Often pulled the Dragon's tail
Through dangers days in life's travail,
Sweet, the taste of risk survived
Whilst cheating Reaper's plot, contrived,
Feeling hot sweat crease the brow
Not understanding... why or how?
Chance, that fickle, flighty touch
May push my luck, that inch too much....
Then knowing well, on that fine day,
I'll meet my bitter end...and pay!

Ha... Wouldn't change a minute of it all,
Love it!!

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ

Suffused through the veiled abstract
Some ride the tail of Satan,
Some shelter in the shadow of God,
Many are diffused in the great indifference of humanity....

But some pluck the jewels of eternity
From the billowing cloud,
To voice substance
And musical inspiration
To the willing, attuned
And receptive ear.

These be the poets in our midst.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ