I sat below a funny tree

I sat below a funny tree

And looked upon a honey bee

The cold breeze made me shiver

He feels the wild flower quiver

For he has his place in nature

Such a humble little creature

He has an independent will

But never seems to fight or kill

How could such a thing come to be?

Out of such total poverty

How could the birds learn how to sing?

And some how live upon the wing

Without a universal light

That links all creatures in their flight.

She's in the army, Art and Poetry

She's in the army

Not to defend you and me

Not for peace to be

Not to stand up for the free

Not for love to see

But for what

She knows not

And in her eyes a sad look

For what war has took

And for lost faith hell has shook

That holds like a hook

The poor soul

Does not know

With her voice comes a soft sound

She says with a frown

And with the look of a curse

'We've made it all worse'

Then a sigh

To say why

So many dead kit and kin

In a dreadful din

For the war was just a sin

She could never win

Just a game

For the lame

For a political lie

Helicopters fly

And so many had to die

Just for a false cry

For a lie

No goodbye

Now she just tries to forget

She tries not to fret

She will have many regrets

For the mould is set

But then light

Shining bright

And she becomes part

Of the enjoyment of art

And sits like a saint

Surrounded by all her paint

But can she be free

Of Karma she sees.

The Glowing Moon, Art and Poetry

In my room late at night

I see the moon's fated light

Its whole face was in a mirror

Not a trace of it was blurred

There a oneness I did behold

To see wonder there unfold

For light I know must travel straight

But can this be just the hands of fate

For my eyes, Sun, Moon and Earth

Must line up for this to give birth.

Is there more than light at play

In the realms of night and day

Could the atoms come together?

And at one time be so clever

Without the rhyme of light

Within the mind of sight.

Does a dragonfly live?, Art and Poetry

Does a dragonfly live?

For a moment to give

And the morning birds sing

Just so beauty can spring

And do elephants dream

Of love that's never been,

Does the swan ever sigh

Just to look, in an eye

And the albatross fear

When he sees no land near.

The great whales of the deep

What secrets do they keep?

That makes them so unique

So gentle and so meek,

For they have peace of mind

That we will never find.

Could lions and tigers

And those funny spiders

Have sad feeling like us

When their dreams turn to dust,

For are we all the same

Under the falling rain.

Does God play dice?, Art and Poetry

Does God play dice?

With clay and life

On such a scale

No one can fail.

Are their layers?

Upon layers

Of creation

Variations

Sunsets unseen

Dawns beyond dreams

Worlds spinning round

Where life is found

Just playing dice

Creating life.

Out of immortal life it came, Art and Poetry

Out of immortal life it came

The cosmos without a name

To move without regret or gain

In all and in the one the same

To expand both mild and wild

Like an ever growing child

But without sadness or pain

With a mathematical brain

Out of the darkness of space

The conscious heart came to pace

For out of the dieing suns

The elements of life does come

Out of the force of such extremes

Came the opposite it seems

To look upon the sky and sigh

And in books try to workout why

For evolution brought meaning

To a cosmos just dreaming

For now life must comprehend

No beginning without end.

The Mona Lisa, Art and Poetry

A look in her eyes
That will never die

She will never cry
Never even sigh

A visual rhyme
Like the mountains high

Or the clouds in the sky
River running by

Leading far and wide
To the ocean side

Like the sands of time
For she stands Divine

On the shores of time
Never to be mine.