Bertha

You brought me here

So this is where we might meet 

You brought me cheer

And the fresh showers were a treat

Who strikes a chord 

Then harbours so many fears

Who comes on board

Only to add some more years

What organic, what free spirit 

Delusional, cowardly hypocrisy 

What clandestine, what wordsmith

Paper tiger, dry words legacy 

But the healer time will pass

And the dross will go

Few gardens and some class

May one life, they will flow