The Aspiring Bard

Each face a page For me to read The rage Or greed Of human souls That blindly grope For higher goals And hope.

Put the lesser stars In jars, And watch the lanterns fade - Afraid. Grin in that despotic way And stay To watch your subjects fly And die... Kill the lesser stars With jars.

You're searching for a quiet spot To sit, and have a little thought. A place unhaunted by the fears Of daily cares and passing years. A place untroubled by the beat And aimless rush of many feet.    You want a grassy corner where,    Untroubled by the mocking stare,    Of those who do not understand    You'll take a pen into your hand.    Take pen, and write a simple song    To pass unnoticed by the throng. But then, someday when you are dead, And granite molders at your head, A careworn soul will read your lay Of starry night and sunny day And find the courage to depart The beaten paths, and make a start    Upon the peaceful, grassy way    Where only kindred feet will stray.    At length to seek a weathered stone -    A grassy tomb, at peace, alone -    And say, (perhaps with grateful tear),    'My friend, your so...

Black road Brown clay Fresh bloom Cold day Dark sky Sun ray Rain drip Calves play Green field Clouds grey... In one Spring day.

Daffodils crouch down To weep, to drown, Beneath a sobbing sky. Timid April shivers - Winter passes by.