EATING POMEGRANATES BY THE WATERFALL By George H Eating pomegranates by the waterfall, Is not mundane at all. To my Higher Power I can call, watch my corn grow straight and tall. Or race my turtles as they stall, to catch sun's rays would be a ball. The sound so pure my heart enthrall, the nectar sweet on my tongue fall. And though my shade tree they cut down, There's no need to frown. Seeds are planted beneath the ground, The seeds of love within their mounds, Are springing up all around. There's Liz and John and Hinda too, all the SIA crew. Yet all this love would be incomplete, if looking down I see defeet. But wait.......what is this? I did miss. A stubborn seed to my bliss, Has fought its way into the mist. It's not Shakespeare or Tolstoy, It's my friend. Georgy Boy. To take my frown, and erase. And place a smile, upon my face. That the beam, from my smile may be. The light that shines, upon my seeds. So see there's no compare, the friendship that we share. So whether tall or small, we can all. Eat pomegranates, by the waterfall. THE HEALING WINGS OF SIA By George H The healing wings of SIA, brushes my cheek, from day to day. Other survivors, passing my way, makes me feel, not alone, YAY! To listen to friends, who are able to say. In the same way, leaves me amazed. The air beneath, our wings. As the world, around us sings. Ain't no abuser, going hold our body down. Or give us a frown, above the clouds we are bound. We will defy gravity, with aerodynamics. And reach the heights, most majestic. So let's fly together, in any weather. Bound by comradery, our loving tether. Our journey is not over, it has just begun. To soar with eagles, Is so much fun. Now it is time, to spread our wings. And discover recovery, Once again. WE SHALL MOUNT UP WITH WINGS AS EAGLES WORDS By George H The language of the heart, Knows no gender. The words are often tender. As meat to the tongue, To the ear, Words are the song that is sung, Or as a seed that is sprung, In need of escape, Words are the feet that run. To the weaver's shuttle, Threads that are spun. Words cannot be retracted, Once impacted. Words can build, Or tear down. Breath a smile, Or sigh a frown. So sow your seeds, As words of kindness. Let them be as light, To blindness. A word is free, Delivered or received. From a pulper or a sheik. Yet all must give account, For every idle one we speak. DEATH AND LIFE IS IN THE POWER OF THE TONGUE