Tears are Not Intended {By Don Beckman}

One morning not so long ago
When nothing turned out right,
A little bird paused on the sill
To rest from it’s long flight.
‘Oh little bird,’ I said, ‘I’m sad;
Although we’re deep in Spring,
The bluebells planted at my door
just simply will not ring.’
And then I knew how senseless
It was to fume and fret;
That I didn’t count my blessings
Was a cause for real regret.
For with the beauty all about,
Despite what day might bring,
I knew the birdlet’s song was true;
‘Why cry when you can sing?’

Author: marvaseaton

Marva Seaton is a Mom, Author, Blogger, and Poet. She is passionate about issues concerning woman and tries to highlight stories of those suffering abuse. She strongly believes in fairness, equality, and the empowerment of women. View all posts by marvaseaton