Awake, Old Man Winter, hear my song.
Strong are your breaths that chill my bones.
Stones in the brook are wrapped in clear ice.
Twice they were thawed by a sun drenched day.
Cafe poetry, coffee and sweet cream,
Team up with thoughts of warm intimacy.
Consistency of winter's chilling winds,
Skins the sensitive heart yet one more time.
Sublime are mountains with their snow caps.
Perhaps now, we could dance on a frozen lake.
I learned as a child, the horrors of war. I learned from books and pictures I saw. I learned of hate, violence and greed I learned of starving people, we couldn't feed.
I thought back then, the world would change I thought other cultures, seemed really strange. Why would they live in a place with no food and water? Why would a parent pick a husband for their daughter?
Why does man fight over land, when there is so much? Why can't we share the lands resources and such? I thought time would civilize everyone. But it's like waiting for the midnight sun.
I wish for us all, that wars would cease. I pray everyday for world wide peace. I found here, a little haven of joy, of heart and soul...the real McCoy.
In our own little corner of the world, we live with love, hope and understanding to give. We, poets of the world, stand tall, stand proud We speak in volumes without being loud.
Yet our message is heard through many words. Rehearsed through scholars and even nerds. Long live the words through our verse as they enter the mind and then immerse.