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Poems: Nature-Inspirational-Love-Life-Spiritual-Romantic-Sacrifice-Addiction-Homeless Loneliness-Peace-Prison-Death-Pet-Friendship-Abuse Dedication-Teacher 9/11

Updated 10-19-19

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Lyrics Choices by George Jones I've had choices since the day that I was born There were voices that told me right from wrong If I had listened, no I wouldn't be here today Living and dying with the choices I've made I was tempted, by an early age I found I liked drinkin', oh, and I never turned it down There were loved ones but I turned them all away Now I'm living and dying with the choices I've made I've had choices since the day that I was born There were voices that told me right from wrong If I had listened, no I wouldn't be here today Living and dying with the choices I've made I guess I'm payin' for the things that I have done If I could go back, oh, Lord knows I'd run But I'm still losin' this game of life I play Losing and dying with the choices I've made I've had choices since the day that I was born There were voices that told me right from wrong If I had listened, no I wouldn't be here today Living and dying with the choices I've made Living and dying with the choices I've made When Mama Sang (The Angels Stopped To Listened) by George Jones Mama didn't have special trainin' She couldn't read the music, just the words But when she'd stand to sing on Sunday mornin' She had the sweetest voice I think I've, I've ever heard. She loved to sing the songs about our Savior "There is a Fountain", was her favorite one And I've seen tears run down the cheeks of sinners By the time my mama's song was done. When mama sang the angels stopped to listen You could see the love light shinin' in her face When mama sang the angels stopped to listen Now in heaven' choir she had a special places. You know my daddy wanted me to sing a song The day that moma left us And you know that little chuch Was filled with all of mama's friends And you know it seems we could all here mama singin' When I could hear her sing her favorite, again. When mama sang the angels stopped to listen You could see the love light shining in her face When mama sang the angels stopped to listen Now in heaven' choir she had a special places. When mama sang the angels stopped to listen.

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Illumination by Aries  Black clouds gathered, rolling through darkness tumbling to hang dark and pendulous on the horizon The wind whistled under doors rattled at tightly closed windows, tore at the roof seeking a loose tile to hurl Then a vivid illumination, glowing  white jaggered flashes, lightening ribboned the dark sky Atmospheric electricity crackled in the static charged air. Trees were flayed, limbs cracked as the wind howled a nightmare A distant rumble thunder approached, for a moment an eerie calm, stillness suddenly a violent thunderclap swiftly followed by a heavy downpour of rainfall The savage wind eased to lash water against battered window panes, until finally all that was heard nothing but steady drumming of the raindrops Blackberries Grow by Tommy McPherson Blackberries grow by Willow Creek, They swarm the water's edge, A barricade of thorny plants, Compose a guarding hedge. The berries drop with gentle plop Into the creek below. In July's heat at Willow Creek, Is where blackberries grow. The blue jay flies on eager wings, These blackberries to seek, When berries all grow ripe and black, By the banks of Willow Creek. Fall by Thomas Horton  Her eyes close tight against the blade wind: She has inhaled her last and she feels the inevitable passing.   The green leaves of childhood, resplendent in her youth, fall now russet, tawny, vermilion, cinnamon, to the stiff unforgiving ground, where they will crisp and crackle as she mourns her dying prime.   December's chill brings on bittersweet knowledge of impending decline and just as the vitality of summer smolder yielded to warming hues with the falling of temperature, so too will the colors of autumn's palette fade and blanch with the frosty gaze of winter, glowing ice embers burning her flesh under gelid hoary rime.   Blizzards roil beneath her clenched eyelids mirroring the horizon: She has inhaled her last.