"threaten" poems
Unexpectedly, like a thief in the night
Depression will come
Anxiety
Anger
Despair will introduce itself
threaten existence,
testing
Faith,
Assaulting the most precious possessions
Leaving behind bitterness
footprints
in the coldest nights
But none define whose you are
Don’t fight alone.....
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 3:35 AM UTC
I want to make love with you
wildly, savagely, viciously
insatiable need crowds out all thought
except for how you feel to me
it's more than lustful carnal craving
raw passions threaten to explode
we're one, together in that moment
senses burning, overload
hearts pounding, muscles shaking
salty sweat, bodies aching
driven into breathless frenzy
release, that moment stopped in time
once more, to feel that you are mine
May 19, 2012
May 19, 2012 at 4:14 AM UTC
Humans are by nature
unappeasable no matter their behavior.
As a conformist
We threaten outsiders,
Yet long to be our own person.
And individuality is no better,
We long for acceptance of
The group we once called home.
That is the nature of humans,
We viscously treat
those that are not like us.
Its no wonder so few are happy
with such constant inner confliction.
Because the human mind is
a kingdom ruled by two fears,
Fear of the unknown,
And Fear of rejection.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
You say you love me,
Then threaten to leave me.
When does this love
Become unhealthy?
When you tell me that
After this
I can't have any more partners?
As though I had any say in yours.
When you enforce a set of boundaries
While completely disrespecting
Those I ask of you?
When you don't want to hear about it
But you do want to hear about it
And if I don't tell you about it
Then you're just as upset
As if I'd brought it up?
When you call me while I'm working
Yelling because you say I ****** up
And you want to hear me cry
Because then you'll know
That I still care about you?
When you're telling me
How in love you are with me
And how you love when we connect
While telling your other partners
That I'm really just immature
And a horrible person for
Trying to hold your hand?
What about when
You're trying to control
Your partner's and my behavior
By telling them that
They can't hang out with me
Or be my friend anymore
Since it's a choice of solidarity
And it breaks their loyalty to you?
Completely disregarding that
We are best friends too?
Or when you expect me to call into work
Because you aren't satisfied with
The way our discussion ended
And you think that you need to be
Always my main priority
Over even my financial security?
When I'm expected to be present
Whenever you want to talk about us
Or about an issue we're having
But if you don't want to talk about it
Then you'll just turn your phone off?
Or what about when
You boast about how
Open and transparent you are
Then turn around and
Expect me to know what your feeling
And how to fix it
Before we even talk?
And if I don't know
Then I guess I'm just stupid
Which only makes you more angry
And lastly,
What about when
I'm trying to talk to you about the things
That are causing me pain
But you can't even listen to me
Because you just get angry
Because of course I'm just demonizing you?
And even if my feelings are valid
So are yours
And you think I'm wrong
So nothing ever changes
When do I draw the line
And walk away from this "love"
That I honestly
Don't know if I feel anymore?
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC
White folks: pack your bags and go.
Our nut-brown world is quite offended.
Make your shame-faced exit NOW,
And leave your mansions unattended.
Wait—before you pass the doors,
It's time to settle ethnic scores.
No more ragtime Minstrel Show.
Our Moorish Science took it down.
Black lives matter. White, less so—
Now move your pale face out of town . . .
But first, shell out for racial shame
Caucasian losers of the game.
Cultural pride is ours alone:
Kings and Egyptian queens we were.
The glories of our race, well-known
Bedazzle in a darkened blur
(Clear to Africa's descendants—
Puzzling to you white dependents).
Blackness lent your world its light,
Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers.
Scandinavia grew bright
Under our beneficent powers.
Negroes gave your blondes their beauty;
Helped those Norsemen shake their *****
The Seven Wonders of the world:
We built them all. No vain conjecture
Dims our banner, black, unfurled,
Above eternal architecture.
Arts and knowledge gained from us
Are what we threaten to discuss.
We invented math and science
Which you robbed from Timbuktu.
Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance
Caused Old Europe to renew.
All our treasure that you plundered
Testifies: your days are numbered.
Classics of our Greeks you stole:
Philosophy was never yours.
Shame upon your racist soul;
For Bach and Mozart both were Moors.
Misappropriated treasures
call for ruthless hard-line measures.
Latino fate falls next—but, where ?
Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ?
Orientals everywhere:
Choose your side and join the fight.
Blackness rising! Late the hour;
Heed your call to fight the power.
Crackers need to check your race—
Stop rooting for that ****** clown.
Rednecks all up in our face;
Racist throwbacks got us down.
But as your statues bite the dust
Your light goes dark (you know it must).
So move on out, oppressor, thief.
Long have you held our nation back.
In some white galaxy seek relief—
But here the light itself is black.
Stars are racist. So is the sun.
Now let God's great black will be done.
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
I feel strong tonight
A hundred songs burst from me
In colorful bloom
The darkness holds fear no more
I laugh in the face of death
Dreams cannot threaten
I fear no nightly phantom
Day will come with joy
But until then I will sleep
And rest my wearied body.
My mind is awake
Thought after thought captures me
Musings, wonderings,
Daydreams before I slumber;
Life is bright and wonderful.
Yes, I feel strong tonight.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
She was a transgender scared to go around people in her school hoping they wouldn't run away from her cause now she has a different face on
Ever since she started in high school after getting influenced by one which wasn't her fault just her emotions got carried away.
Every time she goes to school she remains lonely like a person that is new to the school.
When she tries to confront her feeling to her friends thinking "how couldn't be my friend I regret ever meeting her" as she run rapidly also thinking" she is going to assault me like the rest"
When she goes to class people start sticking a post-it note behind her back saying "I want you for personal gain"
Teachers has also been thinking of expelling her from school .
Transgender is
life threaten.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
You see the slump in my shoulders
the way I carry myself
the burdens of boulders
that threaten my health.
When you ask what's wrong
I pull up my guard
don't want your pity or sad song
won't tell you why life's hard.
So if you want to know
I'll bottle it inside
wrap up all remains in a black bow
and tell you I'm fine.
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 3:29 PM UTC
The hills step off into whiteness.
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.
The train leaves a line of breath.
O slow
Horse the colour of rust,
Hooves, dolorous bells ----
All morning the
Morning has been blackening,
A flower left out.
My bones hold a stillness, the far
Fields melt my heart.
They threaten
To let me through to a heaven
Starless and fatherless, a dark water.
14.2k
Nothing will come between us
A solid still flows through the gap
Our candle remains lit for eternity
Why would anyone try to blow out the candle?
It isn't an ordinary candle
This candle, anything it can handle
Gigantic cockroaches threaten its flame
How come this flame has not gone out?
Darkness surrounds the object
Nothing can stop it, not even the dust it collects
People puff with all their breath
Our flame will never go out
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
A blackening morning bleeds and deepens
the opening of iron lungs. Paperweight
bones threaten gaiety and the smell of sleep.
Such sadness pours inward, it has chosen
the wrong body as cold folds over the world,
so it feels real, stained frost in vacuous black.
The pure leap of malignity agitates
the interior of a woman's red heart,
melting like embers.
In the sulphur, words dry while water
slides down. Drips and thickens.
Gaping hole exposed- too early for the dawn.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
*hints of auburn drift creating a soft cadence against the autumn wind
almost heard in lieu 'tis felt somehow awakening souls buried long ago
giving birth to falling crimson leaves tinged with maroon and gold
abandoned dusty roads transform under enchanting spells cast by fall
burnt orange pumpkins standing solitary on wooden porches threaten to reveal
hidden secrets held by dusk’s luscious cinnamon seasoned air
once fulgent sunflowers begin to slumber softly beneath the harvest moon
whilst autumn’s trance brushes all it touches with honey colored hues
i stand pensive as an amber leaf gently twirling falls to the ground
bewitched by thine supernatural powers; thine gifted artist’s hand
who with one stroke turns to butter amber all that once was forest green
and imbues my soul with thine exalted essence forever ripening
©2016janetaylor
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 2:15 PM UTC
I am not just a person in
a uniform, I am a Soldier.
Every time I arise, I obey;
Each time she calls, I step up
To defend her freedom,
To restore her home of peace
I arise, I obey, I soldier on.
Into the forest of her terrors
I charge, not without fear for that
which is mine but with love and strength
and faith, I March. Defending the labour
of heroes past, I march; fighting
for dreams of her children bright-
the future she deserves.
I arise, I obey, I soldier on.
In the army I serve Nigeria, my
Country with heart, might and spine.
Though a thousand times I have fallen,
bits and pieces of me, lost to her darkness,
still I obey, knowing it may be my last. I arise,
leaving my family and friends behind.
I obey your call of duty. My service and loyalty
I pack on with my combat gear, that you may live
to see yet another day, to feel yet another ray of
light on your face. I am not just a person in a uniform.
I am your Soldier, the Nigerian Soldier,
Ambushed and slaughtered in 40s, 70s and 100
for lack of resources.
Bless me O Nigeria as I arise and obey
Send me to your enemies with arsenals
and might to match the fire in my eyes.
As opposed to the massacres of me, let
the headlines read of our gallant victory
For my victory is yours over those who
threaten our unity.
I am not just a person in a uniform.
I am your Soldier
Do not let my bravery dissipate to stupidity
For I rise, I obey, I soldier on
still.
©Belema .S. Ekine
©belemascribbles
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 6:51 PM UTC
I have been in the moon
In search of love all noon
Searched through deserts
Even through garden of Eden.
I have Searched beneath the sea
Travelled wide even to overseas
Still could not find love.
I went to Vatican
Even to Mecca
Driven through the romantic sites of Paris
Bath in the Brazilian beaches
Flown across the Atlantic
Pitched my tenth for few days on the Antarctic
Spend some more on the arctic
Still I saw no love.
All I saw was lust
Angels with broken hearts,
Rotten roses,
Withered lilies,
Death faiths and monsters on beautiful faces.
I saw bullets in church offering boxes
Just wedded on number plates of ambulances.
I saw wars in diversity
Pain and mourning crowding all cities
The devil celebrating the dead of peace.
I saw three wise men
Where went love, I asked them
They said love has been nailed on the cross
Buried with trust
They are heading to Galilee
To await his return.
I followed with dreams
I met many returning with smiles of frustration
From where I was going with pregnancy of expectations.
We arrived to the scene
Like a nightmare, I witnessed higher sins
I saw men taking pleasures with men
Some with animals, some women with women.
Gun everybody walking sticks
People feeding on people flesh
With human blood the thirsting ones quench their thirst.
Is this where love is expected to return?
The wise men retorted,
Yes, the saints have been raptured
And his seven years reign has just began.
Then in a flash, I remembered that I have been taught
Taught about this dreadful end
I had also taught kids
Under trees at nights
Just to threaten them to live right.
What I thought was a mare threat or a fallacy
Has been awaken against my fate in reality.
Oh! We are among the leftovers
Left to reprove ourselves or be doomed forever.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
Just when I'm about to have hope
My breakdown are less
I finally learning how to cope
You start to make your way in again
I try hard to pray you away
But you're here before amen
Welcome back old friend
I'm a fool to think the last time
that I saw you was the end
You brought gifts with you
I wanna ask which ones
cause the demons brought some too
Did you send the voices in my head?
I don't like them
They say I'd be better off dead
You didn't sent them right?
You would miss me
Who would you hold at night?
Did you send the bile?
It burns, I start to skip meals
I hide my pain with a smile
Did you cause the sleepless nights ?
Where you mad you weren't there
to hold me from the light?
Did you send the dreams?
That either crunch my soul
or make me scream ?
When I wake up my heart hurts
I hold in my tears
Until they threaten to burst
I shouldn't have left you
I wanted to be happy
I thought it was the right thing to do
I've learn my lesson
I need to stay with you
Let go of my aggression
Don't worry its not too late
Everything can go back to when
You were my soulmate
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 9:38 PM UTC
Yesterday, my psyche took a beating,
Today, I feel like a bruise
That is past its angry, blue-black peak
And throbs with a dull, distracting ache.
Like the aftermath of a storm
When the formerly purple clouds lighten
But still threaten a final, farewell wetting.
That's me, a bruise of many hues
Across a canvas of undetermined mood,
Turbulent, fierce, bleeding still,
Close to the surface, threatening to break.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 10:25 AM UTC
Melancholy,
you spiteful *****
Creeping in,
seeping ever deeper
into my bones.
Nestling in and making
a nice little home for yourself.
You weren't invited in here
And yet you come in, obviously
planning a lengthy stay.
Please just go the **** away.
I can't stand it
when you come around
And hound me from the inside
Pounding on my brain
Controlling my very
train of thought
And surrounding my soul.
You threaten to
swallow me whole
You ravenous *****
And to tell the truth
I'm utterly bored with
this little dance we have.
Just stop, cease this game.
You have no place here.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
She’s the girl who you'd always run back to,
You’re the boy I’d always run back to.
She’s the girl who gave you the chills with her beauty,
You give me the chills with yours.
It’s funny how times change,
People you once loved now become strangers.
But- she’s a parasite,
Always latching onto you and taking what she can.
A symptom of a parasite is disturbed sleep,
She disturbs my sleep.
When I close my eyes I see her eyes,
Staring into yours.
One cure for a parasite is coconut oil,
But no oil or remedy will remove her.
The thought of her makes me aggravated,
Intimidated because really I’m giving her what she wants- you.
I’d like to say everything was fine until she came along,
However, she was always there.
We are smooth like foundation,
Then she comes along, our plates collide and the bumps in the road grow.
Now, I’m not one to gamble,
But I bet you’re talking to her right now.
Sorry I mean, I bet she’s talking to you,
Because we both know she can’t get enough.
I know you feel bad for her and I know you love me,
But why do you feel the need to type to x’s and give her promises I’ll make sure you won’t keep.
See, bless her, she’s having trouble moving on,
Clearly she loved you more than you loved her because you turned a page and started writing a new song.
The girl doesn’t threaten me,
I know we make each other feel new.
The only thing that makes me hurt,
Is how you aren’t letting her get over you.
You compliment, flirt and put kisses,
Just so she stays tame.
But to her you compliment, flirt and put kisses,
Because you clearly want her again.
She’s the girl who you'd always run back to,
You’re the boy I’d always run back to.
She’s the girl who gave you the chills with her beauty,
You give me the chills with yours.
One cure for a parasite is coconut oil,
You know her a lot better than me.
Maybe she’s allergic to coconuts…
Maybe.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 4:27 AM UTC
Manning up in Texas
Geldof overdose
needles at the bed stand
starlet comatose
California dreaming
killer meets demise
hurling in a taxi
puke fee on the rise
Fighting in the Gaza
Jordan's holy war
rebels on a mission
Jihad underscore
The North Korean riddle
pales in grand design
crisis on the border
planes fall from the sky
Cooking on a deadline
tempting tapenades
herbs are in the spotlight
wines that give a nod
Google maps the body
DOW at record highs
Uber comes to market
corn is on the rise
Apple on its earnings
Caterpillar dead
European sanctions
banks have **** the bed
Clippers threaten boycott
Longhorns follow purge
Lynch is out of training camp
James is on the verge
Leinart taking *** shots
coughing up a lung
lions take a licking
fans are throwing dung
Another day in Vegas
Primm from A-Z
rolling out an ankle
a flying SUV
Quiet tempting spaces
made better by design
multi color pea coat
silence fuels the mind
Stabbing in the subway
goat caught in a well
apes are selling tickets
(but leave behind a smell)
Puberty on trial
a man without a head
teachers feel alone
lets take them to the shed!
Jonah's tomb destroyed
wreckage in Mumbai
Sugar Daddy sites
Freedom 85
The immigrant debate
Russia's mounting toll
unions on a mission
heads are gonna roll
Beaches for the nudists
hotels on the cheap
the best generic brands
a list you have to keep!
Planning your estate
questions from the camp
a mansion up for sale
where once they filmed The Champ
Midwives threaten action
aboriginal act
truckers want concessions
that train has left the track
Sharks are found in Fundy
a prized but perilous catch
food we love to hate the most
an irrefutable batch
A family on the brink
I want my kids to fail!
politicians drains all hope
a ban on Israel
Follow out each headline
let the columns be your guide
all these things did happen
the day that Newhouse died
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 10:29 AM UTC
Isn't it astonishing,
The amount of hate
That humans have for
Each other?
If only that same effort
Was used to threaten
The crooked hand holding
Us captive.
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC
My chest aches
As tears threaten the corners of
My eyes
They're dry
Like the wind
She really damaged me
Y'know
I don't like to admit it
I'd rather just hide
The scars
Are red from scathing acid
It's not like you can see them
She didn't hit me
Afterall
We went through a lot
That's what we said
Back then
She told them
She might love
Only me
She never told
She never showed it either
I knew I loved her
More
Or less she admitted it
It feels like a curse
The people I deeply
Love
Others, too or more
Which could be fine with him
If it weren't for
Her
Inability to carry out
Multiple relationships
Or at least to care about what
I felt
Alone and abandoned
Unloved and unworthy
To her I wasn't
Apparently
She loved me more
I don't care that she never told me
Just that
She never showed me
Lasting love or compassion
Never proved that poly works
And then poly came up again
With him
I'm sad about it
The idea makes me feel broken
I'm so sorry
I don't want poly
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 11:43 PM UTC
The gardener*
This is my garden; my apple tree
has over-reached itself. The branches,
weighed down with fruit, threaten to break.
If I had read the signs, thinned out when it was time,
the crop would be less heavy, the fruit less small.
And what there is, is damaged. If it’s not birds
it’s caterpillar, wasp, or earwig.
It will all be rotten soon. I don’t know why I bother.*
The blackbird*
This is my garden; this tree I sat in
and proclaimed my own when it was full of blossom
with war-cry love-call song.
Then mating, nesting, bringing up the brood.
The days were scarcely long enough, but that
was long ago. My children gone,
there’s time now for myself, time for a treat.
My yellow chisel bill breaks in the flesh
of these fine apples. Delicious. This is the life.*
The wasps*
This is our garden – insects do not have time
for individuality. We built the colony, us lads,
chewed wood to make our paper nest, and now
we work to feed the grubs.
“Lads”, that is, using the word loosely – for us
gender is not important; that’s for the queen,
and, as it may be, the ones who service her,
none of our business.
But we need food too,
and if sustenance gives pleasure,
so much the better. When we find a fruit
where blackbird’s chisel bill has broken in,
we eat our way inside, till only skin and core
encase our private eating/drinking den.
So what if it’s fermenting? If we get tiddly,
and roll about, and buzz a drunken hum,
then who’s to care? And if they do, we’ll sting ’em*.
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC
Silly, silly, silly me.
To think I'm free, and that I'll be somebody?
Silly, silly, silly me.
You can't be free, and that's just it,
All you are is 'somebody.'
Some-body.
"Some body."
But that's not true!
Look at Trostky and Lenin,
Michael Myers and Lennon,
The other Lennon.
It's hard to differentiate in name and legacy,
Because both Lennon's were revolutionaries,
Marching around like the freshman from heaven.
But neither believed they were the result of divine intervention in the affairs of man,
Because this convention would threaten their worldview and beckon away their sanity...
In the same way that the Pope or ****** let their divine vanity commit greater blasphemy and bring them future agony.
Now neither Lennon nor Lenin came anywhere close to being men from Galilee,
In fact they were more the men of the galaxy,
Or at least, John was, with his peach fuzz beard and his belief that love is greater than fear.
The other Lenin implemented the New Economic Policy, to starve the proletariat and start his revolution on an already hypocritical trend that would continue quite the same until the very end.
And it proves something, does it not?
Violence sends a message to no one but the instigator,
Changing them to justify, and claim is wasn't misbehavior;
But that's a lie, no idea of mine is worth the death of a human mind,
And to pretend otherwise makes one delude themselves that they aren't an instigator, but an illustrator,
Painting in the blood as if ****** makes an innovator.
And for ****** there is no vindicator,
Violence is an image breaker,
Indulged in by poor imitators who think they're right, and the world is wrong.
Unaware this makes them weak, not strong.
Now John Lennon was the true revolutionary;
Although he succumbed to violence, he veered away from it, even when it was necessary.
He fought the war, and yes, the war did win,
But at least he didn't cover his scars with artificial skin,
Or deny his implicit wrongs as a result of all original sin.
John Lennon used the word 'nigger' to the opposite effect.
He used the word to trigger something bigger and correct,
The wrong that seemed so propagated by the last colonial tide,
Of which the other Lenin defected and took colonialism's side.
John Lennon was Utopian and told us of a better world;
He interjected definition, and caused old thoughts to curl away in fright,
And bite the dust despite their might and past dominion of industrialism,
It was a schism, and it still plagues us to this day.
John Lennon understood we over-complicate way
To
Often.
Silly, silly, silly me.
To think I'm free, and that I'll be somebody?
Silly, silly, silly me.
You can't be free, and that's just it,
All you are is 'somebody.'
Some-body.
"Some body."
"Some body" is something,
And some body can change the world.
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 1:34 PM UTC
i don't want to
have these
bipolar
conversations
where i threaten,
and apologize,
and demand,
and apologize
again
i don't mean to take you
through the ringer
to make you see violence
and mood swings
i don't mean to scare you
when i don't take
my medicine
i don't mean to scare you
when i cry
for hours
i don't mean to scare you
when i scream
and punch things
i never meant to
do those things
like keying your car
i never meant to
drop everything
and go across multiple state lines
with no plans
at all
i never meant to hurt myself
until my arms
were coated in scars
for all of the times
i self-medicated
poked myself with needles
and drank away my pain,
i'm sorry
i shouldn't have taken so many xanax
you're right
i was wrong
again
i never meant for you to be
my caretaker
i hate those words
caretaker
i should be able
to take care
of myself
i'm sorry i am not managing this illness
i am very
very
ill
i'm sorry for the times
i couldn't get out of bed
couldn't eat,
couldn't move
couldn't go to work
i'm sorry for the times
i made tons of post-it notes
filled journals with ideas
bought calendars
and organization tools
i'm sorry for getting your hopes up
i really thought i could do it this time
i'm sorry for my diagnosis
i'm sorry i didn't understand how serious this is
i didn't ask to be bipolar
i didn't ask to be born
i make cases for myself
in my head
but they're all filed as
crazy
i'm sorry i was delusional
paranoid
and afraid
i'm sorry for the drug binges
i'm sorry for melting
fading
burning
and still coming back
alive
these low lows
and high highs
you've been through the ringer
when you're only supposed to be
support, a resource of compassion...
you had to be a caretaker
you didn't ask for this
and neither did i
i sometimes questioned if it was harder on you
to live with someone with bipolar disorder
than it was for me
to live with bipolar disorder
you wanted to save me
but you realized
that i can only save myself
now i'm drowning
and my lifeline is gone
i'm trying to learn to swim
i just hope i do it
before i sink
i'm sorry for all of the ****** poetry
i made you read
i'm sorry
Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 1:40 AM UTC
My dearest Frank, I wish you joy
Of Mary's safety with a Boy,
Whose birth has given little pain
Compared with that of Mary Jane —
May he a growing Blessing prove,
And well deserve his Parents' Love! —
Endow'd with Art's and Nature's Good,
Thy Name possessing with thy Blood,
In him, in all his ways, may we
Another Francis WIlliam see! —
Thy infant days may he inherit,
They warmth, nay insolence of spirit; —
We would not with one foult dispense
To weaken the resemblance.
May he revive thy Nursery sin,
Peeping as daringly within,
His curley Locks but just descried,
With 'Bet, my be not come to bide.' —
Fearless of danger, braving pain,
And threaten'd very oft in vain,
Still may one Terror daunt his Soul,
One needful engine of Controul
Be found in this sublime array,
A neigbouring Donkey's aweful Bray.
So may his equal faults as Child,
Produce Maturity as mild!
His saucy words and fiery ways
In early Childhood's pettish days,
In Manhood, shew his Father's mind
Like him, considerate and Kind;
All Gentleness to those around,
And anger only not to wound.
Then like his Father too, he must,
To his own former struggles just,
Feel his Deserts with honest Glow,
And all his self-improvement know.
A native fault may thus give birth
To the best blessing, conscious Worth.
As for ourselves we're very well;
As unaffected prose will tell.
Cassandra's pen will paint our state,
The many comforts that await
Our Chawton home, how much we find
Already in it, to our mind;
And how convinced, that when complete
It will all other Houses beat
The ever have been made or mended,
With rooms concise, or rooms distended.
You'll find us very snug next year,
Perhaps with Charles and ***** near,
For now it often does delight us
To fancy them just over-right us.
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