Thankful

Turkeys are cooking
Families traveling
Snow is falling
And Christmas lights a’glowing

We count our blessings
Remembering the good things
Be they large or small
And giving thanks for all

But not all enjoy this season
Some have no reason
Some huddle beneath bridges
Some hide from relatives

When you pray and give thanks
Spare a moment and give a thought
To all those who are without
To all who are hurting now

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Still

The morning breaks silent and still
Rows upon rows of men stand still
Their spears gleam in the light
Like a thousand lamps
Their shields polished silver and bright

The day gains strength
Rows upon rows of men prepare
Their hands grip weapons and shields
Ten thousand men stand ready
Ten thousand men stand still

A terrible horn is heard
Than the ground begins to shake
Out of darkness they come
A steady beat of feet against earth
Out of the darkness come men
Out of the darkness comes the enemy
Bronze shield form a living wall
A forest of spears follows

A terrible sight to behold
An army greater than had thought
On and on they pour through
Ten thousand men at the front
With many more following still
Hearts are shaken
And knees tremble at that sight

One man rides before the silver host
“Stand your ground!” He cries

Today we fight not for our own
but for our families
Today we fight not for our king
But for our love ones
Today we stand and defend

With a roar the silver legion cries
A wall of silver forms agains the wall of bronze
Silent in resolve
Weapons made ready
The silver host stands still
As the enemy marches on

Ten thousand feet
Five thousand feet
Three thousand feet
One thousand feet

The Woods

It stands not too far
Appearing for all like ancient woods
With bent and weathered trees
With thick underbrush
With scurrying animals and birds
Yet the air taste strange
And the trees more alive
When you near these woods

A power lies upon these woods
An endless twilight
Beneath green leaves
Strange lamps can be seen
Among bough and trunk
Strange laughter can be heard
Deep within the woods
All who enter never stay
All who seek never find
All who are lost find food and shelter
But those who seek harm are never found

A power lies upon these woods
Be it summer, spring, winter, or fall
A peace can be found
Where the weary find rest
And the restless find stillness
A whisper can be heard
Like wind among leaves
Or the quiet song of strings
Playing through the night
None have ventured to cut tree or stone
None have questioned why this forest remains

It stands not too far
Appearing deserted and old
A remnant of what it once was
The people watch and plan
Yet somehow it always remain
Year after year
Century after century
Where the air is rich
And the trees sway in windless air

Eerie Morning

city lights on a morning horizon
The morning breaks
As it has every day
Yet there is something more
The breeze flows
Yet it holds a chill

The morning breaks
As it has every day
Yet there is something more
No birds sing
No bugs speak

The morning breaks
As it has every day
And there is something more
The morning clouds
Reflect a strange light

The morning breaks
As it has every day
And there is something more
But now I know what it is
It is not the eastern dawn I see
But a western light

Gray World

low clouds, fog hiding tops of skyscrapers

The wind howls down empty avenues
And rattles against empty windows
No sun to see
No blue sky to hold
Just the empty streets
Beneath the gray sky
The creak of metal
Of long abandoned cars
And the whistle of wind
Through broken glass

A light flickers on
A woman laughs while her dog barks
Children hurry to buses
And adults chug their coffee
Little by little, cars roar to life
And bikes click down the street
Voices fill the street
And people hurry to and fro

The heat of the cars and people
Burn back the heavy clouds
Drowning out the mournful wind
With laughter and talk
The gray clouds linger
But no longer the focus
As the people talk to one another
Sharing hopes, dreams, and life together

Fall

The smell of burn barrels in the morning air
The gentle breeze caressing skin
The crunch of leaves beneath your feet
The fresh smell that hangs in the air
The morning chill that thrills you
These are the things that I enjoy

The smell of pine or birch
Curled up with a book in hand
Watching the flocks of birds fly overhead
Enjoying a late night campfire
Hearing the nightly creatures
Or watching the stars wheel about
That is what I remember most

This is the season I most enjoy
Strolling in light clothes
Enjoying the day at hand
Without fear of heat or bug
Nor trudging through rain or snow
This is what I remember most
This is what I miss most