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If I could take my time again
A different thing I'd do;
I'd take the comfort, leave the pain,
Take the sunshine, leave the rain,
If only I could start anew.

If I could be another's son
A different path I'd choose;
I'd walk along, I wouldn't run,
I'd leave the sorrow, take the fun,
If only I could re-infuse.

If I could start another hour
A different way I'd go;
I'd take the sweetness, leave the sour,
Take the jolly, leave the dour,
If only I could make it so.

If I could live another day
I'd tread a different lane;
I'd leave the turmoil, take the calm,
Leave the coarseness, take the charm,
If I could take my time again...
I'd take the sunshine, leave the rain.

Satan visits often,
He arrives at dead of night;
He counsels me
Where I should be,
He exhorts with all his might.

Satan visits often,
I find him in the dark;
Tine figured head,
Eyes fiery red,
A prong to make his mark.

Satan visits often,
Ghostly in his cloak;
My troth to break,
My soul to take,
My very faith to choke.

Satan visits often,
Expounding where I'm wrong;
He effects his stay
Till break of day,
He attests where I belong.

Satan visits often,
Bearing bread and wine;
I may not know
Which way I'll go...
Mayhaps with him I'll dine.

Alan S Jeeves Jun 11
As lightning bright's the meadow
And thunder dulls the air;
I feel it still,
A stormy chill,
An aura everywhere.

I wander o'er the pathway
And paddle through the rain;
My bootheels quosh
The squelchy wash
Along the puddled lane.

My face refreshed with teardrops
The clouds have wept from high;
They gently wet
My face and yet
They barely seem to cry.

I dance on midst the moisture
The hail sends down to earth;
I sense the beat
Beneath my feet
And sing for all I'm worth.

But when the fulgid sunlight
Warms the land once more;
I'm home to you
As I step through
A rainbow's archwayed door.

I wept for trees and forests,
We laid them all to waste.
Will children have no air to breath,
No atmosphere to taste?

I wept for mighty oceans
We trashed them to the brim.
Will children of the life therein
Protract no place to swim?

I wept for northern icelands,
A thawing polar crown.
Will children of the Inuit
Become condemned to drown?

I wept for fields and meadows,
Poisoned long ago.
Will children of the landscape
Reap no seeds to sow?

I wept for man's futurity
Ere I took my sleep.
Will children of the morrow
Beget no tears to weep?

Alan S Jeeves May 21
I gazed down from the water's side
To see a silver gleam
And standing staring looked and tried
To see beyond the stream.
The clearest water sparkling, pure,
Below me stilled and calm;
Its cooling, soothing, fooling lure,
Seductive in its charm.

I saw a young man peering on
With eyes that conquered all.
But in a moment he was gone ~
Uncanny, I recall.
Beneath the surface he was there,
A soul of twenty four,
Then vanished in the swell somewhere
And left me by the shore.

Again he came when it was staid
And braved another glance.
Had I his acquaintance made
Long by-go, by chance?
He spake and told me in a rhyme
He yearned that he was me;
Though musing swept me back in time ~
I longed that I was he.

Alan S Jeeves May 11
A tiny tawny torso
With tiny tawny eyes.
In tiny tawny cautious flows
The tiny tawny flies.

A tiny tawny heartbeat
With tiny tawny pace;
A tiny tawny look upon
A tiny tawny face.

Tiny tawny feathers
Of tiny tawny brown.
Tiny tawny eyebrows make
A tiny tawny frown.

A tiny tawny tinted breast
So tiny tawny cute.
A tiny tawny voice to call
A tiny tawny hoot

Two tiny tawny wingtips
For tiny tawny flight
The tiny tender tawny owl
Takes off into the night.

Oh to be maying this cool sun-snapped day,
Temperately faultless and fair.
Oh to be roaming, this rare day in May ~
Oh how I wish you were there.

Oh to be with you as spring bids its bye
And as summer is saluted, yet still...
Oh you were with me as often I try
To think of you out on the hill.

I remember you with me, faithful and true,
Oh you, how loyal and sound;
Alert when I whistled and ever I knew
Oh you, a prince of a hound.

Oh to be maying as memories awaken ~
But do I feel rain in the sky?
Not so, this May day, I must be mistaken;
Oh 'tis the tear in my eye.

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