My hands in empty pockets, stuck out tongue,
I smiled vain at a beggar's outstretched hand,
Hoping, he'd my helplessness understand;
The early sun was mild, guiltless like young.
Knowing my plight, he smiled, gestured at me,
My response was what I had— counter smile,
He seemed to appreciate my misery,
Felt, it was not a rehearsed clever guile,
And tried to put me to ease, ‘oh it's fine,
It's good enough if one wishes to give',
Moved, I held his hand into helpless mine,
His gesture touched me, caused my heart to heave.
And oft when we give, far nigh little give,
Sans giving any, so much we receive!
______________________________________________________
And for long I wondered who was generous; who the beggar was amidst us.
______________________________________________________
Sonnets | 08.01.18 |
A wonderful poem of kindness and compassion that touches the core of the heart. Very touching. Beautifully crafted and well executed write.
To add, if you've like this poem, another The Joy of Giving you may like more
Thank you Rose Marie, it is when giving satisfies more than receiving.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poem that warms the heart? Sharing and giving is a good start! .....
Thank you Tom Allport for your commets