For ships to pass it need not be
A foggy night. indeed must we
Be blinded in some way, too late
To recognize the hand of fate -


Seeing not the future’s plan
For pitiful but normal man
Who feels, as master of his path
That he needs not fear Fortune’s wrath,


Is egocentric folly. Lack
Of knowing all are on the track
We travel and are bound to meet
Has led to bitter, sad defeat.


An open heart - a pleasant hand
Bring footsteps home from in the sand
And ever after blessed be
That we were watchful on life’s sea.

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Those Blue Eyes
November
Feelings
Ode to Squanto
November Winds
Message From an Oak Leaf





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