On the old train, elders and young ones laid to the ground. It is neither asleep nor they passed away. As the train panted up, the passengers hearts inflating. As the train's engine locomote slower, That is how passengers Hearts beat slower. An old train's driver is sailing the train, and no one knows where to reach. Perhaps the climate is favourable, but the crew members endure to burn coal. The train is still exhausting. and no one again knows where to reach. So the rainy season is approaching, even if the train reach somewhere, no seeds to grow on farmlands
when your soul has kindness life it is worthwhile the kindeness that you give will aways bring a smile something that you give your kindness it is free deep inside of you it will always be
you can help somebody by showing that you care if they need someone you are always there they will sit and listen to what you have to say kindness to somebody goes a long long way
it dosent cost a penny kindness it is free there inside of you where its meant to be
It’s hard to care for a bunch of flowers in a vase Neither here nor there Neither quite dead nor alive Though seemingly full of life And fragrant and beautiful
But it distresses me as they start to wilt Petals fall One by one — all Perhaps it’s better that I get a bouquet of dried flowers instead Muted creams, browns and reds They won’t be as vibrant But flowers yet They’ll dispel winter’s gloom Add colour to my room
They’ll certainly last longer… Ah, if only I were wiser and stronger I could make the most of each moment And enjoy the beauty of flowers and their sweet scent But I guess I am silly To brood over wilting roses, dahlias and that odd lily
It doesn't come with pageantry and pomp. Happiness comes with the soft whirl of the ceiling fan, while I sit and watch the snow fall through the venetian blinds.
It's the end of debauched momentary celebrations of scoring enough change to get a pint of *****, to avoid withdrawals. Dead friends on a street to nowhere.
Happiness comes softly in the jingle, jangle bells on the cat toy, as the kittens play. All around me, living things. African violets and aloe vera plants.
I live for the Zen on the banks of the pond amidst the cattails and willows. Bluegill and small bass swim the shallows.
It's the end of chasing the chaos of attaining things that rot and rust. Happiness comes quietly with a clear conscience and some good coffee, as I sit on furniture that I own and pray for my fellow man.
It comes in the bliss of a hot bath. The spirit is cleansed in love and gratitude.
Check out my book Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems on Amazon.com