*****
When Dorothy returned the Wizard from
And, upon waking, found herself at home —
A little cabin in a dusty field
Must e’er be furiously worked to yield
What must by employees and family
Consumed in order to aught healthy be —
And looked upon it all with opened eyes,
Much value there to find, to her surprise
As travelers returned so often do
Find value there apparently renew
Needs but lack opportunity to view,
And then to view again, to make them wise! —
There is a part of this equation which
We tend to overlook: The neighbor witch
Whom overcome could not be formerly
And yet of whom small mention now we see —
What is it which hath caused the plot to switch
From threat to hope so harmoniously?
Only, perhaps — just maybe — might it be
That it was not only young Dorothy
Whom by unexpected emergency
Her eyes and loving heart thus opened hath —
That others, too, reconsidered the path
By which through here below had cut their swathe?
Thinking, of her, they might some more have been
Appreciative than they were; have seen
More clearly to them how she precious be
For nothing but her presence privily;
Her lovely charm a living ornament
To grace their lives, and nothing else, were meant
*****
The poet/editor of this website is physically disabled, and lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level. Contributions may be made at:https://www.gofundme.com/are-you-a-patron-of-the-arts
