So I'm basking in warm sunshine with nostalgic breeze
the honey beside me; and what comes to interfere, thoughts
of where and how I could have been. But then I had to pull myself up...
'Things Could Be Worst' a poem I wrote back in 2004.
AMID THE LUXURY OF NOW It is prelude to spring The honey and I are basking On sun deck, in mid March warm breeze He's reading King James, 'Genesis to Revelation' I sit reading, 'Trick of The Eye' it's captivating. Pine trees rustles in the wind Squirrels I see frolicking I pause for birds singing The innocent voice of a child across fences is welcoming In this military town of revolving doors Even the sound of a barking dog, too, is welcoming. I think to myself, how sad those years I lived half blind I could now bask on veranda, overlooking calm Caribbean waters Or dwell in cemented home on top floor, with panoramic view Overlooking city of antiquity, now tourist town Or own many mansions, furnished, surrounded by trees and sea. Then just like that; warm breeze, with rustling pine Dished nostalgia back to me, I heard: 'Amidst the luxury of now, to by gone buried years you'd bow?' *
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