Just a small sample of my poetry
The Firefly
I see a light on the trail
for which a path does entail,
a compass for the eyes
and soul, to my surprise.
The source not to be found
because of it moving around.
More lights gather leading the way.
A torch now blazes away.
Lost in the black of day,
the mysterious still lights my way.
The lights disappear slowly.
My eyes open slowly,
to find me at my destination,
Led by my great imagination?
No, the fireflies provide my hope
and guide me till I croak.
To lead and help others,
is the fireflies smother
to the endless fears
to help those in tears.
Lines of Life
O' the inseparable lines
which our life does find;
the ties of friendship and love,
with the bonds of hate and dove.
In these lines we can't separate.
In the mind it does resonate.
At the end we try to find
our place at the end of a line.
Plants and life
Man misunderstands the life around him,
he adjusts his world to suit him,
To cut a tree is to destroy a life.
Plants live with flourishing life,
without violence or hate,
changed without debate,
parish or survive,
live or die,
Grow,
slow,
green,
clean,
without a word
to be heard
a plant to the ground
unnaturally found
by man's wrath,
without an epitaph,
just to grow again
and return again.
Tis the Season
Tis the season for crime and hate,
loss of spirit, working late,
muggings and prosecutions,
murders and persecutions.
Can we truly rejoice
without our spiritual voice?
What is Christmas anymore?
Trees, families, and petits-fours,
or guns, death, poverty and greed.
A warm feeling comes over me.
Is the spirit really back,
or a knife in my back.