Paint, write, sing or carve.
Not gold, just dignity
and honours sake.
I work while others sleep,
and dare to care.
For those who cannot see
the evening close.
Nor look the whole
world in the face.
A heritage from my father,
it seems to me.
To you, I am modestly dumb.
But by labour,
has only just begun.
A Wandering Poet 