Do I need hope, and anticipate
Or try to be serene, and believe
Looking around at all the creation
Why do I feel so much like a leaf
Leaves fall off trees flying to and fro
His cool breathe allows rides for free
Seeing His handy work far below
My short life sees the beauty in trees
© 2014 Michael Yost 06/21
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Anticipate, Cycle of Life, Death, Dreams, Expectations, Faith, God, Handy Work, Life and Death, Love, Michael Yost, Serene, Wonder
What say you my old friend, my pen?
You’ve seen my prized love letters.
Tear stained port to port letters from the sea.
Struggling through my inventories.
Words scattered here and there as a young poet.
They said I had great talent but didn’t know it.
My well-intended to do lists never to be done.
More tossed away promises than one hundred politicians.
Now after our many trials and transfusions it’s time.
It’s time to reveal the desires of my heart and where it should go.
The tea kettle is whistling; it’s time to warm your ink and my soul.
I, Michael Yost, being of sound mental health and of contractual capacity..
©2011 Michael Yost