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Saturday, January 7, 2012

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King Making

I used to dream about being an Ambassador,
So that one day, like Madeline Albright, I could look at all of my pins,
And think of all the miles, and all the smiles, and all the earnest words,
And regard them as the very finest of jewels, in my mind and memory, like the
Lives of the people whose gentle clasps, affixed like hands over my heart,
Spurred me on to a new day.

Alas, mine was a humbler task, earnest though I was, in making those
Greater Moments more flawless, and void of concern or alarm.
Each brief hour of peacefilled word was a ribbon of Comfort in the
Cabinet of races won, and I, blowing hard, ignoring the
Performance opportunities for the
Greatest Stars, enjoyed my secret treasures,
Though the rest days of rollicking notes, when the work week was done
Presented a different Face - a more mischievious one -
Singing our troubled thoughts away.

And yet, those Dear Faces, to me,
are still the Crown for
Every King I may have