J.B. LeBuert Poems

The crabapple trees are beginning to bloom.
In a couple of weeks, they'll banish your gloom.
I've got three types, the red, the pink, and the white.
They're all a wondrous and beautiful sight.
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I'm at a loss of a topic for my next poem?
Should it be about the value of loam?
It is a soil with equal parts of sand, silt and clay.
It's a fertile mixture, of that I can say.
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What does justice really mean to you?
Does it mean that wealth should be controlled by the few?
Is justice just for those with money?
If justice is dead, then that's not funny.
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Today is the day that the rain wouldn't end.
We knew it was coming, on that you can depend.
I spent the last hours preparing the yard;
It didn't matter, because it rained too hard.
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You got to move on, you got to keep dancing.
Keep shuffling your feet, step lively, keep prancing.
Life is for the living and not for the dead.
You can change the world, if that's in your head.
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I once read a book that taught me how to fly
Then each morning when alone, I took to the sky
I had no feathers or even one wing
I just had the knowledge - a great thing
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I'll be what I'll be
I'll do what I'll do
I'll see what I'll see
I'll cue what I'll cue
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Standing on the edge of the world
To the place where I had been hurled
The bosky landscape was gone
No longer just somebody's pawn
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I thought you wanted a career
It turns out you only wanted paychecks
You can't find work sitting on your rear
I thought you wanted a career
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Love's colors are not all just black and white
The color of love, different to all
The prism of color is best in fall
They can be seen even in the dark night
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