I Was

playing

I was a boy throwing sticks
The chestnut tree so tall
Hours every day
The prize that would not fall

In driving rain before school
I would try to hit
The autumn’s last prize
Never doubting it

“Conkers” was the game
On a string to split
Oven baked on a string
That final hit

And I remember that
A life so simple and pure
So free in innocence
That life endures

Stoic

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In The Bubble

hubbleonewithgod

Our world is so small
We care for no one else
Such a Narrow focus
As all about us fall

I know what my life means
There was never a doubt
A part of something more
I forget who I have been

To be a single drop of rain
Upon a flower or a child
To be a single smile
Soothing another’s pain

I was never more than this
Born to embrace not avoid
If just one understands
Then I gave the perfect kiss

Stoic.

 

 

 

In The Playground

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Many things may never change
A merry go round year to year
Spun so fast we fall away
In a spinning world of day to day

Scuffles upon the monkey bars
With every year we show the scars
No recess here in this playground
Lessons taught but lies abound

So I will take my ball back home
The game was sometimes fun to play
Bruised and broken I have found
Little fun in this playground

Stoic