THE COST OF A TRIP TO THE MALL

Today I strayed among the ruins... of a dying race
Some of them already gone... left without a trace
Their homes are leveled now... even the walls
Over their fertile fields... never again to be tilled...
are built parking lots... and big shopping malls
Only a few trees left now... here and there
where they used to shade their old John Deere
Their way of life is becoming lost...
Progress... are we counting the cost...
The fields of waving oats and tall corn
were last harvested on a long ago morn...
as were the cotton fields below the hills
ones that once fed all the southern mills
Gone are the farmers from the heart of this land
We have filled up their spaces with concrete and sand
No monument to the fateful people who fed this land...
Much better to leave an old barn... regal... where it does stand
in mute tribute... a remembrance of the farmer's calloused hand

©Copyright November 6, 2003 by Faye Sizemore

COST

To the keeper of comfort and peace
... an offering to you I must make
All my earthly treasures you may take
just to ease my friends' heartache
What is the cost when friends are in pain
Comforting of valued friends is my aim
Empty the vaults of my diamonds and pearls
I would give them to restore peace to their world
Take my laughter... and issue it from their mouth
send my smiles to their lips... hurrying in a swirl
My gentle doves to them... have I sent all south
That they may arrive... to brighten their world
My last penny... I would dig out and to them send
... for no one is penniless when they have a friend

©Copyright November 7, 2003 by Faye Sizemore

Submitted for the November 2003 IWVPA Club Theme Project, Cost