The beggars feast.
The door to understanding stands ajar
Yet I like thief in night through window peek
Within I see the good from near and far
Their voices speaking wisdom I would seek.
Their words fall on my ear a whisper low
It's cadence lyrical to one as I
A magic symphony in endless flow
I listen and my lips emit a sigh.
I feel as if a beggar at a feast
The banquet table laden with much prose
And though amongst all present I am least
No other congregation would I choose.
Brendan.
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 932 times
Written on 2006-03-03 at 23:59
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