A steward cares for what he does Not own. And if we'd dare unwind The miracle, perhaps we’d find The sorry tale of who he was. He left that, who knows where, because The Spirit’s wind blew long ago. Why did it come? He does not know. He’s glad, more glad than anything That used to make him smile or sing - Across his life such breath would blow.
Linked to Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge. The prompt word is “wind” to be used as the rhyme in the second or third line of this ten-line poetic form having eight syllables per line and a rhyme pattern of abbaaccddc. I used it as “unwind” in the second line.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 
I like very much the idea of caring for things, rather than owning them, Frank. (K)
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It good to just care for them. Thank you, Kerfe!
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Sails or Anchors
Wind Provides
Spirit For Out Boats
Smiles Frank Cheers
to Liberty of Breath..:)
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Thank you, Fred!
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SMiLes..
Thank You Frank..:)
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So good! 😍 Wonderful message and very flowingly rhymed.
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Thank you, Jenna!
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I like this expression of caring, not owning. 🙏
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I love the term steward – haven’t heard anyone use it for a long time. It would be apt to embrace and resurrect the word?
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It is a new use of the word for me as well. Thank you, Laura!
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i like it
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Thank you!
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