I sat before my desk last eve
To assess my current plight;
The things I see, you might agree,
Indicate a major blight.
How like the seasons is our life,
We face the sunshine, storms and strife;
As seasons come, so they must go,
We are enjoined within that flow.
Can you find a humble man,
Glad to be on God's green earth?
One who holds no greedy plan,
Knowing wealth has no true worth.
In an attempt to lighten up my poem site I offer
this doggeral style ditty about my neighbor's dog-
I used to range those farming fields,
O muse of mine please work with me,
Teach me to write simplisticly
And I shall seek no grander plan;
Just poetry for the common man.