No Mo Gifts none to speak of.

The long trail winding about 

Came to the light at the end

Of the tunnel enter or walk 

About to the return passage

Such exist in histories tree 

Age of enlightening schools

Then brings bells a ringing

Hands in love no gifts given

Still do say I love you most

But the peace ☮️ is brocket 

In all the continents run swim

Or pick up the standard ring

Run or die in the desolation

The poor can never be above

The cut it is the realistic belief 

The prophet revisited “callout

Scrolls were found jars caves

Who’s history mention those

Scribes having leprosy clothes

were thatched reeds for wear

Even so the oldest family book

Of the Jews am aware to exist

Called a family history narration

By myself was recently donated

From a rich publisher to Israel 

Where is the history of the Bible

At and after Adam be that people

Of Israel robed slain in prayers

Over the role of religions practice 

Adaptation the later is different 

The world is very much different

Rather what was written and so

Showing up duty free came across 

With my berth and cap beneath my

Smile with reason retakes reach

Trusting pen 🖊️ I write to you

With tension and war the forefront

Little spinning petals falling down  

sleeping children without sin angels

so does the wind change tears remain 

I wait the call or banishment from my

way and pole to the heights beyond 

the moon it’s waging colors peek seen

As I came will forever remain to life’s

blanket of loves unending promises to

keep the waters as clear.