Chris Purser

eaven knows there is a misprint in this poem

littering the page
...

Fight with hand or sword, fight as one against one, fight with honor and grace, and you will gain glory and love without disgrace.

Give mercy and show mercy, and you’ll be respected among your enemies and peers, Be honorable but not to the extreme, forgive and you will in war and peace succeed.
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Dappled golden mare
With flaxen mane,
Stroking your flank
I feel your strength and power.
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Power

The only good power is what wisdom we encounter, to make us smarter, with each passing hour.
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She walks along the pavement
Not treading on the cracks
Fearing something bad will happen
She stays tense and cant relax
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Since that day
In that fateful campaign
When you stepped willingly
Upon that sodden Flanders field
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For poems are not
As people think
Simply Emotions
One has emotions early enough
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Snow slowly coming down
Covering the ground with white
My soul is disturbed
Confused
...

Music soothes the soul
Yet can bring so many other emotions as well
When I am feeling alone and sad
I listen to my music
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I dont understand your hurts

I dont understand your thoughts
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Rainbow sunset
Lowers itself upon the stillness
Of ocean deep
Purple hued sky
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Galloping along on his horse he rides. He sits tall, proud, so full of pride.
Little emotion he does show, yet when trouble arises he's first to go.
He's one of a few, a dying breed. Use for him now, there seems no need.
Yet we search and we search all across the land, hoping for a cowboy, six-shooter in hand.
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All alone on a dusty old road,
An old, experienced sheriff stands,
Upon two holsters rest tired hands,
At his feet bodies lie, justice bestowed.
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Night falls early on the western plain,
A soft wind rustles the ash trees leaves,
Down in the graveyard a widow grieves,
And out of the west comes a soft rain.
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When I exit the halls of my birth,
and come out into the commonplace
I sigh and place my mind on
the scene at hand
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I feel ancient

like the tide.
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My feet worn red raw from each stone thrown
along this path I chose to walk.
Grit and gravel travel trail
of past regret and shame,
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Twilight
on fuchsia fields -
and tangerine tears fall
from failed forever fantasies,
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