Colin F. Jones

FRIENDS AND STRANGERS

Tis my good fortune and my consequence,
To find I’m loved by folk I do not know,
To whom I owe for all deliverance,
Of this my verse that from naught doth grow
We are not strangers, yet we have not met,
We’ve never touched embraced nor clasped our hands,
Yet there’s no fear no signs of ill regret,
No hollow tones no strings and no demands.
Is it that by this distance we’re made brave,
That what we pledge we need not really keep?
Is love then better felt beyond the wave?
Better dreamed of in our restful sleep?
It seems that what we are we all can know,
If we but let our thoughts just freely flow.