Thoughts of them, thoughts of us

thoughts of suspicion and of trust

thinking aloud, thoughts, spoken

truth builds trust, its never broken

lies, deciet, unfaithful the intrusion

no confusion when fused with truth

they bring together, left, right foots

boots trodden on lanamated floors

scratched surface,perfect no more

leave minds at door, as you enter

who knows, did someone venture

a thought in progress, it`s sublime

inspired all their trustworthy minds

thoughts of this, its thoughts of that

birds can hear an approaching cat

where its been knows where its at

what its intentions are to the mouse

when it has been trapped in a house

pigeons are known as the flying rats

thoughts of you, small grounded bat.

All this thinking does more harm than good

but to any fat thinker my word is your food.

                   J.D Stevenson

 

home-grown seed




As far as we could see

belonging to you and me,

are our fields of barley.

 

children are staying away

with no recognition of play

in our golden fields of barley.

 

take my hand, let us return

churning emotions began,

walking in fields of barley.

 

standing on fertile ground

wind being the only sound

blowing thru fields of barley.

 

we`ll remember, once more

our oceans and our shores,

strolling in our fields of barley.

 

taking the good with the bad

when we are happy or sad,

hand in hand in fields of barley.

 

spiritual friend, lets do this again

hugging you tightly until the end,

wandering thru our fields of barley.

 

when the birds fill the air with noise

still hear the breath of the tortoise,

in our glorious, silent field of barley.

 

                    J/D/S

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© James Douglas Stevenson 2005