Pockets of sunshine
Stand you firm upon the land
yet island it’s going to seem,
though taint of madness fast increase
I share with you this dream.
Across the world, a sickness grows
of virus planned and deadly,
as even now you see the signs
yield to not this bleak medley.
The Horsemen have another time set free
upon a much-trained folk,
apocalypse of dismal tune
though many rashly joke.
There is no humor to the present tale
that scans across the ocean,
for I even have seen insidious growth
they seek the brave and free.
Others of a weaker blend
have swallowed bait and hook;
no longer do they think or act,
blind eyes replace the book.
Their thoughts not keen exist;
respect for all times seems dimmed,
though a number of us still hear the notes
of freedom’s brightest hymns.
Blinded by machines and fads
and products most obscene,
the eyes of men have long gone blank
now programmed by the screen.
Titles rank and promised gifts
replace Man’s truth and duty,
once held so dear by one and every one
compassion, love and wonder.
Our earth is once known to birth us all
as a mother to our joy,
now bleeds and sorrows in her pain,
a spoiled child’s toy.
Their lies throughout the planet now spread
as elitists steal control,
they’ve aborted from each man and child
their spirit… and their soul.
But wait! before the sky goes dim,
mismanaged by these few,
we must establish islands;
I’m speaking now of YOU.
For still within the multitudes
of those whose eyes are blank,
are tiny bits of scattered light
and these I mean to thank.
We need to spread the quiet word
established deep within,
that if one soul still stands apart
protect him! bring him in!
Share your strength and courage
with others, you shall meet,
but carefully reveal yourselves
and live by thoughts and feats.
Be wary of the blinded ones
for dangerous their plight,
as they’re going to attempt to drag you down:
stand firm in freedom’s fight!
Be cautious of whom you trust
as you become most rare,
and hunt down those with hearts like yours
they’re scattered everywhere.
Know when to talk and what to mention,
protect your wit and might,
then join with others like you
in pockets crammed with light.
Stand you firm or bend at will
to nurture well this dream,
that madness is often cured at the root
though deadly it’s going to seem.
Send forth your strength and luxury
to those not yet gone blind,
and gather then more bits of sunshine
each ray that you simply can find!
For goodness gathers because it grows…
on nurturing it thrives,
and madness shrinks when understood
by healthy wholesome lives.
This is not the top …
I write to feel better, in life to be effective…
To shift my inner balance and gain a transparent perspective.
I write to sing a love song, my thanks for daily cheer…
To alter moods within me and soothe my every fear.
I write to go away a record, my living history…
Because it’s all-important, a minimum of it’s to me.
I write to know my feelings, like all other men…
To deep explore my inner realm and thus… to understand.
Diana Hunter McGuerty has been an educator for over 35 years and a lifetime poet.