I do hope that everyone on poemhunter reads this poem that I am now going to write. It is not one of my own But it is one I found in my own Poetry Data Base, date 1932 author unknown
What I mean by kind folk are the sort who never say that extra little bit that has the power to sting and flay.The sort who dont go probing to find out bits that we feel are pretty sacred and would rather let them be.
What I mean by kind folk are the sort who give a hand, and then forget about it,
and never hire a band to play their praises loud and strong, and let the neighbours know, just how much they have helped you, and just how much you owe.
What I mean by kind folk are the sort that don't dropp out, when things go badly wrong and there's not much fun about.The sort who give their friendship with both hands full and deep, they're folk that you can reckon on safely your trust to keep.
There aren't too many of them, but you'll meet them here and there.They're mostly
plain and homely, with friendship that will wear.If their slow in coming forward,
dont like any less for they won't tell you what they're worth, they'll leave you to guess.
So what I mean by kind folk are those that are sincere, the sort who speak of absent ones the same as those quite near, the sort who don't go preaching about the good they do.You'll know them when you meet them-But, Oh, They're Mighty
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