I met an Irishman on the road one day
His hat made of black leather and coat of brightest grey.
He wore an honest smile so I joined him on his stroll
He spoke of his travels and stories he seldom told
Our Lessons Our Path!
We are all but the few the chosen…
The selected few from the Land of the Meadow;
Our Home of solitude and of pride.
We are … in the vines that we grow in
Lifes New Leaves
We are born, find ourselves
question the existence of man
and then we die.
Surely there's more, eternal truth
Softness & Time
Heaven plainly smiled upon you
in the torrents of earthly rain.
Being the beauty that fills my eye,
a warmth by the mention of you name.
For the one who has stolen all the roses out the garden of my heart;
And if a sentimental, foolish poet could turn roses to rhymes,
here’s a few more to take his part.
Memories Of Midnight
When midnight sleeps
and the door of heaven opens wide;
often do you wake
trying to peek a look inside