Cackling old hens-
thinking themselves angles of light-
lay poisonous eggs filled with lies
and gestating hate-
riling against common sense
and the rooster crows at noon.

When I look into the mirror
and gaze upon this ageing face-
it suddenly occurs to me
it’s not the one you might recall,
from a far distant time and place.

But I have a mental image

Time is a thief-
a thief that steals dreams-
then youth-
and finally life.
Time is an enemy-
an enemy that cannot
be appeased-
defeated-
or forestalled-
only sacrificed to.

You can see it in the eyes-
when childhood innocence dies-
walls are built-
to hide the guilt-
when childhood innocence dies.

You can hear it in the lies-
when childhood innocence dies-

Remove Christ from Christmas and all that’s left-
is a meaningless Xmas at the best.
If this is your desire then be my guest-
but why try to impose this on the rest?

To the tune of "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem:

To shepherds watching o'er their flocks
angles appeared on high,
to proclaim the good news, the birth
of our savior is neigh.

In times of trouble and times of sorrow-
beseech we God for a better tomorrow.
And in times of war and in times of strife-
we call upon our brave soldiers to fight.

Little eyes are watching-
watching you night and day-
and little ears always
hear every word you say.

Little hands are eager-
to try every thing you do-
and a little boy dreams-

I will never win a spelling be-
but that’s all rite you sea-
I have this grate spell checker
that came with my PC.
It plainly marks for my revue
any spelling errs for me.

Did our parents not have better things to do-
better things than to suffer our indifference-
our rebellion-
better things to do than return to us love
for hatefulness-
patients for intolerance-

I truly long to find a place-
were the used-to-be, now history,
still exists in time and space.

Where childhood innocence is sublime-
and yester-days again replay-

Do not with children
a contest of wills make-
for this only provokes
them to anger
and is a mistake.

you might prevail
for the moment but
you can not win-
it will just keep happening

The time has passed so swiftly by;
where have the years flown to?
Since I heard your very first cry
and was the first to hold you.

As I look back on childhood days
and then to teenage years-

There is a not so distant sound of drums –
drums echoing in this land –
drums whose rhythm is seductive
who’s resounding beat is socialism-
the camel’s nose is health care.

As summer yields to winter,
so must life yield to death-
that doth end Man's earthly quest-
a sojourner on this spinning earth,
his path-way through from birth
ordained-