THIS LIFE
Life can be so unfair
Sad but still true
Some haven’t a care
Is that true of you?
Who can fathom why
In this world of ours
Some before their time die
Like yesterdays flowers
What is the purpose of
this temporal form
Destined to die,
our loved ones to mourn
Life flashes by slowly
then faster and then
Comes quickly
your three score and ten
But what does it matter
how long you live
If you embrace life
and to others then give
Fair shares of you talents
and precious time too
What you sow will be
generously returned to you.
What a lot of pondering our Robert does do,
His mind does the wandering - as all minds should do.
More, should we think on what we do and why,
Its the wisdom within us - so give it a try…
Yes, I remember the good old days
When things were better in every way
No traffic jams or motor car fumes
Music that actually had a tune
Well , I remember the good old days
Today’s kids would be truly amazed
At just what we do with imagination
With our hands our heads and perspiration
What we lacked in the good old days
We never missed now we throw stuff away
A tree top den, catching tiddlers in the stream
They were happier days, or so it seems
Now we have our old happy days
Surfing the net , constantly amazed
All the time in the world to contemplate
Until we’re called to the Pearly Gates…
I like poetry and I really enjoyed yours Robert. I’m not very good at writing it but I do have a few favourites, some I’ve already posted. I do have another one (hanging on the wall in the hall) that reminds me that humans are a fleeting existence compared to nature itself; it’s a nice reminder not to take us so seriously. I might invade your thread with it
I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern, to bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down, or slip between the ridges
By twenty thorps, a little town, and half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip’s farm I flow to join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go, but I go on forever.
I chatter over stony ways, in little sharps and trebles
I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret by many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set with willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter as I flow to join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go, but I go on forever.
I wind about and in and out, with here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout, and there and there a grayling.
And here and there a foamy flake upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak above the golden gravel.
And draw them all along and flow to join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go, but I go on forever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots that grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeams dance against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars in brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars; I loiter round my cresses.
And out again I curve and flow to join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go, but I go on forever.
by: Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
I learned this at school and, for some reason, it struck a chord and I never forgot it. As I’ve said, it is now framed and hangs on a wall in my hall.
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
Thank you for posting those two poems. They are new to me & I enjoyed reading them
I will be 65 shortly & this seems to be a milestone in my life. I 'm probably 3/4 through my span & am more conscious of the “Fleeting” existence you referred to than ever before.
The years go by how they have flown
I’ve lost so many friends I’ve known
Special friends I will always remember
Though their fire’s gone out bright burns their ember
[CENTER][/CENTER]
‘Tree Hollow’
I am drawn to this tree - As it to me…
Its leaves enclose me - I feel safe
Its boughs embrace me - I feel loved…
And there a hollow, where I sit and ponder…
My tree of wonder…
Pats
Why does life always go forward and not back
wouldn’t it be great if we developed the knack
Of saying “see you yesterday” if you did so choose
That way never a day you’d lose.
Life grinds on mercilessly every day
That’s because time goes only one way
Backwards AND forwards is the only solution
Going forwards will have an ending gruesome
Life goes on tirelessly every day
This is what I’d like to say
Why does gravity pull things down always
There’d be more room if stuff went straight up
You could tie important stuff down in safe ways
You could easily retain just enough
Cups and saucers bowls and plates
Of course at first you’d make mistakes
The stuff would not always be very near
But you’d soon find ways to save it floating up to the [RIGHT][/RIGHT]stratosphere
…Really lovely poem Robert…
Great thought process there…