The Emerald City
Tales of long ago, many a tall story told
When the people spoke so vibrantly bold
Whispers of treasures of emeralds and gold
Hidden away, lost, a kings ransom to behold
Far away, somewhere lost in a dense jungle land
Guarded by a lost, ghostly, savage warrior band
Prepared for a millennium to defend, fight and stand
Silent swift death comes from ancient weapons in hand
Pathway to riches, a treacherous one
For all the emeralds and gold to be won
Will be the spoils to some fortune son
Perhaps a kings ransom, share for none
Countless perils awaits for any bold, foolhardy man
Many fallen lost souls of some obscure absent clan
In all the fickle lost schemes of many a forfeited plan
For there will never be a road to riches for any man
Long ago, daring tales of a lost Emerald City, so I’m told
Speaking of the riches to this very day, treasures so bold
To the gullible, still being sold by the alluring lies of lost gold
Somewhere lost forevermore, in the desires for all to behold
beautiful.. is the scintillating view that greets a misty morn,
rising sun, echoes in the haze of a cold night
every hair on my arm rises to this stunning view,
awakening every sense to alarming heights.
the start of a summer day, the intense heat will burn away the mist
heralding a sunshine day with a golden glow.
totally obliterating the Mountains of Mourne
astounding all who view this splendour, a
kings ransom couldn't buy this vision.
I look with guarded thoughts
nothing left to imagination lifting my trusty camera, confining
grand view to print ... reminder, when memories fail,
penned on 8 March 2016.
ISMS
Fear uncertainty and doubt always
Feign the greatest of clout
At times overwhelming and gregarious in stride
Seemingly vanquishes any semblance of pride
But from the ashes like a Phoenix we rise
Owning our faults so we can let them die
Standing tall looking at each other
Yea you are my sister and my brother
The dark force will always genuflect
At the alter of true sincere respect
Cast off the isms that strike a long shadow
Orient your sun so darkness is rendered fallow
And from the ashes like a Phoenix we fly
To the weaker souls not turning a blind eye
The kings ransom, the treasure trove
All to be had when hate is outgrown
You’re isms do nothing to others but fractionate
When the moral approach is to homogenate
To languish in denial and choose to forestall
Is to precipitate Americas last curtain call
And from the ashes like a Phoenix we rise
Righteously bent, all-embracing the sunrise
Deliverance is there for all to see
Embracing the truth is the way to be free
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