rooster crowing,
dogs barking, rain falling,
almost a tease...
the price of gas rising,
the cost of life rising,
Wall Street speculates...
gambling with human lives.
so many walk the edge,
teetering with every blow...
the sound of distant trumpets!
small people have big hearts,
picking up pieces of lives,
scattered like trash
on highways that devour.
strong candles stay lit,
flicker with the storm,
yet the light remains,
the light remains...
rooster crowing,
sleep pillows laid aside,
the hunters and gatherers
tuck their children neath their arms!
I have seen this coming awhile. We visited family in Eire a year before they went begging and we saw the huge building programmes of, what? Buildings to house dreams of an ever increasing supply of buyers that didn't exist. Now it's Greece, Portugal, Italy and who knows who else? Think I'll open that bottle of fine gin I have hidden and pour a small nip.........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Eric i enjoyed this read keep it up