Homework w/e 21.9.15 - Sanctuary
Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2015 3:59 pm
Sanctuary … Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBark Poet
He’d walked in other’s shoes before – and he recalled it well,
to escape racial tyranny, to flee from war and hell
and now, here on a different shore, and in a different clime
he prayed that God would grant him peace, that God would give him time.
He stood there in the bargain clothes that helpers had supplied
white salt runnels dried on his cheeks from happy tears he’d cried.
He knew the road ahead would still be tough, not worry free
but to this land he gave his heart and soul. His home ‘twould be.
He’d spent long months with others in the camps, and that was hard
but still better than living with a war that yard by yard
destroyed , defiled his homeland, where he’d lost the one thing precious
that he had, his wife and unborn child – killed in street fighting vicious.
This land had opportunity, shops, factories and homes
and whilst the wharves were deep in trash – its treasures would atone
to offer help and dignity and once more bring him peace
and he in time would find again sweet sleep – nightmares surcease.
He’d repay to this country the huge debt. His gratitude
would recompense their Government for shelter, clothing , food
and given half a chance he’d proudly call this country home
until wrapped in her sweet embrace he rests in rich red loam.
He’d walked in other’s shoes before – and he recalled it well,
to escape racial tyranny, to flee from war and hell
and now, here on a different shore, and in a different clime
he prayed that God would grant him peace, that God would give him time.
He stood there in the bargain clothes that helpers had supplied
white salt runnels dried on his cheeks from happy tears he’d cried.
He knew the road ahead would still be tough, not worry free
but to this land he gave his heart and soul. His home ‘twould be.
He’d spent long months with others in the camps, and that was hard
but still better than living with a war that yard by yard
destroyed , defiled his homeland, where he’d lost the one thing precious
that he had, his wife and unborn child – killed in street fighting vicious.
This land had opportunity, shops, factories and homes
and whilst the wharves were deep in trash – its treasures would atone
to offer help and dignity and once more bring him peace
and he in time would find again sweet sleep – nightmares surcease.
He’d repay to this country the huge debt. His gratitude
would recompense their Government for shelter, clothing , food
and given half a chance he’d proudly call this country home
until wrapped in her sweet embrace he rests in rich red loam.
Seems the picture came through - I had big doubts about this one - Thank you lovely ladies for reading and commenting.
