MRS VICTORIA MUSTAPHA AND FRIENDS, I TOO COULD USE A HAND

As pebbles find their way

into my shoes

And errant thoughts will wander

through my head

so too do all these wild appeals

these desperate and sad attempts

to garner trust and wherewithal

find their own way – blind and confused –

into my e-mail in-box.

Dearly esteemed they call me –

(And oh, would that I were!)

They spin afresh their painful tales of woe

of jealous rivals, life’s vicissitudes,

calamities and misery befallen.

Hard times and fiendish relatives,

double-crossing friends, dishonest politicians

have cruelly done them in and claimed their toll.

Rich treasures now lay hidden

just waiting to be claimed.

Nerve and spirit, steadfast Christian strength

are needed to recover them.

The dispossessed can but wait and hope!

Know this, my lost, beseeching friends:

I too am stranded and have strayed

and been betrayed

and long for treasure that is rightfully mine;

I too wait hopefully,

pathetically, for mail to come --

 For checks and acclamation

for praise and compliments

and homage long past-due

-- But I don’t write to you.