The noise is oppressive,
The flashing lights they blind,
Society invasive,
Grabbing at the mind,
“Look at me” they’re shouting,
“This is what to think,”
Propaganda spouting,
“Don’t you even blink,”
They just keep getting nearer,
As the noise becomes a knell,
And the blasphemy gets clearer,
Damning you to hell,
There may be no escaping,
Here in the blackest night,
But it’s your spirit they’ll be ******,
And you can always fight.

JDoyle

Long ago when men were men and women strong and free,
They dared the heights and sang a song and left upon the sea,
When mother Morrigan with bloodied hands predicted what would be,
Now time has passed and days grow short, and freedom wants it’s fee,
I’d use this chance to make her smile if it were up to me,
Of reavers, betrayers, old man, false lawyers, these are plain to see,
As are our lost children, men without valor, nor women’s modesty,
Do we wait for no flowers or food and forests without a tree?
Dare we bow our mother’s head, to fulfill her prophecy?

JDoyle

I walk this ancient hill,
Eons beneath my feet,
So quiet and so still,
It’s here I am complete,
My life the smallest dot,
Upon these mountains grand,
But there is no higher thought,
Than to be part of the land,
And I’ve a moment just to be,
In this endless stream of time,
But I forget I’m me,
As I make another climb,
To ridges that show it’s wonder,
In valleys that hold the prize,
With rivers winding under,
The ever changing skies,
Consuming in it’s splendor,
These mountains that I know,
I’m humbled by the grandeur,
As on and on they go,
And I’m content to wander,
So happy just to roam,
Such beauty to discover,
In my Appalachian home.

JDoyle

I think that I am blessed to see,
This Autumn’s lovely vibrancy,
The yellow, oranges, reds and gold,
Make a grand display of every tree,

And each day I wonder, truth be told,
At the miracle I can behold,
Then evening’s shadow does obscure,
And I’m left with only memories bold,

But in morning’s light I stare quite sure,
At colors brighter than before,
In our Mother Nature’s tapestry,
And I marvel as she weaves us more.

JDoyle

Alone I watch the sunset,
Amidst it’s crimson rays,
There’s something I can learn yet,
In these tumbling of days,
And sister crow is cawing,
But her feathers are too black,
It causes this withdrawing,
And I don’t think I’ll be back,
Cause the path is an illusion,
I don’t know where it leads,
But I know it’s the conclusion,
And what my spirit needs.

JDoyle