Crossing the borders in search of Greener pasteurs.
Where death and chaos ruled the lands ensuring that only the connected survives
In search of a place where one can find peace and happiness
Establish myself to be the winner I'm supposed to be
Breaking boundaries that stood firm for ages
Running with oppertunities needed to be the go getter that I am
Entering a place where one's talent and hard work gets rewarded.
Using my skills to build a empire to show the world you can be a winner
Benefiting from my intellect to create a wold of comfort and stability for myself
Establish myself to be the winner I'm supposed to be
Breaking boundaries that stood firm for ages
Running with oppertunities needed to be the go getter that I am
Hard work and perseverance will be rewarded
Going for gold is my destiny
Rising from the ashes to be a flame
Burning so bright that my heat engulfs the coldest hearts
Establish myself to be the winner I'm supposed to be
Breaking boundaries that stood firm for ages
Running with oppertunities needed to be the go getter that I am
Heaven and earth each plot their will
Upon the stars and grassy wold
Their hands of fate are never still
Writing life stories to be told
Andrew Mountbatten Windsor
A name to make him wince
When he used to be a royal
Once known as the Prince
Does he have due reason
To complain and whine
In America they promote
Old friends of Epstein?
They're sending him to Norfolk
A move he doesn’t really rate
Probably living there rent free
On Bro’s Sandringham Estate.
According to the Beeb
His ex Fergie has to roam
One of the growing number
Of those looking for a home.
Will the sins of the father,
Only alleged of course,
Be visited on his daughters
An ongoing family curse.
The King was an adulterer
Which must give Andrew hope
Since he was recently in Rome
Praying publicly with the Pope.
Over in America existing
On his wit and guile
Harry’s chuffed he chose
To live his voluntary exile
Willie’s back in England
The perfect royal clone
Wondering if he’ll ever
Make it to the throne.
Has the wold turned topsy Turvey
A revolutionary new era of time
When being rich and powerful
Doesn’t grant amnesty from crime
I wish we could all recover the innocence we had as children.
When we found beauty, wonder and magic every day….
before growing up stripped us of our wonder
and took our innocence away….
Imagine if you can…those simpler times…
take a moment and think back…
to when we saw the leaves fall from the trees
and we tried to put them back.
To a time we saw a meadow filled with flowers
and our joy and excitement could not be concealed….
how we dare not pick a single flower
lest we destroy the beauty of the field.
To a time when we watched the honeybees
as they landed among the roses…
when ladybugs rode upon our shoulders
and butterflies landed on our noses.
To a time when faces in the clouds
and touching rainbows cold beguile
when an overnight snowfall surprised us
When one look out our window always made us smile.
It makes me wonder…
if our world wold our world be more compassionate
more loving, less prejudiced, less angry…and less wild
If we could reach down within our hearts
and once again find where we have hidden
the innocence of our child.
Today I’m grateful for the ocean
the way it ebbs and flows…
There is no one who can express this better
than than the oceanographer Jacques Cousteau
(I imagine I wold have written these words
if I was a bit more clever)
The sea, once it casts its spell
holds one in it’s net of wonder
forever
Recognition
Being does not exist, it’s a game of the light, but we can live in life
‘No, it’s wrong. You live in your fantasy. A world without you is.
You live only in a mind, that’s not yours, you get intelligence on
From an imaginary place. It does not exist. Undefined instability.’ Said Satan
I can’t feel my life, feel a stream, slow in life, obstacles, winds of soul
‘Your life is mine, a projection from the soul of my life, dear life.’ Said Satan.
‘So, my life doesn’t exist.’ I said. ‘Exist your life. In mine. I am not an illusion.’
Said Satan.
Illusion
Moving world
Passing phenomena
No wold
Where am I?
Answer
Non
I am
Illusion
Why should man destroy Istangene wold, where zombie, s
if they like should colonise it how tomorrow may
it be fooling and manging their still assumptions
for instance?.
Beware of the devil who rents space in your wold. He sits in a pew grinning like a chaleton.
Oh, winged creatures of the sky so high,
In your realm, you soar, you fly.
With grace and beauty, you paint the air,
In every flutter, a tale to share.
From the robin's song at break of dawn,
To the eagle's cry above the lawn.
Each feathered friend, a symbol of grace,
In every flight, a sacred space.
Confident in your majestic flight,
Through winds and storms, you take your plight.
Unfettered by the chains of fear,
You glide above, your message clear.
Free from the shackles of colonization's hold,
In every forest, valley, and wold.
Your melodies ring, pure and true,
A testament to freedom, old and new.
Believing in the power within,
You rise above, against the din.
Negativity's grasp, you do defy,
With wings of hope, you touch the sky.
Neutral in every situation you face,
With positivity's embrace.
You find solutions, amidst the strife,
Guided by the rhythm of life.
Oh, birds of beauty, birds of might,
In your presence, hearts take flight.
May your songs forever ring,
In the tapestry of life, you'll forever sing.
I was wrapped in autumn's embrace ~ as she shed her withered leaves of lace
her gown was crimson and gold ~ autumn's reverie in meadow and wold*
she travels upon windswept chords ~ in apple orchards and fields of gourds
autumn nights beneath a harvest moon ~ I hear haunting calls of a loon
*hilly region
time travels heavily in rousing screech
to strangle smiles from mind's untold
my waving grimace implored beseech
under shadowed cleft of chalky Wold
where lapping rays of yellowed gloss
and green clings on each blade of grass
to blanket earth in warmth of moss
for breath of steam and bite to pass
but pass is slow as minds there reel
and such the rolling hills show grace
but mountains roll inside I feel
keeping undulating lands from face
my orbit slows and shows refrain
until I circle the sun again
Whenever I was sad…Mom or Dad would sit with me a while…
They’d ask, “What’s the matter son…you seem to have lost your smile?”
We’d talk about how the loss of my smile came to be…
about anything and everything that was upsetting me.
When we were finished I always felt better having bathed in their love and concern
but it wasn’t always easy for my smile to return.
When my parents’ noticed this…a thousand times they must have said to me,
“The beauty of a smile is in its simplicity.”
“We were created with an infinite amount of smiles.” They’d say
“Which means when one leaves our face…there is another smile underneath
eagerly waiting to take its place.”
“It may not be today…or tomorrow but over time,” they said, “you will learn…
usually when you least expect it…your smile will return.”
“Since we have an endless supply,” they’d continue, “Smiles are meant to be shared.”
and not knowing how long until my smile wold return…they’d give me one of theirs.
And I wold wear the gift of their smile…allowing it to shine…
until the day I realized….their smile…had blended into mine.?
The best gift they ever gave their children was to make this solemn pledge:
Whenever their children needed them most…they would join them on the edge.
They wold join them on the edge of fear…and if their courage swayed…
they would whisper softly in their ear, ”It’s okay to be afraid.”
Their children knew it…felt it…from the moment they could crawl…
that their parents not only believed in them…but would be there if they fall.
And when they fell their parents would say,
“Don’t let your dreams…your hopes….your wishes die…
for it is not a tragedy to fall…but it is a tragedy if if you don’t try.
They say the best gifts (and whoever ‘they’ are I think we should believe them)
are the gifts that bless both those who give…as well as those who will receive them.
Standing on the edge of fear
their children were blessed to learn not to let their hopes and dreams and wishes die….
While standing with them on the edge of fear…
their parents …were blessed to watch them fly.
There is so much wisdom at our fingertips these days
that’s been passed down throughout the ages
penned for our edification by wise women and men
by philosophers and sages.
Perusing their different writings in their different languages
causes one to happily proclaim:
In all the words they left behind,
their message is the same.
There before us in a few simple words
they left the key to the art of living.
They wrote of
Love
Compassion
Acceptance.
They wrote of giving
and forgiving.
They left behind these words as a gift for future us
knowing someday we wold read them
and hoping an entire world of people
one day
would, also, heed them
For they knew the words they left behind are only silver
once written down…
once told.
and only when all the people heed them
will they turn from silver into gold.
Many generations have tried their best
the words of the sages to fulfill…
only to fail in their attempt…
hoping the next generation will.
My generation has also failed
but I hold onto the hope…
that I’m still not too old
to see the day when their words of wisdom
written long ago
turn from silver into gold.
to my life you was just right
your my wall
made me stand tall
you stood by my side
nd these or no lies
you or specail too
WHERE WOLD I BE
WITHOUT YOU
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