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Gordon Hickman Poem
The Quality Of Mercy
'The quality of mercy is not strained'
wrote the bard of bards in his day
may be he meant it was unrestrained
and the Creator intended it so to stay
Or maybe his meaning was, it's not sifted,
unquantifiable, and justly meted
so that Man was able to be assured indeed
of its swift application when in need.
He could not forsee an electronic land
where pathos and pleasure go hand in hand
where scenes of human suffering at a flash
are superceded by something utterly rash.
Sad to say on this 'progressive train'
the quality of mercy is under strain
tho' whilst many would 'pass on the other side'
many more good souls still show mercy with pride
hicky
Copyright © Gordon Hickman | Year Posted 2010
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Gordon Hickman Poem
LIFE'S REASON?
Where do we figure in the universal scheme of things?
this unanswered question is likely to so remain
we could be so insignificant, our egos would suffer pain
maybe we are caretakers, to preserve beauty in our domain?,
or no role at all may be our lot, along with other Earthly beings.
Does it really matter?...... we're here and that's a fact
it's a wonderful world to enjoy, within life's short span
whatever our role, if any, life's great if we can so make it
given reasonably good health, and strength enough to act.
To stay healthy is our main concern, and that of medical science
great strides in recent decades they've made, keeping us ahead
of viruses and other microorganisms,with aims we all do dread
their speedy mutations a constant threat, boffins combat
in defiance.
It would seem that life wasn't meant to be one smooth breeze,
there had to be adversaries to beat, just as in epic tales of old,
perhaps, when reaching our destinations, we will all be told,
'drink from the Holy Grail my friends, put on your Golden Fleece"
hicky.
Copyright © Gordon Hickman | Year Posted 2011
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Gordon Hickman Poem
Spring is here!!........ its very name, sets our hearts aglow,
all dormant life springs into action, after Winter's icy blow,
the harsher that frosty Season, the more we welcome Spring,
with its rejuvenating vigour, our World begins to sing.
As if passing through a 'Seasonal Gate', there's a secret Eden of pleasure,
suddenly we're surrounded by throbbing life, full of colourful treasure,
gambolling new born lambs, very light upon their feet,
bounding away to test new freedom, but not too far from Mother's bleat!
Crocus, Daffs and Snowdrops clamour for us to view,
Narcissi and Tulips in new Spring robes declare, 'we are in this too'!
a stimulant to young love, and sometimes not so young, this Season is a joy,
for this is how the World's gone round, since Adam was a boy.
Mother Nature has re-awakened, and donned her festive gown,
her glorious Show proclaims to all, she still wears her sparkling crown,
we thank you our dear lady, and, as so many times before,
when your Springtime's come along, you make our spirits SOAR!!.
hicky.
Copyright © Gordon Hickman | Year Posted 2011
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Gordon Hickman Poem
As you climb out of bed, a muscle twinge
lands you writhing on the floor"AAhhkk!!"
getting up, you bang your head on the knob of an open drawer
"OUCHH!" now you know it's not your day, the Devil's on a binge.
At breakfast, if you make it, nothing goes quite right
retrieving the cruet, hot coffee fills your lap with pain
"XXXX-XX!!" you change, but you're too late to catch your train
so you wait for a bus, but not one hails in sight.
You start walking, and your bus comes whizzing past
it takes off at the next stop, as you run to climb aboard
you might as well go back to bed, this day you can't afford
and if it's Friday the 13th, you'd better make it....fast
For when the Devil is on a binge, and gets upon your trail
your whole day goes down the drain
from the minute you become conscious, he'll give you hours of pain
no one escapes this blighter's tricks, when he grabs them by the tail.
hicky
Copyright © Gordon Hickman | Year Posted 2011
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