The best of us

The best of us

Know when to stay quiet

To say nowt

To say they don’t know

When sometimes they do

Holding forth

Is not a pretty sight

If you filibuster

Your way through

It is better to keep shtum

Than to ramble.

Do lies slip off your tongue

Dripping with malice

Tumbling out

With all the grace

Of a maggot

In a dead dog’s eye.

Nobody likes a stoolie

Why is that a fact

I don’t know, but it is.

Write a letter of contrition

Attach it to a pigeon

It will find its own way home

This time next year

We will be history.

In reality

Too few things

Are incontrovertible

Why do streams wander?

Are the mountains

Really the bodies

Of dead gods

Do they just sleep

Waiting to be woken

Do they contain a multitude,

An army of bones

Caves filled with gold

Mystical beasts

Ravenous for blood.

Be risk-averse

Let sleeping dragons lie

Who can know

How hungry they may be.

Is it likely?

I suspect not

But it is the makings of a story

The stuff of legend

Built on fear.

Perhaps it makes sense

To be afraid

There is so much

Yet to learn

And more

To never know.