If I examined the walls
Of ranch house or farm stalls
Would I have noticed what,
Was and was not.
No! Not at all.
It was only a call,
For shoring up,
Family and love’s cup.
The youth and that stage,
Cared not for material gage,
If the tapestry was rich,
Or maybe a switch.
To poverty’s entrapment,
Where cold and deprive went,
Matters not to a child’s view,
For love they only sue.
Hold to the wealth’s mirth
Of parent’s wide girth,
Where all is predictable worth
Of fireside and hearth.
But Ura May lived alone in her mind
None was there for her to find
How could she ask about wisdom of days,
Modern-world, new ideals, far away from elders ways.
The standards of this new society’s grasp,
For her, was only a sip from leather-covered-flask.
