I was feeling kinda lonesome so I put the radio on I guarantee it will light up and it will show Welcome Yet even when I had it on, it did not fill my needs I still have in my own heart a wound that freely bleeds
I heard the sparrows chirping, a wren flew near my house I bet that they were going home to nestlings and a spouse They have no central heating, they never have to shop They do not have induction hobs,their children don’t drink pop
The maple tree, the holly, the sycamore, stand tall They have not got a Nobel Prize,vocations nor a Call Can my trees communicate, can they have a chat? They never go on holiday nor wear a straw sun hat
Yet here I sit alone yet calm, listening for his knock How did Anne Boleyn cope, her head on that old block If Henry thought God was displeased for he took his brother’s wife Why would he think that God approved when he took a woman’s life?
It must be bloody agony for people on Death Row Yet here I sat and got annoyed, the pandemic was a blow We do have our computers, our TV and our drinks Should good people suffer ,we feel we are exempt
My arms rise up and open wide, to love this whole wild world I am just a particle, a grain of sand , a word