For Richard and Nazanin

They will starve, the world watching

His skin bruised by the years of

Loneliness and deprivation

Of his family.

———————–

Her song of a deathly fast 

To cry for freedom and

To be with her loved ones

To walk to the park and

Play on the swings with her 

Beautiful beloved daughter,

To work again and not 

be terrorised by angry men

who want to ignore and bully

and break her spirit.

————————–

Where is the grace?

It is in them as they wait

whittling away the weeks

and their flesh, for their

freedom to be a family

is more that a piece of bread

but a gift to us all

of a sacrificial love

enduring extreme 

agony.