John A. Hancock Poems

Fifty years ago upon an open meadow
A dream took root from all who gather'd there
To build a home for our treasured seniors
Rising upon a foundation of love and care
...

They served unto me their great knowledge
Tis to laugh upon this gift
Their words they believe beyond my conception
Yet I hear them clearly not one word do I miss
...

Twas in merry olde England many a year ago
The bard weaved his sort'd tales
Of tragedy, revenge, love and comedy
Of each twas said he knew'th all to well
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Thine eyes dance the moon light's glow
Smouldering embers with just a hint of flame
Would but a word upon thy beauty enkindle in thee
A passionate love yet unclaimed
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Dresses ivy green the church
Such art to me delights
Betwixt colored panes of glass
Inventing dazzling beams of spectral light
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Thou art friend and foe o' dark of night
Into thy face many a time I hath gazed
Oft we've battled till morning light
All for the want of a missing word or Phrase
...

In my mind I drew a pretty picture
A portrait only just of you
All the colours form'd an image of thy face
With your eyes sparkling like the morning dew
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Cursed be this loneliness
A never ending starless night
A canopy of darkness doth cover
The joyful days of life
...

They served unto me their great knowledge
Tis to laugh upon this gift
Their words they believe beyond my conception
Yet I hear them clearly not one word do I miss
...

Each new day I arise in quiet anticipation
For the words thou hath sent to me
Far across the sky they travel here
T'which my eyes eagerly await to see
...