FEEDING THE HOMELESS

Behold lo! Peregrine humans art they,
And skies for 'em art bleak and grey,
And the moon ne'er flaunts its treasured beaut.
They have bare soil yet no root,
And roam adrift thru' the open roads.
I can write pages of poems and odes,
But what ode can be as sweet as food;
When cussed a life greets their mortalhood?
When hunger reins those hapless souls,
And make 'em crave for nutrient bowls,
No poetry can then serve 'em bliss,
But seem incursive like a serpent's hiss.

Ay! Hither thou hearst now,
We ow'st glory and thus must vow,
We must feed those hapless ones,
And fete fore'er this crowning chance.
Fetch the bowls of grains to 'em,
Let 'em few moments sans mayhem,
Bide in joy and breathe at ease,
And savour the zephyrs cockling trees,
Serve 'em ne'er for a tinselled name,
Nor for glory or a phoney fame,
We must from our heart and soul,
Serve 'em as our humane goal,
Feed 'em food and thus new smiles,
And aid 'em earn for the remaining miles,

Benevolent souls and healers we need,
Not just a bunch of flamboyant breeds,
Learn to serve those in distress,
With foods of love and a tidy dress,
Goodness shall a day reward,
Skies of joy as the flocking birds,
And thou a day shalt fete each hour,
Dancing gayly beneath sweet showers,
Of petals and scents and elxir drops,
And milk and honey and clinquant crops,
The cosmos shall a day for sure,
Accredit thy benevolence; divine and pure.
© Dipanjan