The Happiest Car I Ever Saw....

There is a car with such a wide smile
It has worn for mile after mile
And, although it seems to be wide awake,
I think that its big grin is all a fake -
Because, while I looked and I admired,
I saw that it's wheels are always tired.

Remember 9/11

I heard the rushing, roaring sound
Of planes far too close to the ground
I heard awful, terror-struck cries
As people looked up at the skies.
I saw the planes so swiftly glide -
With the stately towers collide.
I saw the towers melt away,
Beneath the very light of day.
I saw the fierce flames leap up high
And heard thousands of voices cry
- then cease.


I see the tears on every face
Of one who lost a friend's embrace
I see a vengeful anger rise
In more than just one pair of eyes.
I see the orphans' sober gaze
Through the black smoke and filthy haze.
I see the husbands mourning wives
And families mourning loss of lives,
And all through out the city now,
I see sorrow on every brow
- sorrow.


I see the grey ashes and dust
And bent metal taken by rust.
I see the graveyard bare and sad
That once in life and joy was clad.
I see my close friends coughing hard,
Their lungs and limbs and bodies marred
By toxins in that deathly air.
Compassion was what brought them there,
To quench the hellish, fearful flame
And to rescue the hurt and lame
- rescue.


And all throughout the coming ages,
One thing rings out on history's pages:
Remember 9/11.



"Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard." (Isaiah 58:8)

The Trees on Campus

 

A clump of trees stood high and tall,

They grew within a grey-stone wall -

A wall made up of buildings old,

Constructed by grey bricks so cold.

Yet happy were the trees in there,

Although they missed the forest air,

For they brought smiles to the face

That admired their stately grace.

The shadow land

Upon the pavement grey,
In the soft light of late day,
I beheld the shadow land.


There is no color there,
And all is so bleakly bare,
Yet it whispers of beauty.


The land has nothing new:
Our world copied in grey-blue
And it lacks all dimension.


Now the trees seem more green,
The sky a prettier scene,
And the world much more lovely:

Because of the shadow land.

A row of three,

(Mahogany?)

Bored folding chairs

That put on airs

As if they were

Much fancier.

On another note, I am needing a new camera; my pictures have been getting grainier and grainier.