Tuesday, November 4, 2014

lines - to a nephew

by alice marston sternwall

little lad, poor flesh and blood
why are you playing in the mud?
we know not what the morrow brings
please consider higher things

life is long, if not cut short
fate is cruel, at last report
fortune's wheel oft spins unjust
why spend existence in the dust?

look upward, then, into the heights
and let your soul attempt pure flights
soar above the gray faced clods
with their false prophets and dead gods

though lighting blast you from the sky
give it "the old college try"

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