Monday 24 June 2013

On Growing Up


As children we sat and played
among the branches and the sticks
and the grass, so green and sharp,
between our fingertips.
From sunrise to sunset
beside the bubbling brook,
we children found treasures
where only children eyes would look.
The old stump log, now hollowed out,
the scary neighbors yard,
the fence that guarded the cow pasture
that told us we’ve gone too far.
The secret pacts we made
to swear our friendship for all time,
like grass into the earth,
our roots can’t come undone.
But summer warmth lasts
only til August comes and goes
and so with falling leaves
our age and height both grow.
New beginnings, some farewells
as grass turns cold and brown,
realizing our childhood
has almost come and gone.
Now far from the barefoot fields
our tiny feet once roamed,
we search of what it qualifies
to build a happy home.
But once we have all we ever
dreamed to be complete,
we forget how to
appreciate the little things.
The sound of rushing water
against rocks runs dry
and the fireflies we caught
have all dimmed their lights.
Time to return to the fields
we once had known.
Let us pack our bags
and make the journey home.


Thursday 6 June 2013

Deliver Us from Evil


Call down from the reigning tower
And tell us mere peasants what to do,
For without an order, a chore or task
The town stands in perplexing attitude.
From dawn til dusk, with windows boarded shut,
As the beggars roam from town to town
And a black shadow lurks, as Death was quick to learn,
There are no rules when the King isn’t around.
For as long as he hides behind the fortress walls
With our country flag raised high,
The kingdom he keeps will not fall at his feet
If he abandons us when dusk turns to night.

Dark sky rises and the moon shows no favor
While from thick wooded forest they crawl
Towards the town unprepared to the dirt paved square,
Where the King’s statue once stood tall.
The red-eyed demons lure us to their gaze
To take the ones who don’t believe.
Hell has no fire like the tongue of the liar
Whom sits with his mother to grieve.

Just as the hope was fading
Out the golden gates stormed he,
With the rage of the heavens behind him
The King urged the demons to leave.
He raised his sword as lightning stuck
But the intruders’ eyes held no fear.
So he warned them well, with a threatening belt,
“You will not take my people from me.”

The ground around us rose as the King's eyes hardened
And his sword cut the demons in pieces.
The towns’ people awed at the power involved
While the color rushed back to our cheeks.
Reunited once again with our leader,
We wept with remorse at his feet.
Laud has the man, who doubted His plan
To come when his people are in need.