Be there with me Lord,
as I climb the mountain;
as I struggle onward,
to drink from Your true fountain.

Give me strength from sinning,
give me a touch of grace;
keep me on the narrow path,
that leads right to Your place.

Let me be forgiving Lord,
from injuries received;
give me Your just wisdom,
from which I'm not deceived.

Give me a heart that's full of love,
for every human being;
let me be Your shining light,
of strangers I am seeing.

Be there with me Lord,
still my insurrection;
and don't forget my soul,
on my day of resurrection!

Age follows me,
like a puppy, all around;
I can't shake its shadow,
we just go round and round.

The days pass by much quicker,
the nights, they come too soon;
and in between, the hours fly,
with a crass mind of its own.

That's life; you cannot slow it down,
trying - it never seems to jell;
I'm running to a different clock,
some days, it's just as well.

With age, comes greater wisdom,
at least that's what they say;
my seriousness has faded,
but I had it-  back in the day.

So, I relish all the sunsets,
that time provides for me;
as I await the final one,
whenever that may be.

Howdy George -
Here I am in sunny Arizona,
the heat is fine and mellow;
it warms the bones real nice,
I'm a fortunate, happy fellow.
The sky is very blue and clear.
I can see for miles and miles;
the people here are friendly,
they're tanned, full of smiles.
The women, are most lovely,
light-browned, very charming;
and their smiles are best of all,
totally disarming.
In the distance, purple peaks,
twice as high as here;
in the clearest air I've seen,
they seem to be quite near.
There's something special here,
that old-time places lack;
I'm already indoctrinated,
and I might not make it back.
See, I've put all cares aside,
and I'm drinking ice-cold beer;
but still I say to you, old friend,
sure wish that you were here.

- Dave.

God is light. Darkness knows it not
this world is blinded by the night
burdened by their heavy loads
they don't know our loads are light.
God is love. We can't fathom hate
and we cannot practice malice
nor abide in hidden sin
lest we lose God's promised palace.
God is life. Eternal life, His gift
by His grace we strive to live
keep enduring till the end
we choose not to get, but give.
God is truth. A lamp that lights our path
we travel on a narrow road
fight off the evil, ugly thoughts
His strength's strong, to lift our load.
God is mercy. Forgiving and forgetting
He's comforting and tender
He does not tally up our faults
and to Him we're all one gender.

Mud and snow, block the path,
we slow, and find our way;
the sun is bright, the skies so blue,
are the reasons that we stay.

Darkened pines obscure the view,
of snow-capped peaks far off;
we dodge the rock strewn trail,
puddles shine, like brownish broth.

Then, the hillsides open up,
a thousand feet, above the road;
the highway is a serpent,
through the mountain's fold.

The air up here is pure and clean,
it rejuvenates the being;
the soul is stirred by visions,
of the beauty we are seeing.

We hike until we're tired,
though our weariness is nice;
for this time and for this moment,
this walk...   it will suffice.

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.

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.

Hello Poetry, how things go for you today?
ready for thoughts that come your way?
expressions of pain and love and strife
that hurt and heal and cut like a knife.

Ready for confessions that say enough?
for the things of life that do get tough?
for the constant battle of passing days?
for those that leave and for those who stay?

The world's a stage as Shakespeare said
a famous line from one that's dead
the greatest writer you never did see
he was good for some, but not for me.

My best loved poet wrote of the north
into the snows,  he ventured forth
under the aurora  borealis he strode
in search of a good poem...not gold.

To each, his own, the saying goes
when a poem comes, it often flows
making the writer feel real good
but isn't that how, poetry should?

Fall graciously or do not fall at all,
sin you do not know befriends you;
you do not care to listen to its call,
you are changed, when all is through.

You fell from grace and hurt your soul,
maybe you did not know wrong;
but your conscience knew inside,
that this was not the same old song.

An angel of light she looked to you,
her mystery a sought desire;
she caused your fall and wound,
and burned you with her fire.

We can't know all there is to know,
we're blinded by the golden veil;
we cannot hear our loved ones cry,
when we  begin to fall and fail.

Fall graciously or do not fall at all,
you have no guide, but one;
ignore him at your soul's great cost,
you've a battle yet, that isn't won.

Is it me or is every one in a hurry?
the people walk too fast, they scurry;
'tis the time of year, I suppose,
but don't you stop, to smell the rose?
Don't you slow, to catch the breeze,
don't you say thank you or if you please?
are we so obsessed that we don't see?
do we forget cordiality?
It's that time again, my friend,
when our best wishes, we should send;
reach out to those in dire need,
give a gift and plant a seed.
The Lord, He loves a cheerful giver,
stay way from ***** and save your liver.
Take your time, don't make haste,
time's a precious thing to waste;
the holidays will soon be gone,
till then bask in December's song.

Father, I have trust, Your truth will long endure.
for Your word is honest,   strong and pure;
it rests my heart, from doing wrong,
my soul sings, Your praise,  in song.

You lift me high above the sinful earth,
and I give thanks, for my human birth;
to learn Your laws, that keep  me sound,
to keep me safe, where I am bound.

You give me peace, in the midst of storm,
You give me shelter, to keep me warm;
You bring me joy, and ease the sorrow,
so I stand tall, and face tomorrow.

You give me beauty, to where I turn an eye,
You cause my thoughts,  to rise and fly;
to where the mind,  can  find its  rest,
to find the bliss,  that I know best.

These are the lyrics of my thoughts to You,
for You are with me,  in everything I do;
there is no other life,   that I can truly see,
and so Your precious love, abides in me.

Always, You were with me
when paths were long and rough
when I failed to hear Your voice
when life was hard and tough.
When life had little meaning
when daydreams were obscured
I fought against the system
and not once was I heard.
Always, You were with me
in nights where nothing mattered
in rage where anger ruled
and lives were often shattered.
When the wind, it blew too strongly
when it stormed most every day
when there was little comfort
when bitter moments had their say.
Always, You were with me
through the thick and thin
but You saved me from the pit
and from my life of sin.

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.

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.

Mary Magdalene followed Jesus
seven devils in her past
but Jesus blessed her heart
and His blessings always last.
She came to His tomb with spices
to anoint His sainted head
but he was risen and gone
raised from His fleshly dead.
As a spirit, to his Father in heaven
to sit at His right hand
to await His earthly return
so we might understand.
To judge the righteous and wicked
to rule with an iron hand
to correct our carnal mistakes
so we might understand.
To establish His heavenly kingdom
all part of salvation's plan
to give us all life eternal
so we might understand.

Never see tomorrow with misgivings,
never see the past with sad regret;
have no qualms about the present,
of expectations that are not met.

Be content with treasures that you have,
faith in God, your family and friends;
good health, life's simple pleasures,
and a love you know will never end.

The quiet of a peaceful morning,
the splendid glory of a grand sunrise;
the scent of perfume on a summer's day,
the coos of doves... the eagle's cries.

The blue of heaven dotted with white clouds,
the rain that falls... gently on one's face;
the laughter of the one you love beside you,
the refreshment of her warm embrace.

Be glad for now and whatever comes hereafter,
bask in the sunshine and the shadows of your day;
savor all happiness that should come along,
as you enjoy each moment of life's day.

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.

When you came unto my life
it brightened up my day
some doldrums faded swiftly
I threw the rest away.

The first date is the standard test
will I like her, will she like me?
I was pleased and jubilant
(the way it worked you see).

You were charming and delightful
as we chatted about life
about ordinary things
work and play, stress and strife.

Old loves, better times and music
books we liked and ones we hated
food we loved, the past and present
and things  better left unstated.

When you came into my life,
you were like sunshine after rain
I felt whole again, revived
like someone finally free of pain.

When the darkness falls,
I hope you'll be secure;
in a place of safety,
in which you will endure.

When the twilight comes,
I hope you have God's grace;
in the shelter of His arms,
where you may find a place.

When the darkness falls,
and what we know is gone;
destruction will prevail,
and life will be a pawn.

When stars no longer shine,
and the way is hard to find;
follow God's great light,
that permeates your mind.

When the darkness falls,
know that the end is near;
but with His precious love,
we've nothing more to fear.

The dawn is fast approaching,
the pink gives way to yellow;
the morning dew is fading,
the world is still yet mellow.

The splendid sun is shining,
is anything more grand?
let's take off to the meadow,
and climb the hilltop, hand in hand.

Let's forget about things pressing,
throw all caution to the wind;
laugh and kiss and tumble,
like the day will never end.

Gaze at the setting orb,
as the shadows creep on in;
walk down the grade at twilight,
when all the brightness dims.

Catch the coolness of the evening,
on the porch, upon the swing;
gathering thoughts of love,
and what the night will bring.

On a fast train straight to nowhere,
I got off at Despair City;
chock full of loathing for my soul,
and wallowing in self-pity.

I had a case of heebie-jeebies,
couldn't hold my peace for nothing;
all my calmness was shot to hell,
that my life would not mean something.

Disgust was staring in my face,
the blues were pounding on my door;
I was losing friends, left and right,
life was hopeless; without a core.

I was on a bus to nowhere,
I got off in Sorrow city;
a rundown town of broken spirits,
its condition wasn't pretty.

If there's a hell-hole, this was it,
polluted, dark and decadent;
and the turmoil never ended,
no matter where it was I went.

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.

Crimson, was the color of the dress you wore,
the night, we danced, out in the square;
lunar beams, cast moon-glow on your face,
the breeze, caressed, your auburn hair.

We danced, to music no one else could hear,
that night, was just for us, alone;
the stars, were cast upon a cloak of black,
that night, they were like jewels that shone.

Held tight, we swayed to sounds of love,
embraced, we floated, in love's trance;
our feet and heart were whirling too,
in the throes of lover's dance.

Our love, like perfume, lingered on,
sweet and magical, we laughed aloud;
the two, of us, so all alone,
so separated from the crowd.

Crimson, was the color of the dress you wore,
the night, we danced, out in the square;
two dreams, one love and mystery,
dancing, in the mist of love... one pair.

The morning's light is soft and tender,
I sip my coffee - greet the day;
the hummingbirds are sipping theirs,
the world is silent in its play.

The sun is climbing in the heavens,
spreading warmth, erasing dark;
the rains that fell from days ago,
slowly lose their puddled mark.

The summer's touch is halfway gone,
it's such a subtle blend of light;
when days grow short and fold,
the evening, with the night.

The seasons come and quickly go,
in life's great passing scenes;
leaving fading memories,
of what their passing means.

The morning light is soft and tender,
it will not last too long;
I greet it with a lifted cup,
and welcome it's sweet song.

The heart is tired and growing heavy,
the body's calling me to sweet sleep;
I say so long for things today,
as the land of Nod in stillness creeps.
I will dream and not remember,
I will wake, let's hope, refreshed;
even in the fog of early morning,
as sleep and wakefulness, are meshed.
Goodnight to friends and fellow poets,
thanks for all the joys you bring;
that tug at our emotions daily,
that cause the weary soul to sing.
Sharing grievance with the world,
sharing every happiness;
without your voices heard and raised,
your poems would all be sorely missed.

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.

FAREWELL MY LOVE
I'm off to la-la land
to the spot called Nod
I'm sure you understand.

Seasons change as seasons do
the dawn comes awful early
and if I miss my sleep
I wake up very surly.

The night comes late
the sun comes quicker
in my bedroom window
the birds begin their bicker.

Sunrise comes a-creeping
sunrise brings the light
my eyes absorb the glow
and thus, it ends my night.

So, I'm off to bed at nine
to dream of sugar-plums
and other dream-like things
until the morning comes.

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.

I never asked for love,
it slapped me in the face;
I would have walked on by,
content with my own pace.

But one can't ignore a slap,
when it's planted on your cheek;
when it's a bolt out of the blue,
not something that you seek.

You have to pay attention,
to a thing such as a slap;
to what was not apparent,
on your human map.

I looked and then I looked again,
for once, was not, enough;
you took me by surprise,
my demeanor turned to fluff.

I stammered in my mind,
for what I proposed to say;
and then, before, I could speak,
you'd gone the other way.

Guess what. I can run the dishwasher,
fix my own meals and never hunger;
but there's things I cannot do,
except when I was younger.
But I can vacuum floors and such,
wash my clothes and run the dryer;
I have trouble reaching stuff,
sometimes I use a wire.
I pay the bills quite promptly,
pay the credit cards real fast;
stretch the meat and peanut butter,
so that way, I hope, they'll last.
I take care of what I need to,
I don't bother with the rest;
I take my share of naps
sometimes those are best.
And if, by God, I need to,
I'll work my fingers to the bone
only one thing I can't handle
and that's to be...alone.

Scoffers, skeptics, fools,
too far away from God
laugh at my convictions
and often call me odd.

Because my faith is solid
because my faith is strong
I laugh right back at them
and call them wrong.

Morals have been lost
values down the drain
ethics out the window
intolerance...insane!

The devil throws the dice
and wins most of the time
most anything now goes
what's done is just a crime.

It's too late to save them
from the lake of fire
they've tossed it all away
by the flames of their desire.

The bench I rest on,
is not fully in the sun;
but today is rather mild,
and my walk is nearly done.

The quiet is a stranger,
the traffic's almost nil;
no breeze to stir the air,
the pace of life is still.

Bill William's peak is to the north,
a mountain man of years ago;
the hills of Prescott to the south,
bask in the morning's glow.

In 5,000 feet of altitude,
I am parked upon this bench;
reflecting on life's journey,
and its sometime monkey wrench.

I note that I am satisfied with love,
daily walks; music and good books;
my mind contains glad memories,
of life's ever-changing looks.

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 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.

I'm not ready to go, just yet,
let me stay a little longer;
I'm not that old you know,
perhaps a bit less stronger.
But my mind, it's still alive,
sharp as a tack... (I think);
I have many things to do,
that will keep me in the pink.
Old age is but a state of mind,
I have pleasant memories;
the years have been but kind,
(tho' I've sailed on troubled seas).
Let me leave when I am ready,
I will fight the dying light;
I'll be wary of the coming storm,
and the never-ending night.
Let this life keep right on rolling,
like the pages of some book;
content with passages of time,
for the world, one long last look.

The monsoon has arrived
with anticipated rain-
too little for our drought
of our arid, thirst-starved plain.
But every drop is welcome
with a fraction of its sum-
more in the days ahead
that certainly will come.
This rain fell hard and fast
cold and wet and measured-
the moisture signifying
something that was treasured.
The air,  now brisk and cool
a sweatshirt may be needed-
even just a long-sleeved shirt
is a piece of clothing heeded.
God gives us want of things
at His own pace and time-
on this high desert ground
of prickly pear and pine.

Heaven is my throne and
the earth, my footstool
He shouted from the
thunderous skies
where is the house that
you can build for me?
bolts of lightning were
the only replies.

Tell me quickly if
you you've a tongue
answer me now,  if you can
I'll ask but once -
this one time only
where were you
when I created man?

I am a God above all gods
asking only for your love
for your support unto my laws
that come down from up above.

I will forgive if you repent
if you're baptized, and don't fear it
if you're agreed - to receive
the gift of the Holy Spirit.

I will bless all those that bless you
those that curse you I will curse
if you're obedient to my ways
and fear me not, for the worse.

A new walk is welcoming,
seeing sights from new perspective;
climbing hills where I have never been,
is my choice and my elective.

The mountain looms before me,
eight thousand feet of pine and rock;
where I get "lost" among the vastness,
with no need of constant talk.

The shadows cool the early sun,
the breeze, refreshment to my brow;
the views are peaceful, tranquil, quiet,
I cannot put in words, just how.

The summit stays in pleasant distance,
I am content to walk its base;
circling in the foothills, far below,
I set my own sweet measured pace.

I will come back another day,
to see new sights of what's around;
today is God's great gift to me,
and in his Nature, I am found.

There's a gypsy in my blood,
that wants to run the road -
and I must travel to the spot,
to where my heart's been sold.

Give me, the open spaces,
let me wander in the night -
let me hike the distant hill,
then my heart will be all right.

I've a need to roam the land,
for the  places I still seek -
to hear the wild goose cries,
to view the snow-capped peak.

Guide my feet to somewhere,
absent traffic and no talk -
just the hush of quiet forest,
under leaves where I do walk.

There's a gypsy in my blood,
to be a carefree vagabond -
taking solace in a journey,
to the vast and far beyond.

This world is hard to bear Lord,
when no one speaks Your name;
when they shun the church Lord,
and pitch and toss the blame.
That our president is crazy,
and the cops are not our friend;
that we can sort it out this time,
where does the madness end?
When will we pay attention,
and note the futile plans;
nothing more is gained, but lost
according to men's plans.
When will the nations realize,
without Him, we are lost;
and were headed for oblivion,
regardless of the cost?
The world is sliding down the tubes,
confusion in the streets;
with chaos in the cities Lord,
and where the suburbs meet.

Among the boulders- I escaped the wind,
settled for the shelter of the rocks;
just me and Jax and no one else,
on our daily different walks.

Jax never made a sound, no barks,
he was contented on this hike;
man's best friend was mine,
everyplace we went...he liked.

Even walking city streets,
strolling avenues;
I cured our boring morning,
as we chased away our blues.

Two vagabonds, just walking,
for exercise and joy;
a bond that lasts forever,
that death cannot destroy.

Perhaps we'll walk in heaven,
treading sacred clouds;
invisible to others,
two happy, wandering shrouds.

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.

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.

Do you want to live forever?
then in Him you must believe;
our flesh and bones will perish,
let the wounded heart not grieve.
The Spirit finds its way to God,
for God recalls His own creation;
and our death is temporary,
likened to a waiting station.
There will be a resurrection,
and we'll get a second chance;
to accept His sovereignty,
to be invited to His dance.
Then we'll be His great disciples,
with Love our first command;
sharing peace with other people,
it's part of His own perfect plan.
Flesh and blood are prone to sin,
in the Sprit lies salvation;
for every race and every one,
for every single nation.

Show me a place where the breezes are a-blowing
where pines shine green, that's where I'll be going
where weather's kinda fickle, and comes by chance
that's where I'm headed,  like a dancer to a dance.

Like a rooster to a hen-house, like a bee to the honey
it's freedom of the soul, and you don't need money
air where there's no stink, skies that glow so clear
where you lose your blues, with nature so **** near.

Where the sun is bathed in shadow, to ward off any heat
all you hear are footsteps; it's the sound of your own feet
the view from ancient hilltops is super-sweet and grand
and you marvel of creation, made by God's own hand.

There's the quiet all around you, still, the silence speaks
your reward, greatest grandeur, that weary hikers seek
that brings joy to your heart, sparing you from older pain
now, you know you've shed the hurt and it is on the wane.

Yes, there's a place I know quite well, where wind is blowing
and you've probably guessed by now, that's where I'll be going
with a knapsack on my back, and some cool water on my side
I'll see you - sooner or later- for now's the time I hide.

Be with me Lord
when I am in a fearful place
and of your presence
there is no apparent trace
only darkness that prevails
and there is no shining light
only sadness that seems
to cover me like night
Be with me as I seek the way to You
turning from the clutches of despair
to find the exits that exist
to find the stair.
Be  with me Lord to fight the dark
to resist the ever present foe
reach out to me and guide me
show me just the way to go.
Be with me Lord and be my light
direct me in the street of decency
blot out my shameful shadowed past
I ask for You to rescue me.

A new year Lord -
to open up our eyes
to cleanse our hearts
to stop the lies.

Lies they separate us
from the King above
lies that break apart
the ones we know and love.

A new year Lord -
to stop the sinning
that keeps us losing
instead of winning.

Siding with the darkness
shutting out the light
making wrong our choices
ending up in plight.

A new year Lord -
to rectify our badness
that destroys the soul
and always ends in sadness.

Where breezes are a-blowing,
'tis there,  that I'll be going,
high in the pines, still green,
viewing places seldom seen;
In the fresh and fragrant air,
hiking sure, without much care,
I revel in the silence,  grand,
with only God to take my hand.
The wind caresses every tree,
blows clouds away so I can see,
the brilliance of the sun so bright,
it magnifies my squinted sight.
The leaves are rustled, with no sound,
here,  the soul at rest is found,
the troubled world lies far below,
and peace just like a river,  flows.
Here,  I find the breezes blowing,
here,  I find contentment, knowing,
that nature soothes the savage breast,
and sometimes... solitude is best.

All my life's been sun and shadow
brought about in different ways
youth and vigor, aging seasons
brilliant light and dark-filled days.
Interspersed with rain and snow
blown by winds both mild and strong
days of happiness, too short
sleepless  nights that went too long.
All my life's been sun and shadow
winsome days, with little care
days of turmoil, tinged in sadness
just a step from deep despair.
Fleeting now, the bloom of youth
present now, the chilly wind
darkness gains upon the light
eventually,  the seasons  end.
All my life's been sun and shadow
chased by moods both good and bad
but the good outweighed the other
of every season that I had.

Good Golly Miss Molly
rock  and roll has died
with your passing yesterday
rock and rollers cried.
Long Tall Sally says goodbye
the heart of soul has gone
we will miss the shouts
that sparked your earthy song.
Lucille and Rip It Up
have faded in the light
buried with your mournful voice
that echoes  in the night.
Little Richard gone from sight
with others of his kind
but the music, it lives on
in the framework of the mind.