Monday, April 8, 2013

The Child's Duty by Connor Deeks


A young child going along the pathway,
Came, at the evening after the rainfall
To a chasm shallow, narrow and short.
Through which was flowing a noticed ripple
The young boy crossed in the twilight dim,
The sullen puddle had no fear of him;
But he turned when safe on the other side
And built a mud bridge to span the water.

“Hey friend,” said another young lad with him,
“It’s just a puddle, you’re wasting your time;
You have to go home for dinner tonight;
You never again will pass this way;
You’ve crossed the chasm, this dirty puddle,
Why build this bridge this late near dinner time?”

The builder lifted his young brunette head:
“Hey buckoo, in the path I have come tonight,
A bunch of other kids will come again,
And they will admire my mud bridge built here.
This chasm that is a dirty puddle
Can now be crossed without getting messy;
Good friend, I’m just saving the other kids
From ruining their clothes and their good shoes!”

With a path now laid out for all to cross,
The boy got off his knees covered in mud
And admired between the now two puddles.
He ran past the other boy to dinner
Ready to collect his meal, his work’s reward.
But just before he reached his front door step,
He came across a new water-filled hole.
He dropped to his knees, “dinner can wait,”
And built a mud bridge to span the water.

_________________________________________________________________________________

BY WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE
An old man going a lone highway,
Came, at the evening cold and gray,
To a chasm vast and deep and wide.
Through which was flowing a sullen tide
The old man crossed in the twilight dim,
The sullen stream had no fear for him;
But he turned when safe on the other side
And built a bridge to span the tide.

“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim near,
“You are wasting your strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day,
You never again will pass this way;
You’ve crossed the chasm, deep and wide,
Why build this bridge at evening tide?”

The builder lifted his old gray head;
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followed after me to-day
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm that has been as naught to me
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be;
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him!”

No comments:

Post a Comment