Mark Heathcote Poems
Poverty Is A Gift
Father, poverty is a gift
Ask any bird taking a rain bath.
Son, don't make's me laugh
There's nothing but rain
Poverty isn't a gift
There's nothing but pain.
So son fastens your reigns
Ride for them riches today
Don't live by wage's daily
Paid only once monthly
Father poverty is a gift.
Son nothing is ever enough,
Just ask your mum.
Light & Shade
As we step out of these shadows, we see
Sunlit corners, unravelled; as children,
We hide, swirl around like autumn leaves
Passed over during, others autumn, fall time.
Still, as ferns opening, trembling, reflecting
On our innermost excitements, we see
Brought, back into the light new-world-skies
With this light of discovery, our brevity is-
'All practising light & shade is here for life