Lisa, today you’ve made us proud,
Proud, as proud can be,
For today, at the Barbican,
You’ve collected your Honour’s Degree.
...
For Months and Months, I’ve been on here,
Trying to get to your pensive ear,
Hoping always you’ll understand,
What I write with pen in hand.
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The Sword of Damocles doth swing,
Doth swing from me to you
It taketh my heart and love from here
And sets it in thine hand
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‘Phantom Pain’, ‘Phantom Pain’,
Why do I feel it so?
In the leg I do not have,
When will that ‘Phantom Pain’ go?
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The Invictus Games in London
Have finished here today,
But I, too, am INVICTUS.
'Why is that'? ~ I hear you say.
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With Alphabetic Letters, we do write,
And with those words, we speak,
But with Numbers we do calculate,
Often daily, or week by week.
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A budding Poet am I,
B lessed with words from On High,
C reative when able,
D ependable and stable,
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A poem you did ask of me,
B irthday wishes, I send to you,
C onsider well your paths in Life,
D avina, in all that you do.
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I itch, ~ I itch, ~ I itch some more,
My stress is getting high,
That’s why the itch I canna ignore,
But Oh! ! ~ How I do sigh.
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Life is a Juggling Act, you know,
To live it fully is a must.
But how do we use our 24 hours,
Each day, is down to us?
...