Awash with mesmerising coloured lights,
Resounding with enduring festive song,
The malls of mammon, teeming with delights,
Seductive to the pleasure-seeking throng;
From babe in arms to grey-haired doddering dad,
With little or with surfeit wherewithal,
Whether in velvet or in sackcloth clad,
Perennial mystery holds all in thrall;
Yet few in faith hold feast in close embrace,
While most succumb to man’s insidious greed;
Would that good sense such madness could replace,
Then Jubilate Deum might succeed.
Prodigal grace to creatures all extends,
Pernicious recompense for none commends.
Posted in Advent, Christmas, Mystery, Photography, Poetry, Reflections, Religion, Sonnets, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Values
Tagged coloured lights, crowds, faith, festival, grace, greed, humanity, life, mammon, pleasure, surfeit, truth
Not for the lack of patent wherewithal,
Nor for the want of vocal calls for care,
Indifferent man continues to appal,
Persisting to espouse the lion’s share;
No matter that a surfeit to the soul
Encumbers, even at the point of death,
Or sharing with the needy would console,
Cupidity enslaves to final breath;
Rapacious tentacles embrace the heart,
Denuding it of vestiges of life;
Compassionless awaiting to depart,
Perchance the destiny to be sans strife.
Not for the sake of human decency,
But for yourself aspire to equity!
Posted in Photography, Poetry, Sonnets, Uncategorized, Values
Tagged care, compassion, death, equality, feather, greed, hope, life, need, peace, surfeit