Bless

A blessing isn't just a word said low
When someone sneezes, "Bless you!" though
It's in the baker's spare warm scone
Saved for you when you're alone.

It's "Ta, love!" from the busker cold
Who shares his last sweet, bright and gold.
It's neighbour's wave across the fence
When you've had trouble, dense and intense.

A cuppa made without being asked
When worries feel like heavy baskets.
The quiet help, the knowing glance
That turns a weary circumstance.

So don't just wait for grace to fall
Like rain upon the garden wall.
Be the small kindness, freely given—
That's how true blessings start living.
Pass it on: let warmth increase,
Until the world finds quiet peace.
(And bless you, too—go on, then, please!)