give and take

i took the mountain peak;
it gave me elegance and height,
sifting my darkness from my light,
ridding me of the meek.

i took the river's ale;
it gave me salve to quench my thirst.
i wallowed in its aquifers,
no room left for the frail.

i took the sun's warm glow;
it gave me energy and fire,
igniting every base desire.
the poor live on in woe.

i took the open road;
it led me to a secret haunt,
whence i have known no human want.
my footmen bore my load.

i took the simple word;
it gave me lucent poetry.
i preferred, still, my bigotry;
kind verse do not i hoard.

i took my own dear life
into my hands, too tired to live
to take and never seek to give:
wail on, you mournful fife!

© Copyright 2021 March 20
by Clyve A. Bowen♫