A People, Unintimidating Poem by james watkin

Blubber not, self pitying
'It is a lonesome thing
When lacks, this life for some little,
Simple understanding'.

Shy-spooked one, nerve-shook for fears
Open your eyes, ears.
Heart, moreover! That request, hid
Deep in these room-dark years

For the better, gentler sort
Daily, in friends' support
Beyond snail's tap-tapping, but waits
Its blind's hand. As it ought.

There at your casement alight
For them, what too invite
To sun in their skies, butterfly-winged.
Bird-warbled, with delight.