Facets of Friendship, Part 2: “Friends True” [poem]

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true_friends

My definition of True Friends
is those who never will condemn
(with whom I can be fully me)
who never will show false pretence
or judge, rebuke or take offence
at any stuff which falls
sincerely from my mind
my heart, my mouth or pen.
Instead they use their wisdom
sense and gentleness
to share with me all they possess
and me with them all mine.

Such friends will never umbrage take
nor feel indignant when I make a
gauche remark or speak my mind —
their hearts not set on faults to find —
although if finding some they will
just laugh with me (and I with them)
knowing well the finest way for
flaws to be restored is not through
banishment or war but humour
love and gentle leading’s door.

How predisposed so many are
in this self-centred world today
to be offended when you say
some little thing which doesn’t
with their own thoughts ring.
Their prideful bubble popped
and burst they then behave
as if you’d said the worst
words any man could fling
in their direction.

What bliss to meet a kindred soul
who doesn’t feel the need to
play a role of any kind and
never has a sharpened axe
to grind nor chips which fall
from shoulders flexed
and all because they
straightaway felt vexed
by you being confident in
having views which no one
is apparently allowed to hold
in present spineless wishy-washy
weak and rhymeless times in which
(instead of common sense and logic clear)
by social forces deemed correct
all truth is now defined!

How wonderful it is to know
therefore
(it doesn’t matter how bizarre
or sensible you are!)
there’s always one or two
or maybe if you’re lucky
even more
who
(bless their souls)
will never fade
renege
desert your door
claim with you
they’ll ‘wipe the floor’
never with your mind
become annoyed
nor will the weapons
be deployed of
attitude and
thrusting swords
and high-pitched
carping vocal chords.

These rare accepting souls
become your own True Friends
because — with neither base
desire nor fool’s intention
friendship’s path to bend and
shunning sentamentalism’s
vast deceptive trend and
seeing through the chauvinistic
thought “He’s on my team”
and promising to plumb your
depths not just to skim the cream —
they grasp the need for endless
love in faithfulness and peace.
Not a phoney peace which is
a space between two wars
but one which says with tears
of joy “I’d lay my life down on
the line for you forevermore”.

(Coming next: Part 3, “Fairweather Friends“)

© 2011, Alan Morrison

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