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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier  7/31/2014 12:32:39 PM
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bSome Die So Others May Live

As I spied this lonely caterpillar
Oh, so juicy, and natural green
Wondering if he ever pondered
Where he fit in the scheme of things
He chewed and continued ravaging
On the defenseless, juicy ripe leaf
Thinking before final consumation
Why was this feast, left here for me?
In a moment of clarity, he accepted
This must in fact, be fate by design
One shall eat, and the other be eaten
Both futures so ordained, in due time
For in time not so distant in future
Both would know fate not gone awry
For one would fall to ancestry
The other a beautiful butterfly
Barry A. Lanier



bSt. Peter's Lie Clock

The man died and went to heaven-
At the Pearly Gates before St. Peter
He saw a hug wall of clocks, and he
asked St. Peter, 'what are they? '
St. Peter answered, 'everyone on earth
has a clock, the hands move every time
they lie.' 'oh', said the man, whose clock
is that? ' That is Mother Teresa's., and the
hands have never moved for she never
told a lie. 'Incredible, ' said the man, and
whose clock is that? ' St. Peter responded,
'that is Abraham Lincoln's clock, the hands
moving only twice for he told only two lies in
his life.' 'Incredible, said the man, do you
have George Bush's clock? ' St. Peter replied,
'It is in Jesus's office, he is using it as a
ceiling fan! '
Barry A. Lanier



bThe Ode Less Traveled

Traveling down the road less traveled
Somehow it just seemed the best
Just an ole'country road
Like most of the rest
Enlightened and yearning
To rest my heavy load
Feathered anticipation
In this road I have chose
Winding round' curves
Thinking of this and that
My cell phone was ringing
Wham! Bam! both my tires went flat
She was tired and was leaving
Thinking things were on the mend
How was I to ever know of this
In love with my only best friend
One thing in life now for certain
Really nothing is for sure
Got out to change both tires
Stepped in a foot of manure
Thinking life's got to get better
Yet it came completely unraveled
Next time around I won't choose
The same road less traveled
Barry A. Lanier



bThe Old Windmill

I see the grain coming
Looking down over the fields
Time to grease down my bearings
And to oil up my wheels

Configure all of my blades
Getting ready to now turn
A northeasternly is blowing
And my passion now burns

Aloft in my fine tower
Wherever winds blow
Coming face to face
As a soldier to his foe

Crushing the barley
The corn and the rye
Till dusk comes calling
No winds in the sky

When the flour is bagged
Full waters in the tank
To return again tomorrow
Impaling winds then to thank

[ On my grandfather's homeplace he had a windmill built in 1919 on the hill with a standing mill attached along with a watertower made of wood shingles to store the families water, over the years the only poem I've ever seen written about these old wind mills is by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow-The Windmill ]
Barry A. Lanier
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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier