Una hora menos

  We know not We know not the day nor hour More the reason to prepare To bin that stuff that means not much To those that follow or even us.  What are the things we do not need? And even less when we are gone.  What need to keep a fifteenth shirt When the refugee has none? Where are the places we would go To harvest memories for all eternity? And what about the bucket list? What we cannot miss? Are there people we would miss  People to whom we’d say hello  Because the time is coming quick They cannot hear us six feet below.  A time for looking back, no doubt  But also looking forward  Be it days or years To stock the eternal larder.  When we are gone and turned to dust Our souls will wander past the galaxies  And live in memories formed today  For us and for our families. 

  As long as thou canst   It was George Fox who said Many years ago To William Penn who asked of him Should he wear a sword.  ‘As long as thou canst’ Came the reply And so he left aside his sword When the time came by.  Now we ask in our own days Should we drive a car? Should we fly to France? What food to eat? And more.  The answer, Friend, is still the same The time will come you’ll know when right To make the change and free yourself This change may happen out of sight.  Without loud fanfare or great shout It’s your choice alone  When the time has come And your soul can lose its chains.  And the world become a better place For all that lives and dies Set down a marker in the stone That lasts for all eternity. 

  Winding Road The road that winds down to the sea The sea that boasts wild white horses This Sunday in the middle of October When the year seems uncertain and frail.  The wind in the trees stripping back The soft leaves of summer have faded They scurry and hurry as the day Draws to a close at Carne harbor.  White and grey clouds travel east On a pale heaven of startling blue The sun lights the sky in the east In a final salute to the evening.  The wind is whipping the waves The spray is crowning the crests The power of nature so awesome The puddles reflecting the blue in the sky.  Happy to share a lone beach Deserted but for a few souls  Believing in the beauty of autumn, Unwilling to let go of the year.  Soon Halloween will come and will conquer Driving the Irish indoors But for now we’ll wander the lanes  That lead us down to the shore. 

  Marie Celeste They’re manfully rigging the Marie Celeste Young sailors are climbing the masts Shouting encouragement tho' no one will listen For the lifeboats are leaving as the evening sets in.  This once was a vessel, happy and proud With a code and a legend as long as your arm Oh what has befallen? The mighty have tumbled  The Tories are fighting for life boats and life belts.  Nothing can last - forever, it’s true No one is immortal, neither me nor you, The end when it comes, comes slowly at first Then suddenly it startles like a shot from a gun.  The end of a Party, welcomed by many, Is sad all the same for the thousands who toiled Winter nights, summer days when others enjoyed leisure, Now cast into ashes, all effort in vain. 

  She’s singing She’s singing in the kitchen She’s sounding happy out We’ve done something right, I guess  She’s hitting every note.  She’s making morning coffee  Whist humming all the time  Unguarded moments in the morning  When the soul is by itself.  Only a happy voice can sing When there’s not a soul about Uncoached, unprompted, and the tune  Floats up the stairs, escaping out The window open to the sun That rinses morning thoughts Across the eastern sky while Her happy songs fly far and wide.