Greedy clamoring for gold in the hills
Has spoiled another day,
Sun and moon do little warm me
Treachery dons the market place.
Given the choice between salt and friend,
Too oft I have felt life's sting
Noble companions have left my side
To bask in selfish gleam.
Let me but take my loaf of bread
To a clean and gentle brook,
Alas my eyes are opened
Tis gold, not love, the world doth want.
Original Poem/Image Pixabay
Melissa