Hope rings real each morning
Your accordion wants to sing
Your baby wants to laugh
The people want to feel
hope rings real each morning
as their eyes open
bellows close and push
a melody that lifts toes
jugglers throw apples high
mothers sing, crowds clap,
coins fall, true words echo
feet want to tap real moments
seen each voice is lean
laugh baby, release your father
hope rings real each morning
June 25, 2018
Burt Beansgood
Poems