Best Artchildren Poems
Creation
I touch the hearts of millions
These millions become my children
Such dependent little children they are
Depending upon my heart
To feed them emoitions
For without my guiding thoughts
They would be lifeless
And would surely cease to exist
But not only they do I create
For these beautiful beings most have a home
And thus as a loving creator
I do give them a lush land
Of trees of flowers of mountains and of trees
Watching them thrive wild and free
Yet all is not innocent
For a random land with random people
Would be highly unlikely
So I grant them their jobs
Creating events and towns
Simply giving them life value
And with a flourish of smiles
The final touch is to create a rich plot
Of the likes no one has thus seen
While touching the hearts of millions
These millions become my children
Such dependent little children they are
Depending on my heart
To feed them freedon
I am no poet just clear water reflecting sky
I have no words just wind in me seeking
A place to lie. My songs are echoes of the eye
Of children walking where they fallowed rye
Old rye has strange effects on the intellect
Cooked on fires of history there's no neglect
Of protein and energy for the brain
O but rye in the sun, in the sun, where children
Play, like alcohol a vision stained
Scramble the ladder against the air of heaven.
O I am no poet, nor editor of the word
Winds billow over the sea, and I'm just a bird
O children in the rye, does the hunter comes
I am just a bird where the echo drums.