“While Uriah writhed with such unobtrusive satisfaction and self-abasement, that I could gladly have pitched him over the banisters.” From David Copperfield by Charles Dickens.
All the days of wonder progress slowly but yield so much
The caring, kissing hours of being with loved ones
The hugging handshaking minutes stretch to your eternity
We try so hard to not try too hard that naturally....
But that’s not natural nor should it be
What is real is the way we feel when inspired or badly hurt
It need not be pleasant to be truthful just strongly felt
Perhaps passionately so
Every fiber of us must know that the next day can bring more joy
There is no use turning our backs to the angels
Those bringers of good tidings and hope
Those purveyors of justice and redemption
From this rich brew must we quaff
All our days can be filled with the goodness of meaning
Empty now the bitter bile of ignorance and intolerance
Let love dive headlong into our meaty thighs
Our mighty cries should be for the best in the rest of us
Caring and giving and understanding should rule the days of wonder
They come now with messages of terminal glory
Such a turn of phrase
Such characters
Dwell among the greatest characters of your life and you shall always be happy
Every minute spent with the quirky the odd the persistently piquant
Eschew the ordinary and you will be rewarded
Grace among us
Peace in you and me and she and he and they and us
Turn on the lights of love
Let them shine brightly and allow their glow to caress your soul
Let spirits charge forth in the days of wonder
No regrets, mate
