Terence George Craddock Poems

waking to the tragedy
of school boy weekdays
waking slow reluctant
to face school days dragging;
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elemental lives feeling moving drifting
moving with purpose stopping thinking
sometimes we are wind spreading ourselves
moving sometimes we are a tumble weed
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storms in days hours
lull soft gentle waves
wash up tranquil friendly
on sandy shores
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age at first
is unseen
youth is a dream
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an inspired insight into the power of the pen
once in dark age before electronic keyboards
word processing power instant fingertip corrections
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writing prolific cooked fried red herrings
prolific writing a tale across time
prolific is not important
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in the hospitality industry
which personality

is most suitable
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rules for growing up in large families?
first up best dressed last up nothing left
unless you want to be styled in worst
hand me downs torn worst worn out
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the tree shivers
quietly
as the winter breeze
drifts by
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greed hates me
wealth hates me
power hates me
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