laying in my bed, trying to write this poem
Being in a small town, wishing somewhere bigger and brighter was my home.
A place where people don't sleep.
Where the night owls thrive.
A place where everything is always alive.
I look outside my window and see nothing but darkness and an empty street.
Nothing but one street lamp, how does everyone feel complete?
Do people ever get lonely and want something more?
Doesn't anyone always want an open door?
I want to look out my window, and see action.
Taxi's and people and human interaction.
Not some empty street that's a depressing distraction.
I want something more, bright lights galore, a place where sleep doesn't have to be an option anymore.

The man in the moon
has a big conundrum
cause he can't always talk
to his good friend the sun
for he is tucked away,
kept out of sight,
for when the suns out
the moon sees the night.

There once was a time
he was part of the earth,
till a comet collided
for all it was worth.
The earth was surprised
with the immediate shock
and the loss of a massive,
great big piece of rock.

That great piece of rock,
far off it did zoom
from big brother earth,
now the man in the moon.
Every time
the sun comes to play,
the moons bigger brother,
'the earth's,' in the way.

His brother of course,
will pass messages on
but it isn't the same
as a chat with the sun.
But once in a while
the moon he can mix
with his good friend the sun
in a total eclipse.

When part of the earth
he saw the sun once a day
till that comet then crashed
and sent him far away.
But somehow they managed
their friendship to fix
and all with the help
of the total eclipse.

They get to catch up,
but not for too long
for they soon take there places,
go home where they belong.
The total eclipse
is a lifeline that ends
but for a short time it helps
puts together two friends

In the moonlight, high in the Lemon Gum,
perched under the arching ghostly branches
two eyes of jet peer from a snow-white mask.
Tyto Alba, the Barn Owl, with heart shaped
****** disc, edged with ruff of stiff feathers.
Mottled pearl-grey body feathers above
the moth like plumage, purest white beneath
her slim legs are bare on the lower half,
with small feet that end with deadly talons.

Nocturnal, she roosts in the heat of day.
You will hear her screeching in the cold night
hear the scream before you ever see her.
She can see in the half light of humans
night vision even in total darkness
pinpoints her prey by listening to each sound
the desperate, scuttling little creatures make.

She is a well designed killing machine
with hooked beak, powerful feet and sharp claws.
Her flight feathers have softened edges
to make her deadly flight near soundless
She swoops silently down without warning
seizing victims with her claws, biting deep
into their neck arteries, puncturing
their most precious organs for a quick death.

When I feel down and I'm feeling so low that part of me feels I have no place to go. Nothing or no one can cure this blue, but I have  found my solution and here's what I do.

I imagine a parent somewhere far away without what we have and I watch as they pray. Yes I watch as they pray for a child to live and I watch as they cope when there's nothing to give.

I watch as they try to feed someone with nought, I watch as they beg so that food can be bought.
I watch as they cry as they bury a nation, who struggle with drought and then die from starvation.

I watch as children get shot just for wanting that learning and still education is what they are yearning.
I watch as the civilised ruin their land and watch how they leave them when things don't go as planned.

I see all the badness that happens and cry as I remember I wanted to crawl up and die. I wanted to die because I couldn't face, the sorrows that are often thrown up in this place.

I cry for these people that I'll never know. I cry for the bravery that daily they show. I cry when I realise how lucky I be, no hunger, no thirst and no real poverty.

These thoughts are the things that turn my mood 'round, these thoughts are what put my feet back on the ground.
I feel embarrassed of such pettiness and my own little problems I can easily address.

Things can be so bad that sometimes we give up, we struggle and cry into our little cup.
But we need to be weary we need just to face and see the perspective within its true place!