Keepsakes, purportedly, are meant to keep
Their essence last, at least, where they are kept
Initially in eyes whose wonder feast
On what the heart and mind will later bless
Abashed, the giftee tries to hold his awe
His speech caught in a cat’s jaw very tight
As to express the most minute of grace
Because to praise will never be enough
Receiving tact can cause perplexity
To one whose means are pauperism’s turf
And wonder is the only viable
Recourse under the sudden mystery
Encouragement can even not declare
Its longing to approximate the heart
That, beating openly its central point,
Reaches out to compatibility
Never underrate the heart that pulses
Below what it reveres deservingly
As similar to virtue for its sense
And sensibility to worthiness
Many moons will orbit earth’s existence
Until the Second Coming hails be born
Another life and world that, mayhap, be
Blessed with an ever blessed company
Therefore, there will be no more need for greed
Because thenceforth all angels congregate
Not in the ground but elsewhere where divine
One Sound and Team and Goal are intertwined.
Amen.
