The crickets roar in the field of a thousands voices as they sing the last evening’s song of the season, and on bare branches a murder of crows congregate, a band of dark voyeurs, against a backdrop of night.
With age comes wisdom, it's true, so make sure the wisdom you gain is worthwhile.
I thought my self immature till I had a baby. A baby is a sure way to mature oneself. So I had two more! And now that they are grown and mature, they call me immature!
It takes two to tango. It takes two to marry. It takes two to keep it going.
Treat words like grains of salt. Grab hold of them and learn, but allow some to slip through your hands.
And above all else....I give thanks to God....everyday!
All my poems and photos are copyrighted. Thank you to all who have left a comment.
5 comments:
The crickets roar in the field of a thousands voices
as they sing the last evening’s song of the season,
and on bare branches a murder of crows congregate,
a band of dark voyeurs, against a backdrop of night.
Perfect evening.
ToOdLeS.
Beautiful sky to have as a background to that foreground. A great picture. I like it very much.
beautiful!!
thank you, all!
And thank you, Joe, for the poem...you are an awesome poet!
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