by Anton Wills-Eve
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/food-for-the-soul-and-the-stomach/”>Food for the Soul (and the Stomach)</a>
couldn’t face the food so putting up a poem instead: for the soul not the tum.
Hope and Charity were both great fun
But Faith was very much more serious.
I asked her why the frown and furrowed brow,
The look so sad, and deleterious.
Hope chuckled, “Poor Faithy never grins or laughs
Like Charity and I. Just sits and sighs, as though
Every woe of the world was on her shoulders.
But we love her, we could never let her go.”
“Of course not,” Charity added “we’re the helpers.
Hope makes people think everything will be alright,
And I give what is lacking to the needy.
They smile, so do we.” And her smile shone bright.
“So Faith,” I asked again, “What worries you,
You only seem to see the darker side of life?”
To which she answered,” I deal with the despairing,
All I can tell them is how to fight life’s strife.
And trust the souls I try to point to Heaven
Will make it one day if they follow my advice.
For, unlike my sisters, I never see my labourers
Walk smiling towards the gates of paradise.
“No, all I do is offer love and trust, while
Begging God to give me more of what I am.
So I can give myself to doubters and to sinners,
But never knowing if they will die a wolf or lamb.”