Alone! In a room full of strangers
Chatting amiably around, not to
Me. Cloaked with Invisibility,
Stealth Secret Agent Double-oh-seven;
But currently unassigned, mission less,
Meaningless! Really? A non-entity,
Expendable, recyclable, NADA?
Social ghost haunting your periphery.
We are shallow, failing to see the worth
Of the eternal souls who share limelight
In our transient moments on life’s stage.
Each one a Masterpiece before Father God,
Who IS so rapturously enthralled.
To Him, precious sparkling crowning jewels!
David Palmer makes his home in Renton, Washington, just outside Seattle. As a former minister, and avid reader, he is a lover of poetry and has written 88 sonnets, mostly for the delight of his friends. He currently works for Bloodworks Northwest in Bellevue, Washington, a blood center supplying whole blood, platelets and plasma for transfusion to patients in hospitals in Alaska, Washington, and Oregon.