Category Archives: Poetry

Waiting for the Bell to Ring

I wait for no man,

And no man waits for me.

But still in time,

The bell will toll,

And the waiting will begin.

 

Now I sit and ponder,

The direction I must go.

Cuz while I wait for no man,

Time is moving on,

Soon the bell we’ll hear.

 

And so an age has gone,

The time is past and done.

The waiting game is over,

And time begins anew,

Waiting for the toll.

 

As I look back I see,

The waiting that was done,

While patiently remembering,

The virtue that it was.

Weed Killer

The seeds have been planted,

They are starting to grow.

What will develop,

What will they bestow

 

Will the seeds become flowers,

That mean love and respect?

Or will they be weeds,

Their job to deflect?

 

Bigotry and avarice,

Can choke out a life.

If allowed to ferment,

There’ll be nothing but strife.

 

Hatred and ignorance,

Will kill kindness and joy.

We must be vigilant,

Our weapons deploy.

 

We have the tools,

To protect what is good.

All that it takes,

Is to defend as we should.

 

Knowledge protects,

And keeps us secure.

All that remains,

Is for us to endure.

 

 

This was inspired by a post by Frank at beachwalkreflections.wordpress.com.  Check him out, you won’t be disappointed.

Honour

A friend made a comment,

She made it to me.

You’re silly you know,

My advice here is free.

 

With joyous abandon,

You live life to the full.

It is said from the heart,

I tell you no bull.

 

With laughter galore,

And a chuckle or two.

You look for the best,

In all around you.

 

Each day with a smile,

You greet every dawn.

With honour a suit,

Each day you put on.

 

Life is a journey,

You share with the best.

Our days may be numbered,

So we’re on a quest.

 

Be kind to each other,

Is the quote for the day.

And live every moment,

As we all join the fray.

A Drink To Health

Writing is a medicine,

A soothing balm at least.

Drawing out the words,

For the tasting of a feast.

 

Bit by bit the flavours stop,

And touch upon the tongue.

Experiences to be savoured,

Their praises to be sung.

 

A drink to health,

A toast to words.

That race across the page,

And flit away like birds.

 

There is no greater gift,

That one can give a man.

A word, a phrase, a sentence,

And the world is in his hand.

Worse Than Death?

Three men died that day they said,

The day they felled the tree.

They said it was an accident.

Because they did not see.

 

Hidden in that musty oak,

Lived a Spirit deep.

Full of kindness and respect,

Through centuries of sleep.

 

But time will pass and greed will grow,

When men desire more,

They do not see the beauty there,

And end up sparking war.

 

Jerked awake with a mighty roar,

Anger flared within.

She felt the saw dig mortally,

And knew she could not win.

 

So, she lashed with all her might,

With sadness and with hate.

All her powers focussed now,

Upon the humans’ fate.

 

Imprisoned in a block of wood,

The three men face forever.

Never learning over time,

That Nature is quite clever.

 

 

 

 

 

This poem was inspired by the attached photograph sent to me by Dan Antion over at nofacilities.com.

 

I Know It

I know what’s being said,

From the readings that I’ve read.

That the life we live is tough,

And the living of it rough.

 

But here’s the thing I’ve learned,

That the life you have you’ve earned.

And the joy you get from living it,

Is the work that you’ve put into it.

 

So raise a glass of cheer,

For the moment you are here.

Cuz you know it won’t be long,

Before this moment here is gone.

A Hook

A simple little hook,

Hangs upon the wall.

There to do its duty,

So, the coats won’t fall.

 

Perhaps it not that simple,

The duty it performs.

Could it be more complicated,

Perhaps a few reforms?

 

What if it’s a symbol,

To show us what we need?

Be support to another,

Could that be our creed?

 

Look upon this simple hook,

As it looks back at you.

Have you done all that you could?

All that you should do?

 

Time upon the earth is short.

But we can leave a mark,

Walk with pride throughout your life,

And be another’s spark.

 

The Building’s Listening

This building has a story

Of ups and downs and love gone wrong

Of broken dreams and silly pranks

A childhood fondly lived.

But broken windows and sagging doors

Don’t hide another truth,

Illicit deeds and crimes concocted

Guns and knives and bloody wounds

Death has lingered here.

But now the future has a stake

Windows broken can be repaired

The doors and walls and ceilings too

And then the fun begins,

The floors and windows once again

Will hear the children laugh.

Pouring rains and winter storms

Are not welcome here.

Come inside and sit a spell

Our tale is still being written

This building’s taking notes.

 

What did I forget?

I know what I remember

It says so on this card

That really is quite easy

The other stuff is hard!

 

There is a moon round Jupiter

Or maybe that’s the sun

You see I can’t remember

I wonder what I’ve done!

 

Years ago I knew the truth

The reasons they put forth

Now the problem surely is

My thinking has gone north!

 

Silly me that phrase is wrong

It really should be south

I hear the stuff that’s spoken

All by word of mouth!

 

Now I wonder what I meant

What I had to say

It all is going sideways

It seems to every day!

 

The things that I remember

Are written on a card

It makes my life so easy

When others find it hard!

 

A Cutting Death

He hides in the crowd,

Afraid for his life.

He curls up in panic,

He knows there’s a knife.

 

He’s yanked to the fore,

With nary thought.

The cutting is quick,

For those that are caught.

 

The action is swift,

The life force is done.

No more to shine,

His days in the sun.

 

Death sweeps away,

The thoughts and the cares.

All that remains,

Are the discarded hairs.

 

I’ll take just a trim,

Off my shaky old head.

So toss them aside,

Those cut hairs are dead.