An idea crossed my mind Just the other day, But I’ll never know What it was; It got run down in the crosswalk By the traffic of my stress, For whom it’s always rush hour And there’s no such thing As a peaceful Sunday drive.
My train of thought Left the station without me Because I lost my ticket to ride, But I’m in no hurry; I’ll put both oars in the water And float my boat up the creek Of my own serenity.
If I find you there without a paddle, I’ll loan you one of mine.
Very nice, Robert. I'm sure it was meant to give us a chuckle, but it's very clever and imparts some wonderful messages, especially at the end. Very well done.
Love,
CJ
I like the rhythm if the lines
nice write Robert.
I used to find myself always stuck within the crosswalks
In grid lock
and never had a ticket to ride
Nor did my ship never came in
"Then again I left the Big Apple"
Happy Holidays Robert
Peace
Histories of the world are generally written to either celebrate technology and science, or to herald doom. My book examines the path of the spirit in the onward rush.
This combined narrative dialogue and play is about the uncreated, unborn and undying transcendent Self of God-consciousness and Buddha-nature. It describes an odyssey of transcendent Consciousness Awakening and Remembrance.
Explains the realizations that have given the author the views of living life fully. The life each person dreams about.
You must take a look at yourself before dreams can be reached.
Deciding what is the core of belief.
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cynth'ya lewis reed
Love,
CJ
enjoyed
this is funny i was going to name the poetry book i'm working on
"A Book Of Memory Songs" this puts me in the mind of that Smiles
Love Tinka
nice write Robert.
I used to find myself always stuck within the crosswalks
In grid lock
and never had a ticket to ride
Nor did my ship never came in
"Then again I left the Big Apple"
Happy Holidays Robert
Peace
William
Regis