Over rocks, thru valleys, abundant streams drift
Touches of sunlight sparkling on the banks
Over years of perpetual flow the pathways enlarges
Territories form, some disperse from the sands that shift
Left alone to be, nature creates and destroys
It has no envy, nor mercy, it survives over mankind
Outlives history and will lay the fundamentals of the future
We will not see what nature has to re align.
Nature is a battalion of forces which governs our life
We cannot control such power, it stalls us at will
Torn and tattered, nature sews its lands.
Categories:
pitney, appreciation, inspirational,
Form: Rhyme
The squeaky wheel of a shopping cart
caught me before the morning dew
a tattered figure pushing the limits of both
collecting his pot of gold called aluminum
Gene Pitney blared from a radio
its battery hanging out, broken antenna
had to be an am station
for one could hear the cb'ers
he was a vietnam vet
a war fought long ago
yet daily within his mind
backfiring cars bringing sweat and fear
shell shocked by the same aluminum he collects
"good morning sir"
may I have the cans in your trash
thoughts of the antique roadshow flash
who am I to "trash" the hopes of others
I grant him permission
like a king hath pity upon humble servants
greedy eyes brighten toward the mother lode of pittance
recycled life is so ironic
using empty cans
to purchase full ones
we all find a way to cope
within our own personal party......
Categories:
pitney, life, people, sad, morning,
Form: Free verse