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Poems on Life (276-292)
A poem about football, that has nothing to do with football, and a whole lot to do with respect. And with Life.
Winning a war, especially one with yourself, can be a monumental, never-ending task. Winning a single battle in that war, however, is something all can hope to attain. And perhaps, in the end, it's all that any can hope to attain.
With sharp, clear memory, complete with hair-raising sound, I recall the eerie and haunting moaning of the wind in the blizzards of my prairie childhood.
If time indeed flows like a river, there are some interesting observations we can make about it. And, perhaps, some Truths we can learn.
The innocence of childhood can't last forever. And what is to take it's place? Ah, therein lies a tale…
This poem about a new-born child is the result of a Special Request made by a visitor.
There are those days when even the perfect people feel invisible.
I believe this poem speaks for itself - a silent cry in the wilderness.
This poem is in answer to a special request from one of our visitors. Cheryl's newborn daughter now has a poem of her very own…
What if Cinderalla lived today? Fairy godmothers seem to be far and few between…
Decisions are a part of life. Some are easy, some are hard, too many are left to default. But all have repercussions.
When it feels as if the burdens of life have become too great to bear, maybe it's time to take a look at the larger picture.
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Poems on Life continued
Life is a constant pursuit of goals and dreams, but some people take that pursuit a bit too seriously.
Perhaps this poem should be in the Love section, but it's more about love in general than about A Love in specific. And Life, after all, is very much about Love, too.
Two poets, one famous and the other perhaps of equal talent though certainly of less reknown, take a hard look at a not uncommon human condition.
I always intended to set this poem to music, but never did. It speaks of a very optimistic time of my life, when I saw things much more simply. I sometimes think I like the "me" of then better.
This is an extremely short poem that reveals the lie inherent in a common truth.
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