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LAND OF SAND

Wheels of fortune
Sing your cheeky tune.

Life is a man
Dancing all he can.

Loose as sand,
Lord of all the land.

In all this fuss
You wonder what he has.

FRIEND OF FOE

After taking stock of our relationships
And how we all manage to practice them,
With the thorough scan of stewardships
Serving or waiting on this our system.

I come to the stunningly true conclusion
That there is always a thin line between
A foe or a friend in this summation
And it is there for all to loose or win.

It is as thin as is the common thread
Or as is any selfish or selfless whim
That guides man’s search for bread
Or his thoughts, his actions or him.

WORDS

O moody this moon,
Shows feelings soon.
Grown off wild oaths,
Filled with only doubts.

Words we will forget,
Said with hopes wet.
Their off springs return
Dry in memories’ sun.

Lost in mazes true,
Laid like brains do.
Words say its much,
Twisted to do such.

SKY

Soul of this globe,
Never will it elope.
It’s thought its own,
Roaming in its fun.

Pale or dark as ever,
Woolly chilly shiver.
Diamonded precious
So actively conscious.

Wrapped loose cloth,
Securing the whole lot.
Plenty does here rest
As willed by our best.

ANGRY

Yearning not out loud,
Judgment does complain.
The verdict is yet proud,
Its picture coloured in pain.

Wisdom suddenly goes up,
Patience flew its balloon.
Decision flirts with hope,
But it’s still so much alone.

Restrain the wild stallion,
With a branding hand about.
Hurts enough to melt iron;
As penned up heat cries out.

Tomorrow returns somehow,
Mindful of its joyous winning.
And consequences whistle now,
So it all sits to wait for morning.

LITTLE, LITTLE ANT

O little, little, tiny ant;
Do you wonder who I am,
Standing big moving plant,
Always about to do you harm.

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