Forebears Poem by Michael Morris
Forebears
In morning's early hours
When books pall
And reverie drifts in,
I think, at times,
Of my forebears.
My parent's parent's parents.
Did they think of me?
Through Time's tunnel
We sanctify their world.
A Golden Age
Of Truth and Honour
And homely pleasures.
Will our grandchildren's grandchildren
So beatify us?
Who knows Michael, but one would like to think so. But times are changing fast, and the young don't hanker after the 'old times', or any of the 'old items of life'. Still hope springs eternal. Nice write. love Ernestine XXX
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 11:22:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This is great Michael. It works as a meditation on today's dominant values (or lack of them) very well. I particularly like the lines My parent's parent's parents/ Did they think of me? It illustrates, well, a forwa\rd thinking, that was taken for granted at one time