a poem by ROY Douglas KNEALE, UK

If you value life – on this mortal coil,
And if you hope for Blessings to abound,
In a sense, so do plants that grace the soil,
As if they pay due homage from the ground.
Like the flowers of spring, we are born from seed,
And grateful we should be for the sowing;
The finest blossom and the humblest weed,
From ‘parents’ got their chance to be growing.

But, unlike plants, we also have a mind,
With which to offer up a thankful prayer;
So if to either parent we’re unkind,
We ‘fall from grace’, and lose all savoir faire.
Even if a parent’s skills are zero,
And even if a parent lets us down;
He who gave us life we ought deem “hero”,
And she who bore us be thought worth renown.

Though parent be estranged from their own child
(Be through divorce, or for whatever cause)
Let kith and kin, with joy, be reconciled;
There are no winners in familial wars.
‘The Good Book’ says – No mortal is ALL good:
Parent, Child; Let neither curse the other.
To value your life – in the way you should –
“Honour (BOTH) your father and your mother.”
R.D.K. November 2012.
[As one to whom estrangement is personally a constant bane, I offer this on behalf of all who suffer in like fashion.]

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