Splendour

By Ann K George

While I was walking by the streets,

Being upset over the things I never had,

Thinking on all that has already gone bad,

I probed god on why only few were given their treats!

I felt so wretched and loathsome,

As I, came across those born sovereign.

Their hands were plunged in gold and had held their reign.

All I was longing for was to devour a bit from their wholesome!

I wanted a pretty face that could entice anyone towards me.

I wanted to embrace all the rapture of being beautiful.

All I was longing for was to get a bit of everything handful.

And then be in the merry of being what I dreamt to be.

Oh, but in no time did I get a change of mind,

That spun every thought of mine upright.

I realised on that trice that I was never right,

On the exactness of beauty I was resolute to find.

It was a man, who had no roof above his head.

He was unkempt, disabled and was very lean.

All that besieged him was very unclean.

He’d begged for the day and earned his bread.

He got sight of a young lad weeping o’er hunger beside.

He occurred to have missed his diet for so long.

For he was frail, drained and was not so strong.

Hadn’t he any pennies or meals on his side.

The homeless nomad went by the young lad,

And he’d wipe his tears with his pleasing-filthy hands.

He has given the only bread onto the young’s starving hands.

Though, he knew it was the only worth he had.

The young lad’s sorrow has soon left his face,

And a pleasant smile started blooming bright.

The man had felt the pleasure of doing right.

He bid adieu to the lad who thanked him for his grace.

Soon I realised the smile on my face that has come naively.

I walked onto the man to enquire about his doing,

On fathoming that the bread was only that he had for his going.

And his intuition had my thoughts amend so gravely.

“God has given me a place in this world, though so ragged and unclean.

There are many who aren’t given one, who had a deceiving fate.

I am chosen to be here to do good deeds, be it soon or be it late.

I was to relieve the lad from hunger and bring to his face a smile so clean.

The bread was the only making I had for the day.

But the smile on the young’s face was worth a thousand gold.

I am the wealthiest of all, for the smile of the lad I hold.

And it is unerring that with this treasure, sooner I’ll find my way.”

The words of the man had moved my world beneath.

I felt restrained for weeping over the riches I never had.

Deeming a pretty face to be the lot now makes me sad.

For now I know that splendour comes from the minds underneath.

By Ann K George