There are times...like now,
when the summer sun is fading;
when the slant of light is on the windowpane,
underneath the awning, things are shading.

When the grass is freshly cut,
and lies basking in the field;
the earth seems graced with wonder,
at what the season's yield.

There are times...like now,
when the afternoon is ending;
when the twilight does her thing,
and the world keeps tilting, bending.

I welcome in, the evening,
when the roar becomes a lull;
discovering life's magic,
never stodgy, boring, dull.

There are times...like now,
when the fill of life is grand;
and splendid are the views,
from the spot whereon you stand.

In the shadows of the twilight
I will take my daily walk
and thru passages of time
to my Savoir,  I will talk.
I will talk and He will listen
how went the passing day
whether good or bad
from Him, I will not stray.
From His word I will not waver
to that still small voice inside
that keeps me true and humble
from my arrogance and pride.
Darkness now approaches
fading fast, the golden light
the stars appear in Glory
announcing His great Might.
Gazing at the evening sky
I accept what will transpire
leave mute, the question why
praising Him, whose truth is higher.

I know that when I left you,
I would never be the same;
but leaving you, I had to do it,
excuses are so sad and lame.

I was relieved, but hardly happy,
yet I'm serene and now at peace;
the tension's gone, the burden lifted,
the turmoil and the anguish, ceased.

Love's unkind in certain places,
there, with you, was one of them;
I had to nip it,   "in the bud,"
cut off the bending stem.

I know that when I left you,
what we had was done and gone;
but I couldn't listen to the record skip,
to play, again, the same old song.

And I know that when I left you,
the final curtain has come down;
and when I left, it was for good,
you and love,  this tired town.

A little while with love and laughter
a little time with tears and smiles
some vivid haunting memories
takes us across the miles...

Walking through the sands of time
we face the coming seasons
some are meaningful and strong
some are without rhyme or reason...

A little while with family
a little while with friends
the life that we tread on
seems it will never end.

But then, it does surprise us
in varied, puzzled ways
the end becomes apparent
as we enter final days.

A little time with magic
a little time with joy
take the time to lengthen it
and more memories to employ.

I am tired of the
long and winding road,
the miles that seem to be,
never ending in their length;
the constant search for
new and far horizons,
erodes my tiring strength.

Yet there's adventure in
the climbing of the hill,
when suddenly, the view
appears unto the tired eye;
the scene unfolds below,
so beautiful, it makes one sigh.

The clouds recede in
shaded, varied form,
a hint of rain or just a shower;
nature's show of budding dreams,
I'm in awe, of its great power.

I am a weary traveler on this day,
the open highway becomes dull;
the hum of tires, monotonous,
I have lapsed into a lull.

I stop for coffee,   at some
unknown and lonely town;
park and **** the engine's noise,
stop and stretch and walk around.

The coffee does the trick
and I am off once more,
good for another hundred miles;
the cattle in the fields, behind
the fences, leer at me,  with
stupid smiles.

Mood affects thought,
memories still alive,
of pain some have brought,
with mournful sigh.

Images one can't erase,
linger like a bitter taste,
passing past my face,
such a human waste.

Errors made so long ago,
failure of the soul,
what then, we did not know,
what now, will make us whole.

Ignorance was bliss indeed,
morality was just a choice,
feeling good was just a need,
we never heard the guilty voice.

And now, those days, are gone,
is it too late to save the sinner?
now we know the right and wrong,
are we now, a winner?

Hear the whispers in the night?
something that ain't quite right;
a snort, a cough or rattling thing
who knows what the night might bring?

A scratching, doorknob turned sound
squeaking doors where no one's found;
scurrying, rapid, blurry mice
or something else that ain't so nice.

Muffled cries, sobs, a faint dog's bark
things get hairy, shadows in the park;
your mind is shutting down it's spark
get ready, get set, get on your mark.

GO! To the nearest exit, fast and flee
escape from things you cannot  see;
out the door, to a next door neighbor
or to someone else you favor.

Things that go bump in the night
giving your heart a dreadful fright;
why take chances, there in your bed?
it's better to wake up alive instead.

I think I can't see evil anymore,
not that it's not there I know
I turn my heart from evidence
of it's ugly show
I look for goodness in the heart
from where the sunshine glows.

The good should always
overweigh the bad
happiness should always
eliminate the sad
memories that contain the good
should be the only ones we ever had.

Smiles should never bow to frowns
no matter how your life is upside down
depression just kills the angry soul
and without, we can be whole
there's more to life than
just one role.

Be content and show your love
be a friend to all that really need
we are our brother's watchman
and for his assistance
we all must heed
if we do not
then all of us will bleed.

You were a sordid torment to my soul,
with your differences, well expressed;
your love, it couldn't make me whole,
I was a fool in love, and I never guessed.
Your abrasions took me by surprise,
your rudeness was an added slap;
I felt stupid,  who once felt wise,
but our division was too great a gap.
I was thoroughly wounded to the core,
bent and bruised by angry hurtful things;
I then surmised I wanted you no more,
those weren't memories love brings.
I tried my best to make you understand,
to rectify the wrongs you accused me of;
but in the end, you never took my hand,
so it disappeared,  what once was love.
I'll not lay down and play the fool,
it's too late to mend and turn around;
I left you and I finally let you rule,
I only hope it's happiness you found.

Sun's bright, air's chill,
on my evening walk;
wind bites at my neck,
but not enough to balk.

Legs give way to joy,
I break into smiles;
snow on far off peaks,
perhaps, a 100 miles.

Winter's grass is golden,
like Kansas in the Spring;
it dances in the breeze,
making my heart sing.

Serenity surrounds me,
it gently heals the soul;
eliminates the jaded view,
makes my being whole.

Tonight, the seasons glow,
as coyotes howl and croon;
I gather stars with fingers,
and then, I kiss the moon.

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.

Such a grand and glorious morning!
The air fresh and invigorating, I
want to "bottle it" and preserve it
forever;
Such days are far-between and fleeting,
the touch of spring, the lived-for-
weather.
Relish it, before it fades away,
when hot and muggy days appear;
then, hope that Autumn comes,
and soon - the cooler evenings near.
But then comes days, of gray and
chilly mornings,
when icicles from in your nose;
when brutal cold comes from the north,
and shatters your repose.
Seasons change more often than we think,
here one afternoon, then next day, gone;
the earth turns fiercely as we stand and speak,
the march of time... goes on and on.
And too soon, we fade, as does the setting sun,
knowing that the race, it soon will end;
we go, like changes in the ever-constant seasons,
wondering what awaits beyond the bend.

Don't waste your time on dreams
things forgotten half the time;
face reality instead
to dream, it's just a crime.

Dreams are great deceivers
most don't make much sense;
why give into fantasy?
it just makes the brain more dense.

Dreams are great pretenders
fluffy magic in your sleep;
if they're taken seriously
they may cause you to weep.

We don't recommend them
(that's me, myself and I);
they are troublemakers
I don't know just why.

Dreams are just delusions
that laugh and run away;
that hide in darker shadows
they never come your way.

I was once a dreamer
but they just passed me by;
and so I soon forgot them
I don't know just why.

I'll never sow the seeds of discontent,
time with you is precious and well spent;
I could never seek to put you down,
you're too enjoyable to be around.
You'd never be an object of my scorn,
it's for your love only,  I was born;
we were soulmates then and we still are,
you're my guiding light and treasured star.
I will never be the one that lets you go,
it would pain me deeply - that you know;
I'll stay with you, through thick and thin,
you'll never have to wonder where I've been.
You are too beautiful, for me to ever lose,
you are the only one, I'd ever want to choose;
I will be committed... until the very end,
whatever obstacles ahead, around the bend.
I will never say to you...my dear,  it's over,
I'll never be a cheater or a wayward rover;
together...we can face both hurt and sorrow,
together...we can share the promise of tomorrow.

Father, we thank You for this day,
of sun and wind and cloud;
for love and joy and hope,
for a weary head, unbowed.
For the taste of maple syrup,
on pancakes, as a meal;
for the varied foods you give,
for the way they make us feel.
For music of our choice,
for the poets that make rhymes;
for the happiness of sharing,
the outcomes of our times.
For the solitude of silence,
far away from city sights;
for the brilliance of a sunset,
for the coming of the night.
Father,  great Creator,
we offer prayers to You;
almighty God,  Prince of Peace,
we praise You through and through!

November sunshine
warms my chilly heart;
tentacles of sun
heats each frigid part.
Indian summer
lingers in the air;
mild days, sunny days
has a certain flair.
Contented evenings
mellow into night;
blue reverts to black
swallowing the light.
Enchanted mornings
the songbirds singing;
perhaps hints of hope
of days beginning.
November sunshine
melts the cool of dawn;
takes the shadows frown
and soaks the tired lawn.

Father bless this brand new day,
of summer's sun and ample shade;
may my heart but praise Your name,
before the evening shadows fade.

Keep me strong, in times of turmoil,
may my path be filled with light;
keep the evil always from me,
watch me safely through the night.

Let my soul reside in gladness,
against discouragement, my foe;
free my soul from worldly *******,
toward the truth, my mind does know.

Grace my ancient days with wonder,
to the holy majesty of You;
guard me from all gross deception,
to the things I see are true.

Be the rock of my salvation,
let me lean upon Your staff;
so that I might dwell in peace,
so I'll never know Your wrath.

Guide me on this awesome journey,
keep my heart from doing wrong;
so that I may know You ever,
to sing my joy to You in song.

Birds chirp at dawn's break,
their varied voices sing;
for the rising of the sun,
for what the day will bring.
Light becomes the norm,
as shadows fast recede;
the fish come to the top,
of waters, where they feed.
The night is all forgotten,
with blessed, restful sleep;
our pulses quicken motion,
our energy begins to seep.
The best of time is morning,
the hope that springs eternal;
that started at our birth gift,
of a being called...maternal.
Made in God's great image,
like the Father and the Son;
to all things, give Him glory,
as our human race is run.

I have an new identity,
I have buried the "old" man;
I am a new creation,
you may not understand.
I look and walk as me,
I even sound the same;
but the carnal man is gone,
and I've myself to blame.
My old self was but flesh;
full of this old worldly sin;
to that I've said good-bye,
cast aside where I have been.
I've taken up the Holy Spirit,
made God,  first in my life;
I got the peace I needed,
nullified the earthly strife.
Gave my burdens up to Jesus,
He's forgiven all of I've done;
now I'm a Christian soldier,
putting Satan on the run.

The problem with time is
there never is enough
things happen all again
things get nice, things get rough.

We repeat mistakes
sometimes we don't learn
we run out of time
we fizzle and we burn.

We die before our time
in a mindless reckless way
with cellphones and the road
and thinking it's okay.

Time corrupts our body
the muscles and the waist
the eyes and ears and legs
often go to waste.

The problem with time is
the clock,  it never ends
we forget where things are
or the e-mails that we send.

The only place to kneel,
is before the coming King;
co-creator of the world,
that makes the heart to sing.

Don't kneel before the flag,
stand up straight and proud;
and when your hear the anthem,
sing out the song...aloud.

That flag is full of freedom.
to those that gave their soul;
for those that can't come back,
to keep our nation whole.

You disrespect the glory,
of the ones that kept us free;
when you refuse to stand,
and rest on one poor knee.

Don't kneel before the flag,
it's a sign you do not care;
it's a sign of your indifference,
to those that truly care.

No love is ever lost,
though thrown about
and often tossed;
it will stay forever
in the heart;
no love is ever gone,
when once again,
there is no song,
to brighten lovers,
now apart.
Memory is fraught
with dreams and nightmares,
with hope and despair,
wondering if one cares;
love is seldom steady or
predictable;
it can cause delusions,
often despicable,
temporary insanity,
inflated vanity,
leading to profanity.
Cursing love is not
the way to end it,
forgiveness  paves the
mode to send it;
absence of the voice,
will often end it.
But, no love is ever over,
the mind cannot forget her
tender shoulder,
the one you used to lean upon;
never is forgotten,
once it's gone.

FLASH: BREAKING NEWS! The President of the United States Has Just Been Declared Insane! This is from unreliable sources positioned as protesters outside the White House east lawn section. Details forthcoming as they occur.
Now back to our regular newscast...
In Chicago today, there was a new record set for murders on any given single day. The old record was...17. Today's total (so far) is at 18. (only time will tell if that will increase to a greater sizable amount)
Thanks for joining us tonight. My name is Mary Macabre.

The dawn is filled with warmth and promise,
I awake to Jax, bounding on the bed;
better than the dream that I was having,
that I was drowning in my car instead.
How strange the nightmares that we have,
they seem so real....uncomprehending;
we wake, relieved to find ourselves alive,
relieved to realize the dream was ending.
Thank goodness, the dreams are not so bad,
most of my dreams are of a better kind;
they don't disturb or rattle me,
they help me,  in actuality,  to unwind.
Have you ever dreamt that you were floating?
astral projection, I believe the saying goes;
out of the body, connected to a silver cord,
you are there above, but no one knows.
Maybe I am thinking of a death encounter,
they think your gone, but you are not;
either way, you've left the physical realm,
you feel you must go back, before your caught.
I hope I never have that stupid dream again,
the one where I suspected I was drowning;
it was too real-life like for little me,
it's quite enough for me to wake up frowning.

Sixty-two degrees at six a.m.,
to the east, the sun a molten ball;
the shadows long and dark,
shady, black and tall.

The trail is rocky,  dirt-filled,
waiting for our tramping feet;
the dogs, anxious, restless,
quick and limber,   fleet.

Two vagabonds just wandering,
breaking dawn's sweet rest;
with exercise and quiet thoughts,
in the arid, cloudless west.

Sharing little conversation,
enveloped by silent dreams;
we passed the cottonwoods,
across hot, dried-up streams.

Early morning  walks are best,
with eager, fellow beings;
blessed by great companionship,
and the earth that we are seeing.

I welcome the night with its quiet
sounds of the rude world, deceased;
the silence is somber, inviting
my comfort level's increased.

The twilight is pulling up covers
I find a pillow, I rest my head;
in a few hours,  or sooner
my pillow will find its own bed.

I'm glued to the tube with a ballgame
my team is down by one run;
whether they win isn't important
it's the play of the game that is fun.

The room is darkened with shadows
one lamp's  sufficient for glow;
I get engrossed in the game
and follow its leisurely flow.

I welcome the night with it's quiet
cast aside, the gist of the day;
and rest in utopian fashion
as snares of the day slip away.

Please...leave us the hell alone!
we don't want democracy;
take away your so-called pride,
and your,  morality!
You claim to be a Christian,
but God's not in your schools;
you cannot say a public prayer,
the state, not church, it rules!
You say we are intolerant,
of what we will accept;
but we don't share your values,
(some secrets are best kept!)
What matters to you most?
we tend to say...it's money;
you claim that we are "backward,"
you think our ways are "funny."
But our God is not mocked,
the wages of sin...it's death;
so keep your "morals" to yourself,
and your lying, stinking, breath!

Heat comes, but for awhile,
the evening makes me smile;
light melts away, as shadow creep,
coolness comes, twilight seeps.
Days grow longer, spring is fading,
summer's close, I think of wading;
better yet, fully immersed, floating,
as some are fishing, others, boating.
I come back and clear my head,
mustn't jump too far ahead;
spring still has two months to go,
though it takes time, it isn't slow.
Twilight gives my heart some peace,
when the din of traffic's ceased;
when the quiet comes around,
when the soul's sweet grace is found.
I was on the porch, just reading,
books oft times are what I'm needing;
when the afternoon's receding,
when the nightly news quits bleeding.

I washed my sins down by the river
cast them on rocks, baked by the sun
the Holy Spirit came into my soul
proof that my old life was done.
I repented and was found worthy
all the past was gently wiped away
all the old was buried very deeply
once I found and walked his Way.
Darkness faded from my vision
replaced there by a god-like light
it was then I knew, I need not fear
the coming days and coming nights.
I gave my burdens up to Him on high
the excess baggage faded from my view
I found the truth that set me free
from all the earthly things that I once knew.
I washed my sins down by the river
the blood of Christ did all the rest
I stood tall, before my Savoir
knowing I had passed the test.

I will wait for you -
in any kind of weather;
in the coldness or the heat,
as long as we're together.

I'll stand by your side,
through good times or the bad;
forgiving all the hurts,
or things that made us sad.

I offer up my sunshine -
to brighten up your day;
I offer up my kisses,
in hopes that you will stay.

I give to you unfiltered love -
to do with what you will;
my hand to hold, as we climb,
the up's of daily hills.

Never will I leave you -
you can always count on me;
you're my undying partner,
until eternity.

Unless the Lord,
builds the house,
then... in time,
it will not stand;
men build houses,
like they way want to,
according to their plan.

But, is their house a home?
is God included, there?
is love a pillar of it?
the sort that they can share?

Time erodes most things,
so fades away, the rose;
gone to fading memories,
man thinks, but our God knows.

A house is temporary,
and if divided, soon will fall,
like dreams that flee in thought,
like it was never there at all.

Is it built upon the Rock?
how strong are the foundations?
will it withstand all weather?
will it go, like shaky nations?

Will it exist in future times?
and not fall by the way?
Unless the Lord,
He builds the house;
we ask, receive and pray.

Who is the man who looks back at me?
the image that I see?
I look a little closer, ***, that's me!
My hair is receding quickly,
there's a bald spot up on top;
at my age, I can't grow a new crop.
The eyes take a while to get brighter -
the small goatee is gray or it's white;
there's a haggard look at dawn,
depending upon the light.
I rise from my bed with slowness,
sit on the side for a bit;
behind the window's curtain,
the morning's becoming lit.
I walk with a cane and a flashlight,
in the bathroom I hit the switch;
the light is suddenly brighter,
my God- old life's a *****.
It takes me some time to get going,
two cups of coffee drunk slow;
I stretch out my legs at the sink,
by God now, I'm ready to go.
I grab Jax's leash from the wall,
he's prancing and all ready to go;
I grab my hat and sunglasses,
we exit -  and go with the flow.

Good morning Lord
the coffee's hot and ready
I sip it slowly, savoring -
though yet my hands aren't steady;
the darkness lifts as dawn arrives
light hovers on the hills
I read two chapters of Your word
then take my daily pills;
one for heart, one for bones
one for plain good measure
(the vitamin B12) and lastly
two for my blood pressure;
A second cup of morning joe
suits my mind just fine
here, in my pajamas
the sun begins to shine;
Jax nudges me, as if to say
are you ready for our walk?
Soon as I get dressed I say
(that ends our little talk)
Thank you for this morning Lord
for another day of living
for the sins You wash away
by Your mercy and forgiving.

Never though I'd be a poet,
but then the words just came;
some you can't obscure,
there a like a burning flame.
Soon, you've lost control,
so you've got to let them come;
or they interfere with life;
till you've become undone.
Till your a ragged mess,
that walks and talks and sleeps;
but you don't own a soul,
you just sit around and seep.
With poetry I found my soul,
now I give it my best voice;
not because it matters,
but because I have no choice.
I don't relish being soulless,
I'm in need of God, like you;
perhaps you do not notice,
but you will, before you're through.

I am done with my addictions,
the smoking and the drinking;
the "running"  after women,
what was it I was thinking?

Truth is, I wasn't thinking,
and so, I rolled in sin;
with no thought of tomorrow,
or places I had been.

I was young and ignorant,
couldn't see the road ahead;
couldn't find my way back home,
and I got lost instead.

Was it me or was it Spirit,
that turned my life around?
that shed the evil doings,
that made my body sound?

Like to think it was the hand,
unseen,  but strongly felt;
that softened up the toughness,
that made my anger, melt.

'Twas the genesis of faith,
the steps I took toward Him;
that freed me from my past,
and took away the sin.

Is this what love is like?
asleep with just a smile?
pleasant dreams abound,
and you with me awhile
Is this what love's about?
the sun on fire each dawn?
the peaceful flow of life,
like the river, rolling on?
Like a rainbow tinted sky,
like music always heard;
with kisses on the air,
and there's no spoken word.
Where you comfort me,
with just a simple touch;
when the night is long,
and in your arms I clutch.
This is what my love is like,
as I take the lover's role;
when just a glance from you,
makes my mind and body whole.

Once you were here,
then you were gone;
forgotten me, me too,
you laughed and moved on.

I died in your sleep,
you died in mine;
what the hell darling
the past  was once fine.

This is a memory poem
written in a hurried manner;
could have been better my friend,
but I was never a planner.

Love lost is always tragic,
nice, sweet, sad, funny and blue;
scattered feelings, shattered dreams,
upset by things we never knew.

I'll forget you in a while,
love's not easily  won or lost;
but we always pay a price,
and always it's too much a cost.

Stuff I don't know  names of
pass by my line of sight;
as opposed to concrete thoughts
that I know as black and white.

But the land still has its charm
as I walk along the trail;
and gaze out on the plains
where much beauty still prevails.

It's not just what you know that counts
but how you view your world;
how you count your blessings
as it all unfurls.

A walk is just the thing
that your mind can savor;
when life is passing by
without much taste or flavor.

So, the stuff that I don't know
in the end, it does not matter;
it's lost upon the wind,
like empty, useless chatter.

TV warps my mind,
with its crazy violence;
there's little there to find,
I'd rather have the silence.

I'd rather read a good book,
than to watch the tube;
take a walk and just look,
TV's too **** rude.

Listen to good music,
and better, sing along;
TV's too **** slick,
I'd rather hear a song.

TV's  just disease,
mindless, ugly pleasure;
it's ******, slimy, ******,
nothing there to treasure.

TV warps my mind,
it's addictive and insane;
I've better things to find,
to see and feed my brain.

When I have finished climbing up the ridge
to some secluded green and leafy knoll
where the view is often grand and splendid
then I can say, it's well, within my soul.
When I have reached the summit of success
and realized the elusive, treasured goal
then I'll bask in joy and satisfaction
for it's well, so very well, within my soul.
When I ask myself, the silent question,
for whom and what the bell does softly toll
I think of the captain of my salvation
and it's well, so very well, within my soul.
When I know, that without Him, I am lost
when I know, it's Him, that makes me whole
then there's peace, that passes understanding
and it is well, so well, within my soul.
When I see waves that kiss the distant shore
the white-tipped water on its constant roll
then I have a view of heaven's glory
then all is well, so well, within my soul.

Honor our great God
give your burdens up to Him
fill your soul with love
empty it of sin;
Peace will rule your heart
it surpasses understanding
follow His great truth
let Him do your planning;
Forgive yourself and others
with what you have, be glad
keep your tongue from anger
it's senseless being mad;
Rid your life of turmoil
keep on an even keel
it's what you give to others
that fosters God's appeal;
This world is not His world
rebellion, lust and greed
only hurts the body
and that's not what you need.

It's here already
one long day of sunrise and sunset
time knows no division
the very end     -      is not yet

Perhaps it will not come
but ours , it will be certain
you can be sure of that
we'll close that final curtain

So eat and drink my poet friends
be content and be merry
love and live and laugh
our life will not tarry.
our life will never tarry.

Father, I know them not
whose feet are quick to run
to plot heir evil deeds
such people are to shun.
Those who break God's law
as if it was not there
those who follow others
like them, they do not care.
Father, I know them not
that speak of hate and anger
curse the color of one's skin
they only harbor danger.
They want to shout and yell
to harm the peaceful soul
they never stop to think
what really makes them whole.
Father, I know them not
they scoff at God and love
laugh at law and order
and warnings from above.

The morning's shot,
I haven't done a thing;
I loaf and do nothing,
my phone, it doesn't ring.

I read and watch t.v.,
the newspaper lies dormant;
unread, too much bad news,
******, **** - a constant torment.

I eat without much relish,
it's just to feed my face;
I'm vegetating hours,
without an even pace.

Four days of beard growth,
the stubble suits me fine;
I lounge in tattered clothes,
perhaps you know the kind.

The afternoon wears on,
I haven't done a thing;
I wait with blasé feelings,
for what the night may bring.

Death of a friendship is
like the loss of love
it does mot matter what type.

If we could cry, like women.
we  might be better off;
if we had the sensitivity,
instead, we'd rather scoff.

Macho pride goes quickly south,
fighting does not solve things;
there's always someone bigger,
faster - in what another foe brings.

Honey gets - what anger doesn't,
a compromise,   and peace;
wrath just clouds the issues,
the fighting does not cease.

Masculinity, is vastly over-rated,
the tree that bends stays well;
don't give way to power,
that creates a living hell.

If we could shed some tears,
are we any less a man?
I think were better for it,
let us try to understand.

Climbing hills is my pleasant pastime,
one with nature, one with sky and sea;
meditation on the wings of solitude,
is but little, but quite enough, for me.
Raindrops falling, pose no problem,
it's a reprieve, from all the drought;
I lift up my face to catch the drops,
there's life in rain, I have little doubt.
For today,  it's just a wayward cloud,
but it leaves me feeling nice and fresh;
above me, the darkness moves away,
going to the mountaintop, to mesh.
Far below, the shadows start to gather,
the sun recedes, becomes a molten ball;
in the distance, there's a purple curtain,
as once again, the rain begins to fall.
There is silence, sweet as the sunshine,
that in this special place,  is found;
I turn,  and head back to the world,
resistant and reluctant, to go down.

The spirit of man is war
the spirit of God is peace
man's wars continue
in God's world, they cease...

The spirit of man is pride
the spirit of God is humble
pride is the curse of man
in God's world, it crumbles...

The spirit of man is hateful
God's spirit is that of Love
man's world is the earth
God's world is above...

The spirit of man is lies
the spirit of God is truth
man's ways are evil
God's way are couth...

The spirit of man knows failure
the spirit of God, does not
man's education is nothing
unless, by God he's been taught.

1959, I thumbed my way to Utah,
froze my **** at Marble Falls;
in the frigid night, so cold,
I think I froze my *****.

Didn't get much sleep at all,
I tossed and turned, all chilled;
my initial hitch-hike in the west,
I certainly wasn't thrilled.

Mind if I smoke I asked the gent,
Yes,  he said, I do;
six hours later, he dropped me off,
shoulda seen the smoke I blew!

I think Utah is for Mormons,
like Brigham Young and such;
can't smoke, can't drink coffee,
can't do too little or too much.

I hit Las Vegas proper,
as I was hitchin' back;
at midnight, on Fremont St.,
it was anything but black.

It was daylight -  but,
I never saw the sun;
folks were gallivanting -
looked like they were having fun.

I continued on, to Phoenix,
to where the heat was fine;
stayed far away from Marble Falls,
for a lengthy, longish time.

With faith, I keep the Sabbath Day
to honor Him, I kneel to pray
giving thanks, for all He's done
from each setting and rising of the sun.

His blessings are too numerous to name
He gives eternal life instead of fame
His holy days I'll keep and cherish
for if we keep His truth we will not perish.

His commandments keep our body strong
gives us the power of His mighty song
gives peace to the heart and soul
keeping our minds on track and whole.

Follow His ways to the path of living
not by all the getting, but the giving
love's the mainstream of His being
without it, we aren't really seeing.

With faith, I keep all hope alive
with God, it's all I need to thrive
I know He's the answer that I need
and on His Word alone... I feed.