Of then held time
Fate may have chose
For puerile mind,
Misguided dose
Of illogical define,
Meant one embrace
State of mindful blind,
To an iniquitous world
Mindless of its decline!
puerile
“ The Way Home ” – looking for the road –
I’d moved on
For reasons vague,
Like vision fades
For bygone days,
Where but a trace
Of puerile dreams,
For untried place
Fashioned a need,
That time in wait
Might so achieve,
An understanding
Not yet discovered,
Wants one explore
Afore life quenches
That thirst to roam,
Till years suggest
Look for the road,
Leads the way home!
“ To Start Again ” ~ in step ~
To start again
Now once in step,
Right from the crib,
What we did live,
Should risk we cart
Our puerile baggage,
Fixed to the heart
Like tattoo marks
Will trace the scars
Of naive follies,
When careless days
Meant living lies
That eased the way,
To so one day
Give of the spin
Said layers a mind
Of ventures worth
Might grow us wise,
In step this time
Without reprise,
To start again!
Poetry on a canapé 