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The Mr-Shortcut Success Zen Wants YOU To Help Yourself - So You Can Help Others

As I sit enjoying porridge
seeking words that rhyme with orange
thinking also of such a match for purple
laughter bubbles in peal and burbles

For we come upon a word
for which there is no rhyme,
silver is the culprit here; it takes up so much time.
The girl struggled so to rhyme with silver
she tried too hard, and you bet it killed her.

So let that be a lesson learned, as the burnished education turns,
for all we see and all we know, for all we dream and never show,
desire drives the blessed of burden, beasting best sported alone.
In the heights of time and glory, in the fields of aborning glory
In the stadia of the fruitful mind, stand tiny steps that alter time.

Each and so apportioned thus, the smile and the giver granted shares and plus,
to each the winded trail appears in tattered shreds of laughter's tears.
All you say is inside out, that the opposite is true there has never been doubt.
On your sleeve it wears too loud, in simple smiles of kindness find,
that all you sought and seek today, thrive inside all along the way.

The more you look to see what's there,
the more you'll receive when you get your share.
The more you pull to own, the more you grab to hold,
the less you count upon your floors,
when and if you have the luck to find that you've grown old.

Of all the water you test or taste, dipping in with tongue or toe,
Home is the one place, in all the world,
where they have to take you back.
So long since I knew what a home really is,
though many have tried so hard,
I lived to see your age, my dear, you can but hope you live to see mine.