Liechtenstein
Building blocks of varied hue,
And shaped so oddly matched,
Are oftentimes presented
For our hands at work, attached,
To make a home to keep us safe,
A place to be ourselves,
But in the Winter months it rains,
And challenges all our nerves.
How to keep this house a home,
Changeless in the wind,
How to keep in touch with fibres,
Bleak and splintered, pinned,
Alas, this frame is of illusion,
And though it echoes form,
The true interpretation stands within,
Bold of ripe reform.
The author is not affiliated with any political or religious organisation. Where the work makes reference to God, Lord, Christ or Saviour, for example, substitution for the reader’s preferred spiritual nomenclature is welcomed and encouraged.