O, but that the Master Poet would grant this rhyming couplet.
That we could bind the wounds of this broken heart
Wherein the beat of freedom and equality grows weak,
Enabling the meek, indeed to inherit what your love bestows
To all your children squabbling, silent, frightened, or benumbed
By prospect daunting or emboldened, lost among the ruin.
Children are resilient. And may we laugh again and play,
And build those castles, sand or stone, that time will surely wash away.
......
O, but that the Master Poet would grant this rhyming couplet.
That we could bind the wounds of this broken heart
Wherein the beat of freedom and equality grows weak,
Enabling the meek, indeed to inherit what your love bestows
To all your children squabbling, silent, frightened, or benumbed
By prospect daunting or emboldened, lost among the ruin.
Children are resilient. And may we laugh again and play,
And build those castles, sand or stone, that time will surely wash away.
......