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Poems On / About LIFE  9/5/2015 11:14:16 AM
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  21.     

Life (Senryu)

Everything we do
Is pointless a life cruel joke
Of our own free will.

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Marieta Maglas

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  22.     

Senryu Risky Business

Hearts are delicate
playing games on a heart string
is risky business.































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Heather Burns

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  23.     

For The Girl Who's Been In Hell

Now the kindly farmer ponders
On the girl who's been in hell.
With loving heart he wonders
How best to bring her back to well

Still then her friend the farmer
Thinks on her - poor damaged thing.
With warm heart, strives to calm her;
By love to mend her broken wing

He upon reflection sees
Her past curtails her future;
Old ghosts are her enemies,
But eyes-front the way is sure.

What better then than that she
Jump once more and touch the sky,
Laugh again as merrily
As once she did in time gone by.







love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love
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sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad sad
girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl girl
 
Terry Dawson

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  24.     

Baboons

Along that wild figs great bough
The dog baboon advances now
With nonchalant pride and easy stride
As only baboons know how.

And in his calm, unhurried quest
He pauses first to take a rest
And have a scratch and then catch
The morning sun as arrive the rest.

He knows that the sun-ripened figs
Are borne on the most slender twigs
And of his troop, the lighter group
Will fare best in those flimsy rigs

Clutching firm to the swaying limb
He gathers ripe fruits close to him.
And at leisurely pace he feeds is face;
All actions are governed by whim.

Presently when he's had his fill,
His nonchalant air is with him still,
With barking voice he takes his choice
Of maiden and works his will.

And in his wild life divine
He leans back in supine recline
And the look that he wears, it boldly declares:
Lo, all that I survey is mine.






life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life life
nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature nature
 
Terry Dawson

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