Poetry

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WE GO FAST OR WE GO SLOW IF SILENCE IS THE SOUND WE HAVE COME TO
KNOW,THE MANY PLACES TIME'S OASIS LIKE THE HOUSE ON THE HILL,DO
SOME FOLK'S LIVE THERE STILL,WONDER IF MR.G. CAN CLIMB THE STAIR'S
IN HIS ROOM USED TO HEAR HIM SAY HIS PRAYER'S,HE USED TO BE A
SEAFARING MAN 90,YEARS PART OF HIS LIFE'S SPAN THE HOUSE IT STOOD
NEAR A BUSY ROAD,WITH MY BROTHER PADDY,RIP.AND FRIENDLY JIM,AND
BOARDER BOB,TALL AND SLIM A NEWS MAN HIM,US FOUR SHARED AN ATTIC
ROOM THROUGH SKYLIGHT OUT STARS LOOKED IN,ON FROSTY NIGHT THE MOON
PEEPED IN IN A SILVERY LIGHT AWAKE AT NIGHT,A SHORTISH STAY PADDY B
AND I JUST MOVED AWAY,NOW TIME SEEM'S LIKE A NEW YESTERDAY,60 YEARS
BACK IN ONES OWN MIND'S KNAPP SACK,GOD JUST WONDER IF TIOME COULD
CRACK AMEN SOME WALK BACK.
Joe.

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