My latest Poem: Things that come of Late By Rick Young In knowing things that come of late, And hearing even more. I wonder at my gardens gate, That bounty be no more. For soil is rue of poison’s breath, And water precious found. The firefly and friendly toad, No longer share this ground. Tis not our fault quip rulers sharp, As needle’s piercing skin. For we placed trust upon a scheme, And like you were taken in. But unlike you we are prepared, With stores of goods piled high. And you my friend did not believe, And now, well now you’ll die. If ever there were clearer signs, Of mankind’s waste and greed. Or better still the fall from Grace, By a loathsome prideful creed. That places want and vile desires, Ahead of Godly deeds. And spends the future of a child, Then scoffs at what it breeds. So now you tremble stiff and scared, With aching breast and brow. As Judgment now befalls your fate, Your head and knee shall bow.
Posted on: Fri, 04 Apr 2014 02:51:38 +0000
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