The Aspiring Bard

source Upon that day when comes the final reaping And souls rise up to cross the higher shore We'll look upon the land of all the living And wonder at the worries of before. Is there a place for pride in all this gleaming? For honors won or plaudits laid in store? Were we alive or were we only dreaming In all that shadow dance which is no more?

source unknown No money will I leave And precious few Of worldly-valued things. But only sparks Of thought, Of plot, Of rhyme. Have pity on me, then, And spare me time! Poetry again! Will you look at that! Not very good. but maybe I'll get back into my groove. I've missed poetry...