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Janet Doyle May 2020
The gentle wind disrupts the grass,
Swaying flowers, let it pass,
Wind whispers through the trees,
Teasing summer, with a breeze,
Telling us, life doesn’t last,
Live it now! And rushes past,
The wind roars to bring the storm,
Then it changes, cool and warm,
Spring’s wind will be gone soon,
Round the world and to the moon,
Find yourself, within the song,
Spread your wings and go along,

JDoyle
Janet Doyle May 2020
The day is over
Night is arriving to soon
To last forever

JDoyle
Janet Doyle May 2020
Mother births us, wishes well,
Father carries us through hell,
Sets us down to hear a tale,
Of what is best to do,

Mother rations, not to much,
Father gives a guiding touch,
Sparingly, he’ll use a crutch,
You must rely on you,

Mother kisses us goodnight,
Father sets the dark alight,
Let’s us know that all is right,
And it begins anew.

JDoyle
Janet Doyle May 2020
Time continues just the same,
As always it has done,
A different person, a different name,
Under the same sun,
Countries rise and then they fall,
The Earth allies to none,
But gives its bounty to them all,
Nurturing each one,
All will heed our mothers call,
When it’s our time we’ll know,
If we cannot stand, suffice to crawl,
To life or death we go,
The moon remains as it’s been set,
Changing life just so,
Though each of us, one chance we get,
The same as long ago,
As the ocean changes where it’s wet,
And mountains rise anew,
To some a gift, to some a threat,
The many come from the few,
As it has been, before we came,
And what it will still do,
It’s not supposed to stay the same,
But life, it will continue,

JDoyle
Janet Doyle May 2020
How often now, does emptiness
consume me,
Traded here and there for stoic pain,
Desperation rising up, as hope
eludes me,
As the tears of sorrow fall like rain,
Mockery that irritates and just
disgusts me,
Always someone bleating the refrain,
I’m trapped amongst a people that
confound me,
Not enough to hear myself complain,
My uselessness demeans and so
frustrates me,
My hands worthy of so much disdain,

JDoyle
Janet Doyle May 2020
We dance around the fire,
Dodging to and fro,
I chase you then you chase me,
Round and round we go,
Janet Doyle May 2020
I should be getting old,
My youth long in the past,
Instead I’m getting bold,
Breaking the used cast,
Creating my own mold,
Seeing the contrast,
Of what I have been told,
And questions I have asked,
My working hands they hold,
Treasures rare and vast,
My troubles turn to gold,
Life’s fortune I’ve amassed,
Young beauty gladly sold,
For freedom bought at last.

JDoyle
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