Humanity… a poem

 
Little old Fiddlebrock Simpsonstien
Wondered the streets alone
He was a simple and quiet old man
His features like toppling stone
No one could understand him
When words did escape his lips
While some would laugh and tilt their heads
Others laid hands on hips
With head hung low like the setting sun
Fiddlebrock heads for home
An appliance box with newspaper floor
Keeps him warm from the fresh falling snow
Image result for homeless cardboard homes
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SOMEDAY…

Fawn and White Short-coated Medium-sized Dog Between People in Brown Uniform
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Someday, when I get home
I’ll kiss your lips with unbridled passion

Someday, when I get home
I’ll hold you close and feel your warmth

Someday, when I get home
I’ll whisper, “I love you” into your ear

Someday, when I get home
We’ll take long walks and hold each other’s hands

Someday, when I get home
We’ll fall asleep while watching the stars

Someday, when I get home
You’ll wake to see my smile

Someday, when I get home
We’ll plan our life and our future

Someday, if I get home
I promise I’ll never leave you again

Someday…

CHASING THE HORIZON.. a poem

“I am not now, nor shall I ever be,

Sated with this life of philosophy!”

Those were the last words I thought I would hear

Whispered from the lips of the one I held dear.

Woman Statue
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Then a palpable change settled in the room,

And I wondered aloud, “Could this be our doom?”

And a miracle happened, there before my eyes,

As the body before me started to rise.

Not from some ill-fated ghostly-formed force

No, this was the willingness of quite another source.

Stunned, though I be, as I stood there in wonder,

I couldn’t help but smile at the small clap of thunder.

Thunder, Weather, Storm, Sky, Cloud
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You see, a storm had been raging outside,

As if in this room, where I gazed full of pride.

She then lay back down, content and enlightened.

With her last words she smiled – “I’ll be chasing the horizon!”

Photo of Person Walking on Deserted Island
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