The eye insisting on the distant views
will miss the pleasures of the near at hand
and often blinded by the rainbow hues
will grasp for bliss but grab the nearer bland.

The foot requiring well worn path to walk
will never know adventures just beyond
and always pacing chases set with chalk
will strain the bound but strengthen habit's bond.

The hand compelling petty showy touch
will lose the chance for joy in daily task
and ever offering too mean or much
will starve the mime but stuff unyielding mask.

Love does what must be done and does no more,
its unchanging choice and chosen chore.

- Robert Stone, 27 March 2011