Michael Gale Poems

A man greateth cry....
He cry-he die.

A man greateth lie...
...

Forgot-forget of sorrow gone...
Until the eve, of next dead's dawn.

Be yet so brave as never thought.
...

He washed away our sins, as if by sorrowed tears...
Be not, by He, our hopeless fears.

Beyond all healings by God of high...
...

An unheard voice in the winds of unchange...
Help ushered out only if heard within proper range.

Does this seem so very strange? ...
...

To be a Guardian Angel would'st be gr8 in itself...
Guiding someone along life's somewhat erringly
wrong path
would'st be Heaven sent happiness to me.
...

India, New York City, Oklahoma City, London-Where does it stop? ...
All have died, civilians, Government officials, firemen and many a cop.

Who are these terroristic vermin? ...
...

Stranger in the wind...
Beckons at my door.

Stanger in the wind...
...

Fi, fi, fo, klan...
This is th' one-th' beastly man.

A'for i hate th' color of he...
...

I'll keep on smoking, till my choking day of death...
I'll keep on puffing, untill, i'm out of breathe.

It must be those chemicals and that tar...
...

(This poem was only meant as a reminder that there might be ignored husbands out there playing second best to the
wife's spoiled pooch.)
...