Where Were You?

Where Were You?

Where Were You Where were you when Kennedy died? Can you remember when the shot got fired? I was a kid just six years old. But I remember, I remember Oswald. I remember the place, I remember the time, I remember something was lost. Where were you when Elvis left? The king is dead the radio said. I was twenty-one and newly wed. But I remember. The King is dead. I remember the place, I remember the time, I remember something was lost. Why do I remember, Death and tragedy? Why do I remember, These days so clearly? Where were you when John got shot? Shot by a fan, imagine

The Journey

The Journey

A little bit of long forgotten poetry today. Dug out from the past. The Journey I have wandered through my life, Felt the pain of fear and strife, And had tragedies as everybody does. Some times of love and bliss, And at times with one to kiss, But the feeling, of an emptiness, never goes. At times, the bottle was a crutch, Did it help the pain? Not much, But, it numbed the parts of me that hurt. The loss of time together, with my children, Was an extra heavy burden, To numb that pain, nothing seemed to work. To run from any pain, Seemed the answer, but again, The

The Wonderful Certainty of Death

The Wonderful Certainty of Death

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

The Beautiful Bird

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