Tuesday, April 7, 2009

An Older Poet

I'm just an older poet
Crafting words from what I’ve seen.
No Shakespearean sonnet,
I type exactly what I mean.

My life is one big escapade,
Where I pinch myself to see
Is it true or am I being played
By a mind that’s running free?

I travel roads of interest
Knowing life is so complex.
Yet, I’m always feeling blessed,
Seeing things I don’t expect.

I take a lot of pictures,
Looking for the one that’s great.
It’s funny how each captures,
The essence of my fate.

I search for beauty and wisdom,
In places both great and small.
I hear a thousand students hum,
Some song I can’t recall.

I type of things that shouldn’t be
And are really very bad.
I wish that everyone could see,
The beauty and not the sad.

I write the words that come to mind,
While I sit in silence deep.
Relaxing and reflecting to unwind;
Just before I fall asleep.

1 comment:

Mr. Yao said...

well, though I don't understand the poet 100%, it gives me a not-happy feeling. I can tell u r writing ur mood after u sailed into ur 62th year.
Am I right?


-Mr. Yao