Life is good! Life is inspirational!

My Boy

Dedicated to my son on his 18th birthday.

My boy!  Now all grown to a man
An icon to the rest
A man who always works so hard
And always does his best
A man who’s learnt to carry on
When all else may just fall
A man that holds his head up high
And stands up straight and tall

Content in knowing his true worth
Determined to achieve
To go that little bit further
And yet through live has weaved
Compassion, care; integrity
That seeks as much as finds
A man who’s turning 18 now
Has fortitude of mind

And so my wish for my grown boy
Is honour truth but more
To walk a path responsibly
With love; respect ensure
And go forth into adulthood
Equipped to serve and live
A citizen of world order
That takes less than he gives

The Lace Lady

The lace lady adorns the wayside
With her bobbins weaving;
Crossing and twisting thread
Into the hedgerow
Ornamental filigree trimmings
Resplendent in their purity
Ahead their green stalks
Swaying in the breeze
As a veiled bride
Ready for her wedding

  

Ginz:

This chap is a fantastic poet. Please read this that he wrote today :)

Originally posted on Graeme Sandford:

image

It is indeed an early poet
that catches the dawn
And just a jealous type
That pours corn
Upon the head of one
Whose feet are seeking the paths
Of writeousness.

View original

What hour is this? So early!
A ruse to get me up
To think I am a Lark of sorts
That drinks from sunrise cup

That wakes me from the dreams I’ve had
That bids me see the day
Yet I for one am quite content
To hibernate away

And stay under the bed clothes
Snuggle in duvet’s plume
Desperate to grab those extra Zeds
Though bells ring through the room

For with the clash of hammers
That buzz from my alarm
The day bursts forth with fortitude
And loses any charm!

Age – a state of mind
To be embraced for sure
Reflecting who we really are
In mind and heart and more
That frees the soul, enlightens
Into maturity
Though let us not forget that we’re
Young in eternity

Cats eyes gleaming in the night
Like beacons;
Bright palates of mystery
Beaming out of the umbra
Reflecting the moon’s silvered light
Seeking, preying, spying
Ready to elicit nocturnal energy
To stalk and to hunt
Under the cover of darkness
Until the sun rises
And those eyes close
Lost in a furry visage
That lies curled up
Asleep
At rest for another day

Cat

What is Justice?

Is justice but a construct
Or a perspective?
A ruling maybe in the face of naivety
Or the foundation stone of truth?
Is it built on the footings of wealth
That damn the poor
Or still offer a bedrock of fairness
In a prejudicial world?
What is justice
Is it good, bad or indifferent?
Does it reside in impartiality?
Not anymore!

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