pi-o-let
pi-o-us
pi-o-neer
(+) pi-O-2pir
---------------
for pie....oooOH-let us near....two pie are!
There's always time enough,
but never enough time.
What do I do no matter the cost
What is the value of the time I've lost ?
Time is not a thing to waste
As I've clearly come to face
I do some things and then some more,
But neer keep up the pace.
Let me fill this space that I call time
With Nobel deeds of grand design
Small or large maybe sublime,
But surely not a waste of time.
The most precious thing in life seems clear
It's lost time not possessions that I most fear.
So now I plan to manage mine
And pray it's not a waste of time
Do the May days roll into one long bank holiday?
The linearity of time banishing winter blues away
Sunscreen, icecream, flip flops, shades out
As they say until Mays over we should neer cast a clout
Should we listen to proverbs as old as the hills?
Or pretend this is Summer? Go out seeking thrills
June stops by, the only month with 3 birthstones
As our title dictates, how air sign spun
Mercurial, subject to sudden or unpredictable changes?
Unlike the May/ June weather, geminis exchanges
64 degrees F upon average in London, U.K
Forget Me Nots, sure influx
Annual Mysotosis Stricta, 1 year growing cycle
Otherwise known as Scorpion grasses, have muscle
These plants symbolise true love, true blue
Too, you I'm thinking of, make love new.
'k kyk neer rivier
wat kronk'lend paaie baan
in dalle vloer
afgemat en steeds geboè
poele plas en blitsend 'kaats
drenkend dans palmiete gras
soos manne kras in kroee
dalk net dromend was
my refleksie in jou oè
Iris geruit as wimpers sluit
was binne-in my hart getoor
en bloedriviere in ons are bruis
vuurspuwend ons in lawa doop
die magma braak in kers se was
dog rooiend en bloedend soos ons passie was
eiland swart en eenkant ek
omring atol n trane oseaan
wat reent verkoeld tektonies bars
in woorde was so onbedoeld
was dit gans so ongehoord
Helaas!! KEER DIT VOOR!
..en eggo steeds nog minder so
Fools Gold
Dreaming of a precious gold
That I had never seen
I met you and I knew at once
I found the answer to my dream
Resplendent in her golden garb
We shared our feelings at an inn
Then we moved onto the floor
And danced to a rhythmic Beguine
Then to a place that we had sought
To seek and find our sensual tryst
And in the interim we kissed
But time had passed and we had fought
Within the happy interludes
Our love would soon diminish slow
I found you with another beau
A ghostly wraith you had become
neer existing in the flow
of life I knew now I am old
Perhaps I only found Fool’s Gold
Constructed of the finest brass,
polished daily with silken manes of angels,
to gleam brightest of all creation.
For the sun is but a reflection of the light of the Lord
beaming off my bell.
The stars; sparks thrown of forging hammers,
wielded by elders of the host,
while shaping me into being.
Each night, swaddled in plush clouds,
cherubs lay me away to the darkest recesses of the universe.
Still lingering reflection, that is the moon.
When Gabriel cradles me in his powerful, ancient hands
and lifts me to his angelic lips,
forcing through me breath of the whole of the four winds,
all of existence will give pause.
Exalted above all heavenly instruments, I,
the trumpet of trumpets
will on this glorious day for which I was forever groomed,
proudly announce the return of
The King of Kings.
Sounding forth as voice of the All Mighty,
I will joyfully call together the righteous to the throne;
neer to be heard again.
I wawnt ta tel yu sthomthin bowt mee
I has a lithsp an sthomtime I git teesthed
kant sthpel vary goood, thisth ith my phlaw
Sthcool isth fer dumys sesth mye paw
I dosth da lawndrey an da chors
Paw sthays dats justh wat ime phor
Butt I ghot biger planths dan dat
I no paw isth a lyin rat
I sthaved mee dayng neer tin buksths
Awff ta vegasths, wisth mee luk!
when it hot
i sweat a lot
its hard for me to think
so begin to blink
my thrist make be kink
beer soda any thing neer
i do it until am pink
SUMMER AND COLD
DRINKS
Lyrics by Shannon Farlouis Music and Vocals by David Reinstein/Associated Content.com
I work my fingers to the bone,
all day long, all day long.
Then I'll find my way back home.
Something is going to come my way,
Yeah! I will find a way today.
A way for you and me, bring us out of poverty.
These old river blues will neer die.
So, mama don't you cry for me.
Don't cry for me.
I'm leavin' on the Delta Queen.
Gonna roll this river, see what I can see.
Gonna make a way for you and me.
Don't ask why and don't you cry,
these old river blues will never die.
Gonna take my guitar and roll this river long and far.
Gonna bring my harmonica too.
So, when I'm lonely I'll sing the blues.
Got to leave from here today.
Have to make a way.
Roll this river on that Delta Queen.
See as far as I can see.
Bring us out of poverty.
Sing them blues, don't ask why.
These old river blues will never die.
Don't you cry for me mama, don't you cry.
The sweet song they sing longingly awaiting sunrise
OR the drops dripping from the sky
If you listen quietly you may be able to hear the
wind moaning in morn as it wips around the tree tops
Never stop moving as it does
To hear the drops of dew slipping across the great green plains
The leafs lifting in happiness as it catches their first rays
To hear a babe's first cry or the patter on the wood floors
To see the waters whind, curve and glisten
Nature is our natural way of life
Neer the norm as the nothing becomes a something
I sat to pen a remembrance of you,
in poetic subtleties and disguise
I sought to paint a picture you.
But subtleties are no veil
for a pain in the soul inscribed
for a mild discomfort, maybe
but for a friend you, no.
In verse did I seek to consider you, oh poet.
in rhythm and imagery
I sought to tell a story, a story you.
But rhythm neer does in step move
with sobs and muffled wails,
and what imagery attends
hollow eyes gazed upon pain.
For commentaries on faceless statutes maybe
but for my confidant you no.
"Be strong and pen", I steadied faltering arms
"to immortalise a friend in verse" I commanded,
with all the tones and hue of a poem
that of a boast you'd make from the heavens
But a poem neer will
of this poet suffice to tell
for you were first a friend to me
before a poet to the world.
A poem thus cannot tell
of the pain and hurt deeply felt
May be if it was in tears pened
and with sobs punctuated.