What Child
Hear the cry
the cry of your child
the truth so silently seeking
the earth now mourns
that family who’s torn
we having sown, are now reaping
Hear the steps
the flight of the man
the stomp so loud as he’s leaving
children distraught
at what he’d taught
betrayed, now left unbelieving.
See the world
the world so dead
so dead to love and to feeling
its no wonder why
they all seem to die
their plea seems to me so revealing
Shortcuts
Shortcuts in life
shortcuts to strife
shortcuts are nothing more
than the knife
cutting your experience
cutting you short
coming up short
and making you pay
the difference
Funeral
There were many flowers
So many folks
And plenty of family
There was wedding dress
And joyful bliss
Everything so lovely
The day we were wed
Had happy thoughts
Yet cold reality
One day it would end
We’d end up dead
Sure Death life tends to bring
Yet, There were no flowers
Nor many folks
For gathered round to see
No mournful dress
For to address
The day she stopped loving me
Sevillana
The colors of her dress
address,
the passion in her dance
the rhythm, lights
and fiery nights..
the guitar that seemed to prance
Piercing brown eyes
hypnotize,
the lads that happen through
that quick neck fling and
dress flapping
castanets and stomping too.
oh what’s a boy to do
Of What Worth
Of what worth are the eyes
That have chosen their sight,
Regardless of what they see?
And the ears that have heard,
Something different being said,
Not hearing obviously.
Of what worth are the hands
That offer no help?
Of no worth to you and me.
But oh that mine
were as Those that were hung
On the hill of Calvary.
Fall
Leaves of sorrow
Tears of fall’s orange
Approach, oh so gently
The October ground
And kiss it goodbye.
Eternity
There I was.
Here I am.
That was my perception.
This is now what I see
that was my knowledge
now, I know better
eternity