My Seven Virtues
I am the smartest genius there can be,
So I’ll steal all that I see;
And rape any body at every chance.
While consuming all I’ll advance
To ignite hatred like wildfire,
And destroy what others own that I desire.
Then I’ll have what I want with no effort at all.
Who says my Seven Virtues will be my fall?
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Hand I'm Dealt
I've been dealt a hand not fair or just,
Though in this game I know I must
Play my cards the best I can,
Since the same one deals to every man.
To whine and whimper in this game of poker
Is to lose my way and end up a joker.
The right path is always fraught with peril,
But all other ways are sad and sterile.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Always New Year's Day
FAMILY AND FRIENDS ARE THE BEST TREASURES WE OWN.
THOUGH THE CLOCK REMINDS US EVEN THEY ARE ON LOAN.
TIME HAS A WICKED WAY OF COLLECTING LIFE’S DUES
BY TURNING TOMORROWS HOPES INTO YESTERDAY’S NEWS.
SAVOR YOUR PRECIOUS GIFTS AND NEVER FORGET TO SAY,
“I LOVE YOU SINCE YOU MAKE EACH A NEW YEAR’S DAY.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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On Thanksgiving
Be thankful you can open your eyes wide.
Be thankful for what you see outside.
Be thankful for green grass and blue sky.
Be thankful for all those passing by.
Be thankful for this country so free
Where each can express opinions peacefully.
Be thankful on this Thanksgiving Day.
Repay these gifts in your special way.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Be Thankful
Be happy that you have another day
To enjoy all your treasures and say,
"Thank You" to an Almighty who loves you so
That despite your frailties you must know
Your salvation is His concern…
So thank Him with your actions in return.
Only then will eternal life
Ensure your happiness from earthly strife.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Clouds
Cotton candy ceilings…
Mountains of snowy smoke…
Gargantuan ghosts glide gently by
Hypnotizing skies with every stroke.
Endless etchings enrapture the eye
As dreamy heavens evoke
Visions of another world
Far from conflict and crowds…
A gentle place of unending space
Ruled by a kingdom of clouds.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Love's Cure
Verbal spears birth memorable tears as
Thoughtless comments engender fears.
Anger's aftermath may be sorrow,
But its wounds traverse many a morrow.
Though such injuries heal they often scar,
Leaving pain and doubts as to who we are.
An injured spirit after such a serious shove
More than ever is in need of sensitive love.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Moderation
WHY DO I DO IT? WHY CAN’T I QUIT?
CONSCIENCE AND REASON DON’T SEEM TO FIT.
WHETHER FOOD, MONEY OR EVEN WORSE,
EXCESS IS MY FORTUNE, MY FATE, MY CURSE.
I JUST NEED TO SAY “NO” WITH MY WILL.
TAKE CONTROL OF MYSELF; THEN FULFILL
MY DUTY WHENEVER TEMPTATION PRESENTS.
AVOID THE EXTREMES; DO WHAT MAKE SENSE.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Sad at 65
Here I am almost 65.
In some ways only half alive.
Last week is just a blur;
A lot of memories never were.
Most movements have slowed down,
Though urinary tract has rebound.
My colon is much more rude;
No greasy, spicy… tasty food.
As I gaze in the mirror, I sadly see
A strange, old man squinting back at me.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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At 65
Here I am almost 65.
In some ways only half alive.
Last week is just a blur;
A lot of memories never were.
Most movements have slowed down,
Though urinary tract has rebound.
My colon is much more rude;
No greasy, spicy… tasty food.
As I gaze in the mirror, I sadly see
A strange, old man squinting back at me.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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