Writing by Derek Haines

The Wonderful Certainty of Death Death is so easy, so finite and pure, It has its own wonder and simple allure. Would it take seconds to pass through the gate? To eternal peace, far from life’s hate. I would imagine that once I had travelled this course, From a life taught to cherish, there may be remorse. But what would I miss, the pain of each day? Or the constant reminder that I’m just here to pay. Give me your money! The living shout out, Is this all that life is; I say, ”just about.” Money and greed, and anger and spite, Wouldn’t I rather and unending night. The mailbox

The Beautiful Bird Many years ago, I set my eyes on the most Beautiful Bird I had ever seen. She was dazzling in her beauty and song. I was entranced, and from that moment on, I was to devote my life to the wonder of this creature. She was wild, but was caged so tightly, and it was almost impossible to go near her, but over patient months and years, the Beautiful Bird began to trust my devotion. It took so long, but time was of no importance, until the day she would trust my hand in her cage. Her fears, built over many years, were slowing ebbing into a

A Time To Be Me How much of life is ours to make? Do we make our own mistakes? Or do we live to others rules? And work through life with borrowed tools. Do we own our lives we lead? Are we just here to simply breed? And fill our time with useless tasks, Am I the first one who has asked. What is the point meek existence? I plan to put up some resistance. To make a life for some to see, It’s now time, time to be me. I’ve lead a life by all the rules, I now return the borrowed tools. The house, the wife, the kids,

Nymph of the Woods Sitting as I love to do, watching nature fresh and new, Bright new buds of flushing blooms, tiny little red mushrooms, Just the kind that pixies love, and watching birds soar above. Catching all the scents of spring, lost in aimless wondering. The gentle breeze upon my skin, with thoughts of freedom deep within. Gazing at the rays of sun, dancing in the leaves above. I look at what is all around, natures gifts that do abound. Then close my eyes and hear the song, of birds that sing all day long. Relaxed and peaceful, as I rest, I’m lost in nature at its best. I