Down the long yarns,
From the first try to the last battle,
Runs the warp of knowledge, self or not,
Threadbare ignorance: a well-worn spot.
Shuttling back and forth, it would seem,
The weft of attitude or self-esteem,
Positive, negative, or meek.
The balance in life that each would seek.

Down the long threads,
From the first sigh to lover’s prattle,
The knotty tangles to be undone,
Of integrity, humour, love and fun.
Try and tie, patterns merge.
Cut and abut, traits emerge.
Comb and batten into position,
Courage, compassion, and ambition.

Down the long lines,
From the first cry to the last rattle,
Enmeshed, as we are, within the weave,
The good power gives us, I believe,
Once or twice, very rare,
In love, anger or despair,
To see in other’s eyes that shine:
The whole wondrous design.

(More homework for the poetry class! )
_________________
Give me golf clubs, fresh air and a beautiful partner, and you can keep the clubs and the fresh air.
(Jack Benny)