Narrow was our shelter
low its ceiling, floor
windows tiny, grainy
paint chipped off the door
...
Silver pockets full
is a lovely dream
hopes and aspirations
shine in golden gleam
...
An old horse plows the well worn path
in rows where seeds are sown
slow, heavy footsteps bear the weight
from sweat and years of groans
...
Guide me Lord and light my path
As I walk this road
Bless my thoughts with sights and sounds
Sky signs to decode
...
The truth comes out
in the later of the late hours
when there is no traffic hum
no talk or chirping of birds
...
A friend was fading with old age
whose potted palm had seen bright days
was now enmeshed with webs of time
that drag life down in slow malaise
...
'Staatenlos' they called us
a group without a land
nowhere to rest or settle
from liberty long banned
...
Last night when all the lights were out
with not a soul or car about
I woke and spied a moon quite low
of orange tone with mystic glow
...
Tectonic plates beneath the seas
volcanoes feared by Javanese
faults tearing rocks and earth apart
who can foretell when they will start
...
People come and people go
ever changing to and fro
friendships fade or friendships grow
some we slowly come to know
...