No time to write, yet write I will... could you spear a thought?

Hmmm, there's a lot of imagery bombarding me like so many hummingbird wings at how ever many miles per hour they go. However, the last four lines are absolutely brilliant. "The sword in hand/will only play/for them with treasure/called charity." Charity is so often our sword, either cutting the heart, or cutting through the fabric of those who do not want it. Destructive and constructive...things to ponder.