If all the knives in the house were bread knives
with what would we butter our toast.
If all the knives in the house were matches
with what would we cut out vegetables.
If all the knives were the same
what a grace-less act it would be enjoy a simple meal
and a horrendous ordeal to chop the wood with a table knife.
If you and I were the same,
of what use is the day and night?
All for nought would be the
strings of silence played by the mid-night breeze.
All for nought the
chorus of birds at the command of a rising sun.
A hearty welcome to all new followers, viewers and faithful virtual friends, you gladden my heart. On this quest were many cry ‘abandon this infatuation’ I sincerely appreciate all those who haven’t dissented.