The Great Auction

There is a great auction that runs day and night. Where bidders are a ruthless lot thick of hide, a shameless cover for an almost sooting conscience. For this floor is not the realm of patience.

Bang bang the hammer goes and every second a victim falls. To every soul the auctioneer calls. Some to buy and many to sell. For a few pennies a story will tell and for a little change the mighty fall.

Cling cling the bell taps foul to tally up a balance sheet of souls. Clunk clunk goes the carrion fowls. Theirs is a harvest from all directions four. In their wake empty shells crawl and howl.

Clunk clunk the crutches go marching on to that great auction floor. The shrills and cries soon will go when  those few quarters melt with the sunrise glow. In that great chariot see them go.

Bang bang, cling cling, chunk  chunk, ching ching those pennies fall.
A dime here, some pence there and some cents there Before long that hideous hammer falls - "sold!"

On that great train one more soul hauled.
"What good is it if a man gains the whole world, yet forfeit his soul"
From times of old the same story told

Bang bang, clunk clunk, ching ching with eyes red and sore. That great auction floor yearning for more.

Photo cred: https://www.westpac.co.nz

By Simbarashe McNorris Hakata

The Makings of Her

Serenity- it's the assurance my mind has,
the endurance of her companionship and faithfulness. The providence of heaven,
a safe haven for my heart and conscience.
The potency of how her mind speaks to mine.
Knowing truly that she is mine.
Beauty so divine, together grafted to the Vine.
She brings with her sanity and serenity

Madness- it's the uncertainty my mind has,
the craziness of her company and character.
The fulness of joy and  blessing,
sadness she lifts from a burdened soul.
The cogency of how her roar echoes with mine. Congenial souls whipping up a storm.
Strength divine, siamese branches of the Vine.
Fine granules of madness.

Love- it's the undeniable beating of my heart,
the yearning for her faithful friendship.
A burning gift of heaven,
the fiery learning of my heart and soul.
The cadency of her heart beating with mine.
With God to intertwine.
Hues of beauty divine, forever co-heirs in the Vine.
A cord of three in Love.

These are the makings of her,
Today the beginnings of her
serenity, madness and love.u

[Photo cred: unknown please dm for credit]

By Simbarashe McNorris Hakata