Trapped

TRAPPED

I turned and was lost,

Frozen in place

By the beauty of your face,

Soul mirrored in you eyes,

One look at your loving soul

Melted my heart away.

Its not just bullets and arrows,

That fly straight and true

To pierce the unwary heart.

Strength and armour protect not.

The hunters heart is not immune

To cupids cruel darts.

The hunter dispatches he quarry

Swiftly to ease its pain.

With heavy, compassionate heart

The sharp knife does it’s work.

One last shudder, the deer lies still,

The pain quickly over.

Yet the hunter’s heart is not immune,

And is snared in one brief glance

Into your soft and loving eyes.

Unable to hold you in his arms

He must forever endure

The lonely ache in his heart.

Bob Richards

The Day Denny Died

THE DAY DENNY DIED

I cried the day

That Denny Died.

Struck down by a rock,

By some mean youths.

I can picture him cowering,

A young child in fear,

A young mind trapped

In the body of a man.

Was he struck down

Because he was different?

He was not much threat.

The reason he was killed,

I will never know,

But I grieve for him,

And his family I know.

Why must the innocent -

The meek and the mild-

Suffer injustice,

Even at the hand of a child?

Bob Richards

Darkness of Despair

DARKNESS OF DESPAIR

It steals upon us silent and unseen

The darkness of despair.

Who knows when their actions

Bring darkness of despair.

Words said and words unsaid

Vessel for darkness of despair.

Love unrequited and love lost

Bring darkness of despair.

The eternal struggle with no respite

Brings darkness of despair.

Let acts of random kindness

Fight the darkness of despair.

Say the works of kindness

Repel the darkness of despair.

Give your heart to love freely

Defeat the darkness of despair.

Bob Richards

ON BEARING BURDENS

Is there amongst us

Any women or man

Who, for a while,

Like a colossus stands

With feet wide spread

And broad back bent

To shoulder the load

For those more spent?

Often standing alone

Between pillars of strife,

Trying to protect

A lover or wife.

For those less able,

Our hearts open wide.

Giving the more feeble

A haven to hide.

When we too stumble,

And we grow weak-

Too proud to be humble,

Too stubborn to speak-

Well we too find

Someone with might,

Our white knight,

To put our life right?

Bob Richards

OLD MAN TIME

Old man time,

When I am happy,

Why do you speed by?

But when I’m working,

And want you to fly,

You just poke along?

Old man time,

Make up your mind-

Some times a friend,

Some times a foe,

What strange quirk,

Makes you so?

Old man time,

What strange cycles you keep,

Turning day into night

And night into day,

Four seasons each year,

Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall.

Old man time,

All things to all men.

Enough time they say,

Will cure anything-

From a broken heart

To a mending a wing.

Old man time,

All-powerful and strong,

You take of our youth,

And time from our

Loved ones you steal.

Can I make you one deal?

Old man time,

Give me time to dwell,

And smell the roses,

To care for a friend,

Time to show love

To those I hold dear.

Bob Richards

Paths - a poem

PATHS

Two paths diverge-

One well worn,

Trod by many feet,

The other indistinct,

To parts unknown.

Will we chose

The way well worn,

Swept along

With no control

Of where we go?

Blindly following

Those preaching hate,

Swept along

In blind faith

By leaders corrupt?

Or will we chose

The Path less trod,

Listening to the voice

Of reason and love,

Of conscience and God?

The unmarked way-

Fraught with peril

But full of adventure,

And great rewards

Of friendship and love.

History is made

Not by the lambs

That follow like sheep,

But those with hearts

To follow their dreams.

Two paths diverge-

Which will you choose?

The one well worn

And seemingly safe,

All in the crowd?

Two paths diverge-

Will you have the courage

For the path more vague,

Seeking great adventures,

Reaching amazing places?

Bob Richards

THE OLD MAN

The old man sat on the park bench,

Face turned to the warm sun.

Tears slowly trickled down his cheek

In spite of the small smile on his lips.

Hands gnarled and worn gently gripped

The cane laid across his lap.

Years of hard labour had left their mark

On a body bent and racked with pain.

He sat with heard cocked to one side,

Listening to the sights he could not see,

For though his eyes had grown dim,

His senses and memories were still bright.

The joyous cries of the children at play

Sparked memories of the childhood gone by.

He could almost feel the sand beneath his feet,

And pictured friends long gone.

The perfumes of the women nearby

Brought memories both sad and gay,

Of loves lost in years of youth,

To loves that blossomed and grew.

Play children enjoy your youth

Too soon you grow to adult hood.

You lovers give your love every day,

For you too may be old and alone one day.

Bob Richards