friendship
It seems so easy now,
To make teafriends with you,
But would the time allow,
I'd stumble on the clue,
That you would soon endow,
The time with peaceful talk,
Knowing the time to sip from when to gawk.
A bed of roses for a garden path,
The way to common thought,
So brewing over our long days,
As these dear petals taught,
The peace in my familiar ways,
The mastery I saught,
Learns patience and longevity,
On rose black tea import.
Vaunted pancakes for a grin,
So full to burst of friendliness,
And lathered in deep pleasantries-
These are silly games and much to make one young.
I love far more to be,
In such good company,
With which the hours grow short,
But of the deepest sort,
In futile ways the toil,
Crowds out such simple loves,
Perhaps this is the soil,
To make a fuller man.
To sit or walk through mire and rubble,
Amounts to blind and pitied trouble,
Unless its sharing pain.
To share a hope is more than double,
Grand flints and sparks to drying stubble,
And all is caught aflame.
The rolling laughs which inculcate the hours,
Such forms of meagre happiness well spent,
Rich memories pervade the every jest and catching up,
Surely old friends age sweeter than wine.
Such shock to learned Greeks,
What wings you've given me,
To find my voice with one depart,
A friendship over spans!