Life is something that marches on whether we want it to or not. Also, things do come to an end. I no longer see Ruth and her family as the congregation has split. I’d imagine that the little girl has grown quite tall.
This poem is a poem of innocence and its inevitable end. Youth is always corrupted. Those who strive to maintain the righteous ideals suffer great persecution. Just turning on the television makes you want to sing the blues.
One day Ruth or Ruthie as I called her will arrive. I wonder if she will remember the events described in this poem. How the tiny child was struggling to sweep the floor with a broom twice her size. I guess one day Ruth will have children herself and perhaps this poem will cross her mind.
Ruth
By John Kaniecki
Ruthie, but properly Ruth
I Love her that is the truth
Captivated by her innocent charm of youth
Broom twice her size
Wide open wonder in her eyes
Sweeping, sweeping dust on the floor
Precious and pure
Sweeping, sweep some more
Sweep until we find a cure
For hatred, evil and war
May those three be no more
Love, Love is the only cure
Of that I’m sure
Ruthie may you never grow old
To witness the terror I behold
To believe the lies I was told
Ruthie may you never grow old
Keep sweeping, sweep the floor
Sweeping, sweep some more
Forever precious, forever pure
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This is a good poem. When I finish the important obligatory writing, I will again write some poetry.
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