Cross my heart, I remember
When common sense was delivered to the door
Each morning by horse and cart,
Equally to the rich and poor.
What a bold start it was
To find it sitting there on the porch,
All yours, fresh as a daisy
And as good as gold.
Completely undebated was common sense;
Unprocessed, you might say,
Full of organisms and rough seeds.
It’s what the body needs.
You could feel it do you good.
How could
Such a useful thing,
So plentiful back then
Yet so revered,
Become so lost and rare
And so weird?
You have to go through so much these days,
Crawl across a field of broken bottles,
Half a life of suffering and sin,
Be done over and done in
Before you find it once again.
Perhaps one morning
On the porch
And in the sun of early spring,
Lo and behold,
On the step, thank Christ,
A little common sense is there again.
Common Sense by Michael Leunig
Cross my heart, I remember
When common sense was delivered to the door
Each morning by horse and cart,
Equally to the rich and poor.
What a bold start it was
To find it sitting there on the porch,
All yours, fresh as a daisy
And as good as gold.
Completely undebated was common sense;
Unprocessed, you might say,
Full of organisms and rough seeds.
It’s what the body needs.
You could feel it do you good.
How could
Such a useful thing,
So plentiful back then
Yet so revered,
Become so lost and rare
And so weird?
You have to go through so much these days,
Crawl across a field of broken bottles,
Half a life of suffering and sin,
Be done over and done in
Before you find it once again.
Perhaps one morning
On the porch
And in the sun of early spring,
Lo and behold,
On the step, thank Christ,
A little common sense is there again.
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