Turn Off the Tap, by shane dickie

Turn Off the Tap

Turn off the tap,

Mind thoughts feelings

No more in rapt

I feel myself reeling

No longer is it noise or real,

I want to slow the merry-go-round deal

Not like in childhood when I wanted it to bound

Into new territory unknown unsound

Life was all new seeds unsown,

Now I want the train to slow down,

And peace to rein in this non-stop pound,

Turn off the tap,

Let me for a space

Feel & think nothing no chase

No worry or pain,

My soul & sanity to gain

New poets struggle with the weight Of the world, New poets feel invisable, They curl up in a ball & feel like giving up all;

I am the winner of the poetry priz… I am special in your eyes, Looking up to me you see, Potential & a place in history, Winner of the prize...

Writing & reading poetry Is delicious, Like smelling & eating Mom’s Apple pie without the dishes, What is life for but

Seek God the Lord Not from without But from within, The Temple Holy of Holies Resides in you,

It is in little moments That life is best lived, Like the one of the father Taking time to play checkers With his son,

The only relationship We need to be of concern, Is the one we have with God, The others are reflections, Chances to learn,

To love God Is to desire Him, This is the source Of my pleasure, I no longer seek

To honour one’s predecessors, Is deserving & kind, Especially ones of the same name So fine, James Dickey writes 'Deliverance’

God is perfect Religions are not, Humanities effort To reach heaven Is frought with imperfections,

Each day is unique, A path of the Earth, That is never to be repeated, From our birth, Each day has its own blend

Trees are gentle giants That scrape the sky With their groping grace, Timeless & motionless They mirror 'God The Father’s