His hands

 John Psalm

I remember the days of old

I meditate on all His works

I muse on the work of His hands.

Psalm 143:5

The Hickory Ship

 In their tipsy hickory ship

The little de Leon's moored

New worlds to be explored

Such excitement!

That’s life

 Life

If I consume an entire box of Life

Perhaps I’ll decide

Oh, today is a day for play

Besides, I’m too young to drive

To work so far away.

As a child

 Any Wonder

  by john clare

     And is it any wonder

 that only the smallest ones,

 Can to the grand kingdom come?

 Why the large in their own measure,

 will not stoop so low to endure,

 any diminishing of their height?

 Tis but a pitiful sight,

 to see the little ones joyfully scurry

 through the eye of the needle gate,

 while way above the giants berate

 the little ones in such a frenzied flurry.

 Childs play! they prudently say,

 Hide and seek games not for us!

 Men of renoun, we must rule the day!

 Why all this foolish play?

 And one by one the little ones enter low,

 as outside the gate to beyond,

 the grown-ups who refused to know,

 As a child you must come.

Andy

I broke my fb silence and posted the poem about Andy Griffith! I am too hooked!  

Jump John

 Jump John

Go with it

 Go with it

Whether you go with the flow

Or fight upstream against the current

Just relax, enjoy and let go

For the joy of just being in it.

Two looks

 The two approaches

I’ve spent a bit too much time in poor light, too dark and shady, to get a sharp capture at the 4000 speed. But then, I like the ethereal look out of focus too.

Burning of daylight

 Burning Daylight

by john Clare stokes  

i paused upon the Still Road

track to look down infinity and

the many who have traveled

on beyond the heat of this

July and the burning time

we could never quench all

the way up to Moniac, daylight

aflame, and i was in this heat

grateful for the ones who

led me through it,teaching me

the lessons of riding in burning

daylight, allowing me to draft,

while learning the craft,

never dreaming that i would

this July day be standing here,

alone, for in my mind we would

always be single file and pulling

one another along.

Pass prime

 Ghost of a rider...

grizzled, gasping past his prime,

zig zag zig zap up the slight incline

the cogs worn smooth jumping chain

friction down tube shifters frozen

miles to go before he sleeps

miles to go so awfully steep.

Fools for gold

Fools for Gold

by john Clare stokes

by night they marched on Zion

the gold to mine

but no treasure did they find 

breathless they turned from Zion

the streets of gold did wind

tramping on gold

the entire time.

Mariposa prison