A Craftsman's Rhapsody
The craftsman's plain glides smoothly past
Leaving trails of golden curls
Releasing from woods hardest heart
A bouquet that fills his world.
The rhythm of each passing stroke
Builds a rhapsody of sound
Beads of sweat fall from his brow
To find comfort on the ground
Muscles flex and then relax
A tiny grunt adds song
Eyes are fixed upon their mark
Avoiding any wrong
Upon the rafters high above
Watching every passing stroke
A sparrow amid soft curls gathered
Joins chorus from its silver throat
A gentle breeze from the open door
Swirls around this peaceful scene
And rolls across the old shed floor
Leaving traces where it's been.
Music Maker
You filled my world with music and let each note cresses me,
gently rocking me into a fantasia of vibration and moods.
Your song held my hand and felt my presents and together
we saw all the vibrant new and glorious colours of eternity,
drifting into oblivion and loosing ourselves in a sea of sound
that caused the universe to quake with feeling.
We rode on every note to where the masters spent their time.
I saw with my ears and felt with my mind,
moods of raindrops and sunshine,
of love and great despair.
Riding the golden violin strings across the heavens
chasing the elusive rainbow.
For you are the Music Maker
the giver of joy and happiness
and for this you will be truly blessed.
Consider yourself a friend.
So friend I thank you............
What have we lost and what have we learned?
What have we lost and what have we learned,
We take all with no thought of tomorrow,
To use and abuse till nothing remains,
The future will to bath in our sorrow.
Give me, Give me, is the cry of the day,
With no worry of value or cost,
It matters not when we are through you may say,
No need to deal with the loss.
The future is no concern of mine,
Is what the people believe,
Consume, Consume, there is plenty of time,
Money is what we'll leave.
But what good is the money and all of the gold
Who'll be here to complain of the theft
When the earth has been plundered, raped and sold
And nothing but nothing is left.
What good is a land when it's salty and sand,
Fauna and Flora so rare to be seen
The wind blows across plains trampled by man
Left barren and bare wherever he's been.
A lesson to learn from our past mistakes,
If we listen to the warnings and set aside greed,
To repair the Earth, may not be too late,
If we think of the future and of nature's need.
From a Chrysalis to a Butterfly
These feelings I have are so new to me,
We take all with no thought of tomorrow,
To use and abuse till nothing remains,
The future will to bath in our sorrow.
Give me, Give me, is the cry of the day,
With no worry of value or cost,
It matters not when we are through you may say,
No need to deal with the loss.
The future is no concern of mine,
Is what the people believe,
Consume, Consume, there is plenty of time,
Money is what we'll leave.
But what good is the money and all of the gold
Who'll be here to complain of the theft
When the earth has been plundered, raped and sold
And nothing but nothing is left.
What good is a land when it's salty and sand,
Fauna and Flora so rare to be seen
The wind blows across plains trampled by man
Left barren and bare wherever he's been.
A lesson to learn from our past mistakes,
If we listen to the warnings and set aside greed,
To repair the Earth, may not be too late,
If we think of the future and of nature's need.
