To catch the semblance of an idea
And let the meat be lost.
A poor supper of thoughts this will make,
But keep trying and the meat will fill in.
Lost are the yesterdays when unscrambled
And all is exposed for what it is.
There is no hiding a sham for long,
You will be taken for the con artist you are.
The glib tongue has many listeners,
Who love to dwell on ones secrets.
Who will be the fool of the hour
After you have departed?
THE WORLD IS FULL OF FOOLS
WHO'VE DONE THINGS THAT AREN'T COOL
BUT FROM THE HOUR OF OUR JEST
WE EMERGE WITH WISDOM ON OUR CHEST
THAT IS...HOPEFULLY, BECAUSE BEING FOOLISH IS ALL A PART OF 'ART'. IF YOU HAVEN'T BEEN THROUGH NOTHING...YOU CAN'T WRITE. THANKS FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
Ron
Love ya!
Jane