WORTH THE FIGHT

 

WORTH THE FIGHT ... Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBark Poet

https://soundcloud.com/maureen-clifford-scribblybark-poetry/worth-the-fight

 

With no skerrick of colour the mounds of crushed paper

are swathed in the gloom and the pressures of time.

An insatiable god seems has sucked all the moisture

from earth. Paper mountains now compound the crime.

In the paddock a new calf is bawling and floundering,

he’s learning to breathe in the damp misty air;

whilst his mother, bone tired keeps an eye on two ravens,

her babe worth fighting for.  Her duty of care.

 

That’s life.  Always full of endings and beginnings,

the cycle rolls downhill – takes your breath away

and you’re kicking the dust and waiting for the silence

but inside you’re screaming ‘I still want to play.’

Listen to the wind, see the shadows of clouds

hiding from summer rains and running through the fire

of a brilliant red sunrise that bathes all in glory.

A vision so splendid of which you don’t tire.

 

And sometimes when sore eyes gaze over the paddocks

that once were a green, lush and high waving sward,

where bluebells danced daintily down in damp hollows

and every day given bought its own award.

It’s easy to think that a man must be crazy

to struggle each day against nature and earth.

A solution is eating your guts just like ground glass.

You stop and remember.  You value her worth.