Jim Milks Poems

Father a title that many men obtain, but few men earn
To those men that earn that title we say to you
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In a far away place a solider died
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Alone in a crowd
Blackness ever rolling on
Man Stuck in traffic
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In an ancient graveyard I spend my hours
Through the broken gates swaying
And the stone angel forever praying
There amongst the splintered stones and dying flowers
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A soldier didn’t ask…
To be called a governmental slave
A soldier didn’t ask…
To put his friends into an early grave
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Another anniversary, birthday or just a day
celebrated with an empty chair
And a silent tear shed
For those no longer there
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A simple little poem written for my wife on our anniversary
A simple little poem to say I Love you more and more each passing day.
A simple little poem written with paper and pen
A simple little poem to say I love you forever and ever Amen
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Driving down route Ninety-five
just trying to stay alive
I see a girl by the side
and so I gave her a ride
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The world through the eyes of a child
Is One full of sunshine, flowers, and toys that go vroom
Where a single bush can be a forest or the wide open wild
where monsters are chased away by a dad with a broom
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Happy Birthday to me
come and sing with glee
for I am an old man now
with white hair and a wrinkled old brow
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