Poetry

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Look around, what do you see
beneath this old, gnarled tree?
My eyes are clear, My hearing's good too,
I watch the hoons drive by, as they do!

Drunk like a skunk on heat,
I sense their misery.
Laying on cardboard beneath the moon,
these homeless folk, they die way too soon!

The cops? They do their best,
some wear bullet proof vests.
I'm talking Oz, two thousand sixteen,
the past to Me now becomes a dream.

When doors were never locked,
towards a Church, folk flocked,
that was a time when trust was around,
no one had thought abuse would be found!

The Fifties made mistakes,
that women knew their place.
Tied to the sink with a babe on her hip,
the husbands then, ignoring her lip!

The Sixties proved a craze,
the Pill made love amazed!
A revolution borne of itself,
the Beatles made a record called 'Help'!

Then Politics took stage,
while every flag was raised.
I saw the pros and cons of defeat,
I saw corruption stand on it's feet!

And then the drugs made calls,
as Senators recall.
When judges, laymen, prostitutes used,
injected Ice and Heroin too!

And so I look and see
throughout this old, gnarled tree.
Sometimes to My joy, a Wedding takes place,
so rare, the times I witness God's grace!

But let Me lift you high,
My branches never die.
For I had grown as an Olive tree,
you would have met Me in Gethsemane.

So, at this Easter tide,
you fill My heart with pride.
Keep up the love and keep up the grace
and most of all, keep up with the pace!

For life is filled with change,
too hard now, to explain.
Trust in your Soul, it is your best friend
remember Me, for life never ends.

I hope you're satisfied,
for all truth cannot lie.
So pray for your friends, enemies too,
My heart still beats it's rhythm for you.

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