Poetry…(rhymes)
Is all I write
Feels like a waste of time
Time that has been kind
(In hindsight –
I’ve always looked behind)
Through all battles fought
Life has cheated
Me of what I once sought.
This thought will pass.
Love is me.
Its grief does not last.
But a violence fills me
I rage against the night
Silently.
Life will continue
to use love’s heart
Despite these poetic lessons
That chronicle
its tearing apart.
Shine down on me, starry night,
Shower your blues and yellows;
Transcend death into your light;
I’ll wait until it all mellows.
Your buildings are cut and dry,
Blue-grey trees keeping them soft,
There’s one great star asking, why
Black brush strokes hold the sky aloft?
Faith falls short in my belief;
Nature becomes the pillars;
Trees big and small give relief
People are silent killers.
Starry night, kindly, be kind
And merge these lines into one;
Leave not a sole stroke behind
Beautify what you’ve begun.
Some robins die in cages,
Though they mean renewal
To the world living outside.
Sometimes they get trapped,
Inside a home and seek escape;
But hit a revolving fan.
The world comes between
Their wings and the open sky.
But they are part of the world
Which has life and can die.
Reason is sung out by faith;
Hope may play its own tune;
For faith prays like the sun,
Hope fluctuates like the moon.
And robins try their best,
But life must have its say!
It may leave them free to nest
Or it itself flies away.
Hearts Still Care 
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