I waded cautiously,  out into,  the open sea...

laughing,  as the waters covered me...

over my **** fool head!

Shall I tell you how it felt
when you left without a word?

It was like...
a door slammed in my face.

I await tomorrow's world,
the promises and hope;
that come to all believers,
as with today, we cope.

I await the sunshine,
that never fades away;
that dissipates the clouds,
that obscures our way.

The day when troubles end,
when all's replaced with joy;
that I knew in innocence,
when I was but a boy.

I await tomorrow's world,
when the morning star will come;
and our restless adversary,
will completely be undone.

I await with prayers and song,
to usher in that day;
when the world will be at peace,
when they will know the Way.

Wishing you were here again,
to shorten winter's night;
to curl up to my backside,
until the morning's light.

Wishing you were here again,
so my sleep would be just fine;
and we could share together,
the dregs of last night's wine.

Wishing you were close once more,
so I could touch your face;
hold you close within my arms,
in one great big embrace.

Wishing you were here, with me,
to put my heart together;
to ease my tortured thoughts,
to tell you you're my treasure.

Wishing you were here again,
with days that would not end;
to rectify my wounded soul,
and my broken heart, to mend.

Facing east at ten o'clock -
the sun feels warm upon my face -
the book is good and readable -
I liked its leisure pace.

The breeze was just enough -
I raised the collar of my shirt -
a reminder it was January -
the wind still cold and curt.

The silence of mid-morning -
was a balm that soothed my mind -
endless, cloudless, azure skies -
of that rare and precious kind.

No traffic noise, no squawking birds -
only quiet, healing, rest -
the little things of pleasure -
are the things that I love best.

Just an  hour of winter's sun -
then, I leave where I have been -
and stretch the aging body -
now content - to go back in.

Can we part and still be friends?
or is this where, our friendship ends?
is love a part of things now past?
didn't we think that it would last?

Love was meant to be forever,
not a memory of never;
we tried, but then we failed,
and without us, our ship sailed.

There was no life raft in our boat,
no solid thing on which to float;
fallen from the dreaded plank,
we floundered and we sank.

There's no revival in the end,
there's emptiness around each bend;
once we were a perfect pair,
now we really do not care.

We're just another bad statistic,
in a world that's gone ballistic;
another chapter turned to dust,
betrayal of an honored trust.

On a perfect winter's day,
I passed the time away;
walking in the hills,
so close to home;
thanking God I had the health
to do so,
the sweet ability to roam.
To marvel at the scene,
that reflected nature's screen;
that sent pleasure to my mind,
of the meditative kind;
that of wonders often seen.

In the places seldom viewed,
in the caverns of the deep;
where the pictures still remain,
where the images still leap.


I have walked the trails of sadness,
where no happiness is found;
where depression lies within,
of the tragedies around.
But the light is always shining,
although hidden by a cloud;
the sunshine will break forth,
from the grey, low-hanging shroud.


Light will always conquer darkness,
it's the voice of God that's speaking;
and the soul is filled with glory,
soon after all the weeping.

Do you think that you can  woo me,
with tender words from tender lips?
do you think your beauty moves me,
like the face that launched a 1,000 ships?

Isn't it I, that should be wooing you?
the man that gets just what he wants;
if for a fact,  I truly wanted you...
must you, your loveliness then flaunt?

I must admit, that you are beautiful,
and with your look, I melt like butter;
knocked silly by your charm and grace,
my throat goes dry; words I cannot utter.

Do you think I can be captured by a smile,
by looks of love that radiate from you?
I suppose that by it, I might then fall,
wondering if your love is really true.

Please, let me be the one to do the wooing,
let me run after you, like any mortal man;
are you still thinking you can woo me?
heaven knows... **** well...you can!

I know that love can lose its luster,
by things we do not do;
by words we never say,
or those we speak, are few.

I know that hope can fall apart,
by the obstacles we face;
by roadblocks in our path,
by life's insistent pace.

And I know that dreams can die,
by pressure to keep going;
when we lose our vision,
to conclusions of not knowing.

The hectic race is to survive,
and we must overcome;
in love and hope and dreams,
that are placed aside by some.

We must be monarchs of our fate,
and rulers of our soul;
for the body, mind and spirit,
to keep our being whole.

The winter's night is long and dark,
no longer can I sleep;
the new year's day comes silently,
quiet, cold and deep.

Once I watched it, as a youth,
with crowds of noisy voice;
partied, loved and laughed,
as if I had no choice.

But the parties now are over,
long gone, the boisterous crowd;
the love and laughter, subtle,
soft and gentle, never loud.

I sleep through fireworks,
let the young go on parade;
seek out the morning sun,
much more so than the shade.

The warmth is on my back,
frost melts upon the stalk;
my breath wafts in the air,
on my early morning's walk.

Snow, pure and ****** white,
greeted me at dawn,
kissed me in the night.
took my breath away,
as I walked in frigid weather,
but left without a trace,
at noon that day.
Snow was diamonds glittering,
in the sun's bright glare,
putting cold in second place,
with the beauty I did share.
Snow was God's white blanket,
sheltering the earth,
covering the treetops,
with its silent mirth.
Snow was winter's message,
of the approaching season;
of the turning of the new year,
for no specific reason,
other than the shifting,
of the planets quiet course,
with the guidance of God's hand,
as its origin and source.

When the first light of day,
is but a glow on distant peaks;
I walk my friend, my canine,
discoveries of day we seek.

The crescent moon above is lovely,
Venus glows with its bright light;
high above and further out,
Jupiter's a startling sight.

The cold is nipping at my nose,
the wind is quiet at this time;
I pack away my thoughts with pleasure,
for the making of a rhyme.

Dawn comes up and throws its rays,
canceling the darkened skies;
I see the Dipper fade from sight,
imagine stars that weep and cry.

Angels sing for this sweet morning,
heaven's choir praise all creation;
jubilant for God's great Son,
who watches over every nation.

This will be my final poem to you,
to exit, the door that I walked though;
too long, for nothing, I did stay,
far ago, the words I did not say.

You said I was the love of your life,
and consented to become my wife;
but way too far apart we grew,
and out the window, our love flew.

You stopped loving me, don't know why,
I never felt the change, or heard you cry;
it was like a bolt out of the blue,
I was clueless, but you always knew.

Time doesn't matter when love dies,
sometimes, no long and anguished cries;
just a silence that slithers in one day,
just a silence, that does not go away.

Then suddenly the union splits in two,
from troubled times that did accrue;
it's with regret, I voice we seldom tried,
the day you told me that your love died.

They'll shoot me in the morning,
for leaving my **** post;
by the time you get this letter,
I'll probably be a ghost.
Didn't want this ******* war,
stabbed the dummy and yelled "****!";
not my idea of passing time,
not my usual kind of thrill.
I'm a pacifist at heart,
learned my lessons the hard way;
now my Uncle Sam,
requires me to stay.
But I said, no, not going to,
I hopped he Greyhound Bus;
said good riddance to it all,
now, what's the ******* fuss?
A simple parting of the ways,
is all that I desire;
I got burned by Army brats,
got too close to the **** fire.
They'll shoot me in the morning,
with a blindfold... or without;
this poem's my legacy,
the last and final shout!

Remember when the earth was flat,
and Santa Claus was real?
when you were young and innocent,
before you learned to steal?

When ghouls walked down the street,
one cold October night,
and bats were known to **** your blood,
in one big, scary bite?

When the fairy took your tooth,
left a coin right in your bed;
underneath your pillow,
right beside your head?

When you found bright colored eggs,
hidden by the Easter Bunny;
who really was your Uncle Ben,
you thought that pretty funny.

They warped your little mind,
by imaginary things;
today you know reality,
and what tomorrow brings.

No Santa Claus, no ghouls,
no bloodsucking bats, no bunny;
life's a struggle to survive,
and that's not very funny.

In the valley of the sun,
I seek the shrinking shade;
trying to evade the brunt,
of the brutal heat of day.

A palm tree offers little,
their trunks are much too thin;
their fronds are separated,
it lets the sun right in.

Only at an inside mall,
can I find such relief;
too much exposure to old Sol.
can cause a heap of grief.

I don't want no cancer of the skin,
so I slap on the sunscreen thickly;
to remain a healthy human,
I don't like being sickly.

It's too **** hot to go outside,
the heat and sun, of course;
I'm thinking very seriously,
to pack and move...up north.

You'd think my tears would dry up -
once that they are shed;
but like a fountain they continue,
after all is done and said.
You'd think that I'd get over-
all the things that came about;
the shouting and the silence,
the instances of doubt.
You'd think I'd just forget-
the hauntings of the past;
forget the bitterness,
sure it wouldn't last.
But love is kind and gentle-
not arrogant and cruel;
and did you really think
that you could play me for a fool?
You'd think that now that
time has flown-
that I'd come back to you;
but what you didn't realize,
was the hell you put me through.

You were mine, just for awhile,
although you never knew it;
you could always make me smile,
but somehow, we didn't fit.

A one-sided love was all it was,
you didn't know just how I felt;
a brief encounter, a short-lived buzz,
you never saw the way my heart did melt.

I could have loved you, if you let me,
but you had someone else in mind;
you never realized, you let me be,
somebody you would never find.

But love unreturned, is no love at all,
and so I went, my unhurried way;
you weren't around to see me fall,
I just slowly vanished from your day.

You were mine, for just a little while,
although you never spoke a word to me;
funny, how you always made me smile,
and never knew the day you set me free.

Lost in the sweet rock and roll,
I hear the wailers shout;
Jerry Lee and Elvis, Little Richard,
what the music was about.

Living life up to the hilt,
the pounding of the piano;
like a fighter in the ring,
like Rocky Marciano.

Their opponent was the square,
today theyre called a nerd;
but it was rhythm and it was blues,
that through the void we heard.

Chuck Berry's song were gutty,
the lyrics interwoven;
he told Tchaikovsky the news,
and rolled on over Beethoven!

And Fats just walked us home,
past old Blueberry Hill;
said it was a shame,
I can them singing, still.

Fading into oblivion,
I read, I write and I laugh;
riding off, into the sunset,
I have no need to gaff.

Protests are for the young,
in their moral indignation;
against the forces of the strong,
corrupt and deranged nation.

Fighting for equality,
marching off, for peace;
while the world defaults,
of wars that never cease.

The elements of life wear down,
in silent, unseen nights;
of too much grand illusion,
destroyed by endless fights.

Let me disappear into the realm,
where few would care to go;
content with treasured memories,
and pleased with nature's show.

Let it fall,
the moisture from your eyes,
let it fall,
and let it flow;
for happiness in love,
for sorrows that you know.
Let your heart be glad,
for the world that touches you;
for undiscovered treasures,
of things you never knew.
Let your soul be happy,
for love that comes your way;
whether it be fleeting,
or whether it will stay.
Let you mind be peaceful,
with the beauty of your song;
let serenity be yours,
may all your life be long.
Let your voice sing out,
for you are most unique;
let truth be your desire,
in whatever you do seek.

I love the sunshine of the morning's day
when things are still and quiet;
when the cars and noise and traffic
don't create a roaring riot.
When the brightness of the hour,
pushes darkness to it's grave;
when to the coffee's flavor,
I am still a slave.
When the pace of life is muted,
when the breeze has not yet stirred;
when all the music is a bird call,
the only song that's heard.
Then I can face the afternoon,
and take whatever comes my way;
for once in motion, life takes place,
as time slips on away.

On the open field,
the soldiers bleed;
war's the price they paid,
they came to liberate,
and here they bled and stayed.

Now white crosses mark
the field,
hundreds in a row;
now the dead are buried,
the symbols in the moonlight glow.

Now it's a haunting ground,
where ghost and goblins lurk;
where we are frightened half to death,
by what the soldiers did not shirk.

War is killing our fine youth,
in spots we never knew;
in spots we never heard of,
where pilots over ...flew.

Names we best not think of,
if were to stay at peace;
with sanity and helplessness,
with wars that do not cease.

Good morning to you, Lord,
it's awfully good to see you;
you are shining bright above,
blazing in the heavens, blue.

I thank you for another day,
of life and precious living;
thank you for your mercy,
thank you for forgiving.

You are my morning coffee,
you are my welcomed friend;
knowing you stand with me,
until the final end.

I praise you in this poem,
I praise you in my prayer;
because you saved my life,
because you showed you care.

I offer up these meager words,
accept them, if you will;
the prayer and praise to you,
when my restless heart is still.

A poem's a fragile thing,
but oh the joy that words can bring!
it makes the heart and soul to sing,
it's like an eagle on the wing.
Poems can hurt the wounded one,
before the  summer's day is done;
before the setting of the sun,
before the battle's ever won.
A poem's a fragile thing,
it will lift you up or bring you down;
words can make you feel just like a king,
or cause you to think, you're just a clown.
Poets are the healers and the fighters,
they'll mend your wounds and sorrow;
they are the soulful, caring writers,
helping you to face tomorrow.
A poem's a fragile thing,
but they speak to generations;
it is the music of the soul they bring,
to every person, of all nations.

First of all, there came the breezes,
swirling gently, blowing soft, around;
then the sudden crack of thunder,
still, a far and distant sound.

Gradually, the air grew cooler,
dropping 20 degrees...or more;
then the raindrops played their melody,
and quickly...it began to pour.

I close my eyes and listen closely,
to the drips of pitter...patter;
the sun has gone from sight,
for now, it doesn't matter.

They're bowling up in heaven,
they're hurling lightning spears;
as the water gathers everywhere,
underneath the angel's tears.

A little moisture for the desert,
in a time of drought-parched need;
I meditate upon its fall,
and of our nature's heed.

I walk with God,
you think it odd?
He alone is friend,
He keeps me to the end.
The end is when your dead,
I'd rather be alive instead,
but we all know where we're going,
some are afraid of showing.
But to die is but to live,
the way to "get" is give,
we're too foolish with our pride,
we must set it all aside.
**** the ego and the lust,
in God we surely trust;
don't need no wanton greed,
He'll satisfy our need.
Bow your head and kneel,
think it out-don't just feel;
He is worthy of our praise,
He'll see us through our maze.
In the final scene we win,
if we stay free from sin;
so you see, it isn't odd,
what we do is honor God.

There will never be another you,
Thank God! Hallelujah, we are through;
you were a bombshell from the start,
too bad for you, you broke my heart.

Love is strange at certain times,
sometimes poetry don't rhyme;
but the message still gets across,
you thought today, you'd be the boss.

I wear the pants you see, my love,
be careful what you push or shove;
I don't want you to stay and "fight" it out,
until you know just what love's about.

You were a ballbreaker from day one,
guessed you were sumthin' under the sun;
tried to battle me and bring me down,
I am so glad, you're no more around.

You were unique, that much was true,
but you were a fad, that much I knew;
you tried to rule, and it was all in vain,
you were the one that finally went insane.

Give me a ship that has no rudder,
and a silver sea, to sail upon;
pack a few things to take,
and in the morning, I'll be gone.

Give me salt air and pleasant winds,
under God's blue canopy;
with breezes and the warming sun,
and clouds, for company.

Let stars be my companions,
a moon to call my own,
let the waves, lull me to sleep,
in directions I've not known.

I'll leave behind my compass,
lost in the Milky Way;
a solitary sailor,
free to go or stay.

There's a vessel in the harbor,
in the morning light- it's glowing;
and there isn't a ship, I wouldn't take,
no matter where it's going.

Tell me of this morning?
how does it suit your mood?
do you have contentment?
like eating comfort food?

Does it give you peace,
and a heart that's merry?
pack full of satisfaction,
and all your soul can carry?

Did you pray to get it right,
this world of toil and trouble?
or did your so-called friends,
pop your dreamlike bubble?

Did you find you're blessed,
in a thousand little ways?
by  great love and family,
to see you through the days?

Then the sunrise's magic,
and life is one sweet song;
for anywhere you turn to go,
His love will come along.

Don't tell me that our love is through -
that you want me from your sight;
starting with this very day,
beginning with this night.

Don't tell me our love's done -
that I won't be in your dreams;
that you won't think about me,
and I'll fall right though life's seams.

Don't tell me our love's over -
and I'll be memory;
something you can choose,
if to remember me.

Don't tell me now love's ended -
that I'll soon forget your face;
how can you throw it all away,
and suddenly erase?

Don't tell me our love's gone -
cast out with your last breath;
why does my soul still cry,
denying its own death?

I'll bring you flowers for your hair,
a wreath of bluebonnets;
to show you that I care,
and I'll put chocolates on it.

Each treat will be a kiss from me,
a sweet to satisfy your ruby lips;
then perhaps, your heart will see,
the way my heart does funny flips.

I'll give you happiness to share,
to let you know that you are dear to me;
and you can have my love, if you so dare,
maybe then, your eyes can see.

See the yearning that in my soul does hide,
see the reticent  aura in my being shy;
know that I desire you by my side,
know the longing that in my heart does lie.

I will give you laughter for your tears,
a hand to hold when obstacles appear;
I'll help to chase away your fears,
all you need to be, my love, is near.

What do we know of love?
marriage is a 50/50 chance;
that two will stay together,
until the final dance.

We throw it all away,
with anger and with hate;
then do it all again,
with a different mate.

Admire those who stay,
wrapped up in their dream;
who never come apart,
unraveling at the seams.

They choose to stay together,
as the vows they chose to make;
through thick and thin they stay,
from the first slice of the cake.

What do we know of love?
it's a gamble at the start;
we can only hope,
it doesn't break your heart.

Safe in my Father's arms-
I'm sheltered from the rain;
sheltered from the sorrow,
that often masks as pain.
His hands reach out to hold me-
there's a strength within His touch;
and though the hurt still lingers,
it doesn't hurt as much.
I'm secure in His great truth-
the blessings He has given;
knowing He still loves me,
make me go on living.
When my anger has subsided-
when the guilt is finally gone;
when my life's been turned around,
then my new life, will go on.
Safe, in my Father's arms-
I'm sheltered from the winds;
embracing fresh beginnings,
with a love that never ends.

The sun is much too hot this morning to sit,
outside, read the paper, the Bible or a book;
but with wafting of a gentle breeze,
I am content, to sit and look.

At bird life hopping in the locust tree,
hummingbirds at the glistening feeder;
they hover so **** close to my face,
frolicking with no apparent leader.

The  snarly trumpet vine shades me,
from the golden orb's great glare;
while cacti bask, in its molten heat,
they're almost everywhere.

My dog is panting by my side,
flitting from the sun and shade;
his endurance from the heat,
begins to wilt and fade.

So  to the cool interior we go,
into the place that I call home;
sitting in a chair, I contemplate,
and share with you this simple poem.

I call the hills my home,
as I walk this mound of earth;
for out it came man,
and later...came our birth.

The skies are but the ceiling,
from the beauty high above;
that change with every season,
and with the seasons...love.

Rain and snow, sometimes hail,
the weather never ceases;
only men and women age,
and with that come...the creases.

I'm a pilgrim and a sojourner,
walking on the plains;
content to live my life,
as my youth does wane.

I call the hills my home,
but not my destination;
I'm headed for a world,
of another... higher station.

Sometimes, it takes a lifetime,
to discover who you are;
sometimes, in life's journey,
it's like traveling to a star.
You think, you'll never get there,
but then, one day you find;
that distances don't matter,
when the goal is in your mind.
When the search is deep within you,
when the puzzle is, your heart;
the heart has no known compass,
so you don't where to start.
You're lost inside a circle,
that keeps coming back to you;
until you finally free yourself,
then, your life begins - anew.
And the end is now in sight,
and you're certain of the way;
it's the place within your soul,
where your certain, you will stay.

Just a little while with love,
just a time with pleasure;
just moments in the sun,
laughter, without measure.

Just a walk down memory's lane,
with pieces of a dream;
with fragments of a song,
with life's fast, fleeting scene.

Just a blink of sweet delight,
with romance and with you;
scattered pieces of a heart,
from folks who once, I knew.

Just a shadow from the sun,
that quickly fades in space;
just the lingering perfume,
of the earth's sweet face.

Just a flicker of the past,
when life was always grand;
when in love's embrace,
you softly took my hand.

Weep no more my lady,
sadly fades the light;
but memories of love,
sustain me with their might.

When we were young and strong,
when our bodies were on fire;
when I neglected things,
and you were my one desire.

Then, life had much more meaning,
and your kisses flowed like wine;
and the treasured moment of my life,
was in your arms...entwined.

When your laughter was sweet music,
when your touch was mine alone;
when your embrace was heaven,
and we'd nothing to atone.

When the nights were never long,
and the days, were never dull;
when the waves broke ever gently,
against our love's great hull.

When will you feel the need,
to have Him by your side?
to walk in truth and honesty,
and by His laws abide?

When will you feel the urge,
to cast aside your sinning;
and walk with love instead of hate,
and start a new beginning?

To declare you've had enough,
of the glitter of the city;
of its obvious pretensions,
we only can have pity.

There's a higher calling in you,
than the drugs or endless drink;
a safer refuge from the world,
so much closer than you think.

He stands at the door and knocks,
if you let Him, He'll come in;
and you'll wonder why you waited,
and He'll ask you where you've been.

Hello poetry, what's your rhyme today?
can you take me far from here,
to a distant land unknown,
where I've nothing more to fear?

To some secluded shore,
to a pleasant, quiet beach?
or have something more profound,
and mysterious, to teach?

Carry me to dreamland,
leave me in it's clutch;
where I can find but solitude,
and won't have to think too much.

To a golden sunset on the hill,
to a sunrise that is grand;
to spaces of the west,
to a peak in Switzerland.

I feel the heartbreak of your loss,
I feel the joy you send;
I marvel at the words that touch,
and the way my mind does bend.

Shall I liken you to a day in summer?
You are more lovely and at peace,
Harsh weather dwells in the month of May,
and summer is soon departed.
Often, the heaven's eye shines bright,
and at times, it's rather clouded,
sometimes the climate's not so fair,
and Nature falls short of perfect.
But the eternity of your summer doesn't die,
and the beauty of your years remains alive,
Death has no  dominion over you,
you always will remain upon my heart.
So long as men can see and hear;
you'll be forever with me dear.

Heaven waits and often does,
for those that seek its prize;
hell can wait as well my love,
this corpse has yet to die.
There's too much poetry to write,
too many hills to climb;
we've more music to enjoy,
before we're past our prime.
Too many friends to visit,
too many books to read,
the soul will let you know,
just what it is we need.
Fight against the dying light,
light a candle if you must;
we've too many things to do,
before we bite the dust.

you think you know most everything,
but I know you don't know me;
you don't feel the heart within,
it's the one you cannot see.

you think you walk on water,
but what it is, is sand;
and you don't know anything,
you don't know me as a man.

you can only guess what I'm about,
I think that you'd be wrong;
you only know the words I speak,
but you don't know my song.

you don't know the way I feel,
when you pass without a word;
when your nose in the air,
you cannot see or hear.

you think you know most everything,
and I don't know where to start;
to offer you my outstretched hand,
and give to you my heart.

Baseball, the national pastime,
one of the slowest games in the world;
hot dogs, beer and half-crazed fans,
once the sphere is rudely hurled.

The rain, the wind, the humid days,
we sit for hours and cheer;
what is it about this loony game,
that to us the fans, endear?

We hate the ref, will taunt the ump,
we hoot and call out loudly;
they play the national anthem,
and most of us stand proudly.

The Red Sox and the Yankees,
the losers and the best;
it gives us fits and starts,
so much, we cannot rest.

But when that ball goes in the stands,
it's a lovely thing to see;
who can live without the game?
certainly, not me.

There is a love, that doesn't know a boundary,
it's unconditional and given free;
no limits to its everlasting arms,
security and comfort just for me.


There is a peace that passes understanding,
a quietness that has no name;
you give your burden up to Him,
He'll take away the awful pain.

There is a blessing, one can never measure,
it's like a fountain from on high;
it's a richness money can't obtain,
we should never pass that blessing by.

There is a joy, that fills the mind and heart,
that brings sweet solace to the soul;
a happiness that's a constant  pleasure,
it will fill you up more than you know.

There is a love, that flows just as a river,
winding strong and gently to the sea;
serene and calm, it lies there, waiting,
waiting patiently, for you and me.

If we turn away from Him,
He will not turn toward us;
we bear the burden of the flesh,
we cheat, we lie, we lust.

If we say His name aloud,
then he'll mark us as His own;
who dwell on truth and God,
who's praises we have sown.

We keep the ten commandments,
and sing His name on high;
kneel daily in our prayer to Him,
and on angels wings we fly.

His truth is Love and righteousness,
there's great mercy in His breath;
he will shelter us in life,
and honor us in death.

He is the King of Kings,
His blessings, all, are good;
His name means our Salvation,
through peace and brotherhood.

We chase the ghosts of youth,
with glove and bat and ball;
running down the base-paths,
hoping we don't fall.

Like honey in slow motion,
we make our way to first;
panting... out of breath,
we hope our lungs don't burst.

If we're in the outfield,
we've "lost" the legs to run;
but it's the game we treasure,
it's mostly to have fun.

We laugh at our mistakes,
strikeouts and dropped flies;
it's but play... that we seek,
not self -regretted sighs.

Long gone, the grace of youth,
we muddle through the game;
and rest upon the off days,
tired... happy... lame.

Solitary hiker, trudging up the slopes,
breath quickened by the angle;
hallway up, I spot a rock, sit, and
let my legs below me, dangle.

Take in the valley, far below,
that lingers lovely in my gaze;
through mist-filled clouds,
and scattered haze.

I find my pulse on my carotid,
the big artery on my neck;
it's bounding and it's fast,
but I continue, on my trek.

I slow the pace with measured gait,
granny steps and slow walking;
nearing now the summit's crest,
my hips and legs do all the balking.

Solitary walker, his face now in the clouds,
congratulates himself at last;
looks out into the far horizons,
out to the mountains of his past.

I haven't many tears to shed,
to those who spoil our earth;
they've made their sinful bed,
cursed their own sweet birth.

Polluters of the world are they,
who one day will be down;
they mar the fields of play,
and destroy the ground.

**** the land, against her will,
with garbage and with scorn;
with pride, they slowly ****,
where flowers once were born.

The landscapes now are bare,
where once the hills grew tall;
the developers don't care,
as they watch the big trees fall.

I haven't many tears to shed,
for those that hurt the land;
they should be saving it instead,
and take a moral stand.