The World Today
The world cries out in sad despair,
Does not your brother care,
Colour creed, it matters not
So be it your brother lot.
Can he not stretch his hand in peace,
Defeating want, that wars may cease,
The hands of time are wearing thin
What price, the victors win
Man in his restless state of mind,
Cannot seem to find,
The common bond, that all must share
To Love his brothers everywhere
Yet there is this never ending seed,
Of mans inhumanity and greed
Which seems to show its ugly face
A weakness of the human race.
Man must realize this world we share.
Has been left to him in care
He must in time learn to live in peace,
So that war and want forever cease.
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The Ancient High Kings of Ireland
Softly, softly, voice of the winds
This is where the story begins,
Long, long ago, in the magic of time
Lived the high kings of Ireland, their music and rhyme
Of legends and folklore and ancient high kings,
Of leprechauns and banshees and all magical things
It tells of an Ireland so rugged and fair
Of mystical spells, and heavenly prayer.
Places so lovely all sparkling and bright
Of star studded heavens, like jewels in the night
It speaks of the crowns all ancient and past,
All regal in splendour and never surpassed
So look to tomorrow, the rainbow will shine,
Softly, softly, those dreams are all mine,
When God made old Ireland, I have to confess
The high kings of Ireland, he surely did bless
Perhaps in you dreams now, perchance you will see,
Those realms of such beauty, that once used to be,
And there in your dreams, in sleep state and mind,
Those high kings of Ireland, youÕll probably find.
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Fireworks
Zoom, Bang Flash, gay colours everywhere
Boys and girls standing there,
Dazzling sparkling, oh how bright,
Sheer beauty, and delight,
Cascading in ever wondrous bowers,
Blues and greens, and yellow showers,
Excitement, laughter, thrills the night,
Spellbound by this magic sight,
Like a painting in the sky,
Bursting, booming, before they die.
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