Highwaymen Of 2020

We have become highwaymen and women

With our masks pulled tight

Over our nose and mouth

Now, we are in disguise

(But weren’t we always)

Wearing these things are either

An asthmatics nightmare

Or

A rapists delight

False smiles that don’t reach the eyes

Can be hidden

As well as manic grins

And angry little pouts

All of our foibles, now safely

Under that little piece of cloth

The opposite is also true

You can see

The twinkle in the eye

Of the genuine smile.

Measured and Moderate

It’s hard to be measured

And moderate

And daily bread

And not do one hundred things

In one day

And spend the next four weeks in bed

I aim to be measured

And moderate

And in all things temperate be

A fully funtioning member

Of society

I aim to be

The person that people come to

For support and hope

And cake and tea

I aim to be the person

Who I would love to be

I aim to be measured and moderate

In all that I do.

Measure me out

On the scales of human kindness

And hopefully I won’t slide

Further down one side

And just have an equilibrium

That will see me steady

And going down that narrow road

So straight and smooth

Not rocky at all

I’ve stopped rhyming…

But I’m old and weathered

That happens sometimes

When you’re not moderate

Or measured.

I’m Not Breaking Promises

I’m not breaking promises

To myself anymore

I’m not slamming my fingers

In the door anymore

I’m not sabotaging the things

That are good for me

I’m not holding on

To the ‘pain-body‘

I’m not saying God

Won’t give me wings

‘Cos now I know

That he forgives me things

There’s so much more

That He will do

I just really need

To forgive others too.

And it’s time to stop

The sackcloth and ashes

It’s time to stop

The thousand lashes

It’s time…

I stopped the war.

I’m not breaking promises

To myself anymore.