Poetry written…by men more great than I
Easily found…’tween books many pages
Judge not too harshly…with a loving eye
I shan’t be mistaken…for time’s true sages
‘Twas o’er fifty years…’ere I found mine pen
Road to discovery…littered with waste
Half century aged brain…scoured again
Each day flows by…consumed am I with haste
Yet a trail I shall leave…scattered with crumbs
Some may soothe thy palate…others less so
You may say he wrote…with protruding thumbs
Or find a gem…perchance I’ll never know
I do know I’m the sky…and you the stars
One day we’ll fly…beyond red skies of Mars
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