The Poets Lament

The Poets Lament


What is peace, the poets cried, Is it the end of war?
Is it the will to move aside
When the killer’s at your door?
Is it a day, when all give in
To powers doing harm?
Is it the time when voices cry
Instead of bearing arms?

Peace on earth, are mighty words
Voiced by humbles at their seats
But who defends and makes amends
For goodwill in retreat?
Who stands against and gives himself
To face the mighty beast
When evil walks
With caustic breath
As far as it can reach?

When men become, all wrought with self
Forcing conceit upon each other
Who’s the one to stand up tall
In defense of his own brother?
Who’s the one
Who gives himself
So others may live in peace?
But the man who fights
And gives his life
So others don’t
Taste defeat

Peace on earth, the poets lament
Is a sentimental thought
But peace is gained from those that give
and in the giving, peace is bought
Some sing the songs
that define a game
where action is refused
But standing up
and risking all
Is the life
A savior would choose

To the Witches' House

To the witches’ house we must go
Along the path, no shadows grow
Through mud soaked lands, that few would tread
contemplating the risk ahead

Over there in the nook
Around the tree with the crook
We take the path that leads us straight
Knowing quite well our grisly fate

Devils fog engulfs our way
Are there dangers, who can say?
Tread more softly on this stony trail
All will know if we fail

Look real hard through moss covered trees
See the witch upon her knees
My eyes do fool me it’s a bush
Onward still we must push

It could be morning it could be night
That begets this wooded mystery sight
All I know is we must fetch
The evil women a living wretch

Out there some where she doth lurk
A toothless spook an unholy smirk
Eyes as empty as dark of night
She consumes the innocent in her sight

Along this path of moss and rain
To our mission we must train
Get that witch and in her bed
Detach evils ilk, her thorny head !

In The Beginning

Forged from hope and made from a dream, and developed before there was a time
Beginning as a thought, a belief, a desire to share, all that was yet defined
Carved from a vision and offered to all, a desire to live and the will to crawl
This rock, this sun, this moon above, was cast from shadows to fit like a glove
In the darkness powers that stood, forced upon emptiness things that could
First with matter and then with motion, all things were fashioned by
Deliberate commotion
Stars and moons came forth from power, to fulfill the vision of the lord of the hour
Mixing the batch of life giving force, it allowed the existence of solar discourse
Brewing the essence of all that lives, in a pot full of ideas and thoughts that would give
Sharing the concoction of energy and might, the universe commanded;
“Let there be light”

No separation can be seen, no outline drawn, shows no evidence that the maker is gone
The seamless space, the far stretched hand, the universe is under a spell of command
Speech wasn’t needed to show inspiration, not love of life or willful devotion
But speech we have and eyes to see, for declaring the author his nobility
As space was made and planets formed and stars exploding with light
What we find is, that seeing is limited, as things are seen without sight
From hope and dreams, and willful things, to caring and hope filled compassion
All of this and much much more is a living and breathing formation,
All this is, is what it is, is the flowing of one perfect thought,
showing us all, what the maker is
and nothing that he is not