Full bloom in the morning,
Dead at the heat of eve.
Then, you grow again,
Beautiful cornflower blue
Petals, with delicate silk.
Like our lives, truly...
We grow for a moment
And die, and our progeny
Grow up quickly after us.

Across the country highway,
The buck ran with the doe;
His green antlers growing 
About a foot and a half
Since the spring.

I am a supporter of it.
People did not indiscriminately kill men women and children,
Nor were our cities a warzone,
When it existed.
50,000 people a year die from Gang Violence.
They hide that from you, though.
The fact that there were such a penalty for it
Would certainly make them think twice.
Not to mention, it'd be more merciful
Than simply locking them up.
It'd give the criminals a chance to repent,
And quickly go to the gallows,
Where they could at least save their eternal soul.

I see You fail at making the Rifle Team at school.
Looks like you shopped around, looking for a mark.
'Prince Harry--maybe--Joe Biden, Donald Trump.'
I see you see Trump will be nearby.
I then see, to prove to the world you got the stuff
I witnessed you kill a fireman.

Though, the question still remains,
Why didn't secret service cover the sniper perch?

It looks like a hooded assassin
Upon the lamppost.
Its head and neck like a man's
And body like a monk's.
Then it flies, and you see
It's speckled chest.

It helps you understand
Why ancients were fearful of them
And they will make their perch in Babylon.

The sages discussed, "We cannot touch it,"
When adding up infinities...
Thus, all engineering failed
And so with it all laws of physics
And so with it all laws of math and science
Beyond rudimentary geometry.
All because they couldn't accept
The Bible were true.

I look at other households,
And see things.
But not real things.
I see fancy art, made cheaply on cardboard
I see stone tables, plush pillows
Couches made from leather
TV and Computers;
Good appliances, wicker chairs---but artificial ones.
Most houses I go to, that's what I see.
Not antiques handed down from four generations
Or art and furniture made by family members.
I understand why our country is frustrated.
Everything is new, and disconnected from the past.

I sit upon my couch, and I ponder the blessings.
Cups I bought from the pickled peppers,
Perfect glasses for drinking.
Moana, which you see on my one book cover.
Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.
A Father-clock. The palm from a Palm Sunday
Accents the portrait of Jesus.
A green poinsettia in Mid July.
A Hexagonal Fish Tank with my fish
On a hexagonal wooden stand.
I have the 1947 portrait of Jesus
In my room, with a globe, lantern
Sea Shells and in them Polished Semi-Precious stones.
My Dad's poems he wrote, framed well by me upon the wall
With that little newspaper clipping off to the side and perfect formatting
Of attribution font.
My bookshelves my Pappy made,
The cupboards and paper towel roll too.
My chess table, expertly carpentered by a family acquaintance from church.
My Nanny's plastic vase with plant.
My Mom's glass bluebird and my July Bear.
Paintings which relatives made, and photographs.
Pound Puppy and my Nanny's Afghan she knit
And my Mimi's afghans too.
My bird book by Reader's Digest that 
I used while bird watching with my Pop pop.
My Grandma's memory;
My Aunt Kim's judgment of aesthetics.
A cappuccino maker, every household appliance
Good cookware. Stainless Steel cutlery.

One thing I learned from psychiatry
They left one good piece of advice
Out of thousands of bad ones.
Gratitude is the elixir which remedies depression.

What may be my last poem I ever write...

Let me never die, let me never die,
Do not let my hopes perish in this life.
Answer me swiftly, and give me Zion
And let me enter Everlasting Peace.

Let me love, o, let me love eternal
Souls, and let me feel compassion in my
Inward parts, and let me feel tender love
And mercies toward every person I meet.

Let me have desire; I will enter
My wife, and be knit with her soul
And create flesh tied with flesh, children
For us to raise and build a life in truth.

Let not riches corrupt me, poverty
Destroy me, let me not be foolish in
Giving, but let me uphold those whose needs
I have with me to fulfill; have and give.

Lord, let me learn, let me learn all there is
In Your Wisdom and Peace, and honor's might.
Let me be full of learning and wisdom
And let me teach many sinners the way.

Lord, I am sick in mind, and sick in soul
For I have doubts of myself, and sickness
In my very being. Yet, let me be 
Healthy, and an ointment on all others.

Lord, I have seen peace, so increase it well
And let me eat, drink, merry, but fast strong
And abstain from sin, and do good and well,
And  see good in the land of the living.

Lord, let me teach on the honor of God
And let me convert many sinners to 
Your paths, and let me build foundations strong
Of Christ's opal Diamond, red, green and black.

Lord, give me truth in my most inward parts
And give me truth in my inward being.
Give me faith, and truth, and honor's blessing.
Let me never be ashamed, and restful.

Lord, give me pleasant  labors, and good work
Which gives me rest in my inwardmost bones
And gives me health and flourishing, and feels
Good, and is not a strain to my body.

Lord, war is utmost evil, it is wrong
But sometimes what is wrong must be done. All
Things in this world have times and seasons
A season for all things under the sun.

Yet hope is perpetual. I shall live.