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Saturday, 3 February 2018

Without A Home

Here I am on a park bench, peacefully sat,
When who walks on up – a junkie gutter rat;
Look at him very thin, all skin and bone
With a face so thin and without a home.
He looks to me like he’s off his head –
Oh my God is this his night-time bed:
To my home I'd like to take the lead
To give the poor lad a proper feed. 

But I won't, because he'd rob me blind,
That's how he'd repay me for being kind;
So I'll pick myself up and leave him behind,
And hope for a much better next-time.
But beside my bed I'll say a humble prayer
That our glorious Father may lend a care. 

© Andrew Stevenson 17/03/2017
 
A sonnet.
 
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

4 comments:

  1. A most thought provoking poem Andrew, Makes one count their blessings.

    Yvonne.

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    1. Thank you Yvonne, for your kind words. I'm always thankful for what I've got, when so many others in the world have less! Blessings to you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

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  2. So many people who are down and out through homelessness and drug addition are distressing to see. I get your caution, and I hope that your prayer helps!

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    1. Thank you Louise, for your kind sentiments. I have old school friends who are drug addicts, who often find themselves homeless. We can hope for a better day for them with some prayer. Blessings to you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

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