Last Quarter

I'm in the last quarter, but am i sad?
You bet i'm not because i've had
A lot of ups and just a few downs,
Mostly smiles and occasionally frowns.

If i had to do it over again,
Would i carefully think and better plan?
Maybe i would, but i still couldn't know
Which curve balls life might throw.

For me the last quarter's just like the first.
It's the present i love and the future i thirst.
And the past is just that for me.
It taught me a lot, but it's a memory.

In this last quarter i have no sorrow.
I treasure today and can't wait for tomorrow.
Then when time passes this quarter i'm in,
I'll rest in peace knowing love did win!

poem by Gregory Huyette
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9/11 Anguish

God, are you there?
Do you care?
Why is this world so unfair?
As we cry,
As we die,
We beg you
Tell us why.
As we suffer,
As we grieve,
Dear God, we do believe.

As we face the smoky sky,
Please, oh Lord, please tell us why
Innocent people have to die.
Not just here, but everywhere.
The world is suffering.
Do you care?

We still have faith
And hope you're there.

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poem by Gregory Huyette
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Life Style

As mail brings new bills to pay,
How much more will I need?
This sinking feeling rapes my day;
A dank, dark cloud indeed.

I spend more than I make
No matter how I’ve planned.
With this life style, each move I take
Sinks deeper in quicksand.

Where I live and what I drive
Are images I have to show.
They’re testimony that I thrive
Near the precipice, I know.

The solution is make more, spend less,
But I won’t change life style.
With every bill I can’t address
Facing reality in a while.

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poem by Gregory Huyette
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Time

Who knows about the future? Who knows what we'll find?
What good and bad things are in store by chance or design?
What can be done today to alter the future's course?
If truth be known you alone rule effects of its force.
Today at work or play only the present exists.
A wise world has no room for a past-present-future tryst.
Each future hour, joyful or dour, will never arrive.
The future will be the future as long as you're alive
The past is gone forever never to steal today's times,
Unless could-have-been memories commit awful crimes.
So love and live each instant of each and every day.
You have so little time as each moment passes away.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Bluebirds and Love

A pair of sweet bluebirds with their gentle way
Describes our couple who married today.
Like bluebirds they'll nest and soar in life's sky
With views of the world from heights oh so high.

The male is strong, but at times will depend
On his beautiful mate and constant friend.
While she networks her way if problems approach,
He'll always be there to listen or coach.

When the season is right as the breezes go still,
Then there'll be young who strain for their fill.
These small ones with their fervent drone
Too soon depart to fly on their own.

As with bluebirds our lovers forever will sing.
Their song..... I love you. You're my everything!

poem by Gregory Huyette
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This Struggling Earth

If there is a creator, he’s a very sad sack
As he sees what is happening and then looks back
To notice history is again repeating.
Instead of his plan of peace and love for each other,
The religions are competing!

The holy land that once was is now nothing but dirt
Where hatred is rampant and people are hurt.
Christians, Jews and Arabs all lay claim
To common sand loaned by their creator since they were once the same.

But books written by men profess to be God,
Proclaiming rights not right on their common sod.
Hunger for power and wealth sadly determine worth.
The creator’s peace and love are farther away than ever on this struggling earth.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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War

Tragedy spawned by powerful and greedy;
Nurtured by innocent, ignorant and needy.
Politician and general safe behind buffers
As each patriotic soldier fights and suffers.
If not for the poor, who would ever wage war?
It’s waged so powerful egos can be staged.

Each time a confused, lonely soldier has to die,
Power and money are the real reasons why.
How can destroying a country and its population
Ever help inspire and unite it as a nation?
In America democracy’s a product of so few years
Built on a bloody Civil War and oceans of tears.
Through war all classes think they can be winners,
But spoils are just for the powerful and their sinners.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Only Now

Who knows about the future? What ever will we find?
What things are in store by chance or is it grand design?
What can be done today to alter the future course?
Live fully now and let these actions show their force.

Today at work or play know only present time exists.
Real world has little room for past-present-future trysts.
The future you require, joyful or dire, will never arrive.
Future will always be tomorrow as long as you are alive.

So love and live each instant of this and every day.
Be careful that you or the moment never waste away.
Do not condemn yourself to a life of sanguine sorrow
By treating today as if it were yesterday or tomorrow.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Fortune of Misfortune

Tragedy or misfortune have another side to behold.
Oft times they point to directions heretofore untold.
Since life is so hurried with labors of the day,
Who can find a moment to view a different way?

There’s little time to decide if a chosen course is right.
Search for wealth drives happiness almost out of sight.
By becoming a cruel, omnipresent, unyielding master
Money can force chagrined slaves to labor ever faster.

Then fortune of misfortune strikes as all becomes strange.
Customs and thinking are challenged by airs of change.
Because of fear and uncertainty most fail to stay the course.
Tough the strong forge on using tragedy as their source.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Gift of Failure

To travel a road and never fail
Is to follow a lesser trail.
The real path is narrow and steep
With jagged rock and fissure deep.
Passage gained is passage earned,
Bought with failure and now learned.

But to fail and not learn
Or fail with no concern
Is to spurn a chance to know
Which direction now is so.

Oh, to find the way unveiled
After having failed
Is to sip the sweetest wine.
The fork in the road is now thine!

The gift of failure is dear indeed,
For in each it sparks the need
To think and labor and then know

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poem by Gregory Huyette
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