20:10 Jan 29 2007
Times Read: 768
Ah yes, the 'green and pleasant land'.
I have strung my bow- wish you that I take aim towards your heart?
For were I to let fly my arrow with unerring truth, might not it strike you down, as a beast might be felled in the hunt?
Are you to show your bravado, with a charismatic display, from which to falsey claim victory?
If you should, then let me know- should I let this arrow fly?
00:25 Jan 01 2007
Times Read: 798
Joy is in the eye,
We see for every child,
Every day and every night,
On the TV,
Shining- so bright.
Costly is our precious gift,
A hole it burns,
Pockets aflame,
Not forgetting the emptiness,
Once we come to realise- gluttonous shame.
Where we pass over,
Through the darkest eve,
We come to the special one,
That of our delight,
And sleepless masses,
Waiting eager- for the chill morning light.
And what is to be had in such a dawn?
When all that counts is the tag adorned,
The best of the best,
A competition among yards and schools- kids with it all,
Make those with less,
Seem only as fools.
Yet meaning survives,
In the hearts with love,
For the thought of the why- and for whom,
And at last we celebrate- for the years ending,
Cheers, for the countdown which looms.
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