Poetry

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Sometimes you find you are never right,so much the
better if you are out of sight,from a cliff top's
outward glance,compare you're thoughts from days gone hence,matters not what you say,an ancient ruin yet here to stay,in years gone past it stood
to last,each stone in its impressive shape could
tel a tale how it had been laid,people pass it at head height's glance,unlike the others it has some stance,it shows to us who take the time of its laying,was born to-day and made this way,fashioned by our creators say,like all other stones in GOD'S
edifice,am only here in my quietness,overlooked or
unseen,am solid,so i am not a dream,soulful beings
alive moving and wanting wings,where all of heaven forever sings. Joe.

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