Like a Tree

Like a tree,
Is how a man should be,
So all of his family and friends,
Could grow and hang off branches' ends.

Men should be strong and stable.
So that their companions can be able.
They will grow as the tree grows.
To give those a good show.

But the tree needs a care taker.
Like God, who is the universe's maker.

Nature's Calling

Water rushes from the heights of a waterfall,
Deep into a valley of the Beauty of God.
The wind rustles the trees, tallest of tall.
The water splashing due to lots of cool.

Time seems not to pass me by,
And the extravagance of nature does not hide.
Every animal and creature comes out to say hi.
It is in this very moment that I confide.

Compared to this feast of miracles,
I now realize I am small.
I am called into nature's tentacles.
And invited to have a ball.

-Bill Shakez

The Game

With his hat,
and with his bat,
He will hit a ball,
for all.

Though he is down by one.
The game is not done.
He places the bat over his back
and Hits the ball with a might whack.

He shoots off like a gun,
And knows he has to run.

Safe!


His devotion was shown.
And his name is now known.

-Bill Shakez

Insecurities

Sometimes when I look at me,
I fdeel like its hard to see what God made me to be.
Whether I feel smart or shy,
or even if I sit and cry.
I have to ask God to help make me try;
to try and overcome my insecurities
He always helps me make sense of these.
God will always help us; and always bring our spirits up
He always helps me out when I'm down.
He tries to never let me frown.
God helps me makes sense pf things
He helps me through everything.

Hot

It is Hot, Burning
Swelling in the mists of fire
Dangerous but safe

Blind

Blind
Blinded
first sight... powder,
I smell
Baby Powder....
Covered,
now white and mysterious looking
I smell like...
a...
Baby...
I smell...
Great!

Powdered

The blind fold removed
he stands
awaiting his fate like a gladiator in Rime
Then it comes, like a gentle snow falling lightly down.
Baby powder.
An aroma is aroused,
a smell,
just like a baby.
He mutters, "so that's what you were doing"
and we all stare,
transfixed,
on the man with the baby powder.
Then it stops.
A sigh of relief.
And then, a simple poem.