The Message, Decreasing In Stature Poem by James Wakelin

So keen is my eye to discern
and incredible do I look at it
which is indeed a deceit
and a lie
and incredibly soft. Touch it
With new eyes do I look.
At peace? does my mind linger to reach
out and touch it.
So truth inhabits the brave of us and little sheep walk and talk of us and days
Daze. The love of an inconsiderate keeper shines through my song
and developes its own troubled looks of grace and
when I fortell your patience doesn't do me credit
for my singing does want to let you know!