Well, I do have that pot of soup I made last night, my palette is calling for something different tonight. I have a tv dinner- I guess that will do as I a lazy to boot.
I really do not feel like going out but I must. See you later.
Dinner is over, a nice ‘Rosto’ at the Mediterranean restaurant, pot roast so tender it leaps on the fork and begs you to eat it. Nancy had the Chicken Borek, chicken covered in an eggplant coating, wrapped in Filo dough. Now I sit here full, content, and happy to work on the book with a good cigar and a glass of wine.
On Balance
Upon the hill the ruins stand
a marker on Time’s long line
where once a race of man so fine
gallant warriors with iron hand
They stood and made their mark
and left the ancient tales to tell
of bravery and bloody war’s hell
upon a land both green and stark
The wind now tells the tales bold
of those brave souls who came before
who stood and became a part of lore
and we remember them who were of old
Now today we lack their will or so it seems
for now its only the safe we seek today
and adventure must be safe and fate not fey
soft we are from those whose tales take reams
A shadow of the ones before, who lived so true
we shudder at the thought of daring as they did
for we are pale copies as from danger we’ve hid
happy in empty lives where there’s little we’d do
No tales of us who will but pass away
no lingering memories beyond the grave
and sad to say we have no tales to save
such a fate I pity for we fools of today
No heroes now as of old, for we live too well
our lives made of advantage, not adversity
no challenge as in the days of old you see
and I wonder if this our own shade of hell
I found you again....I got lots of poems since I last posted