Hello shelfari! I have recently read a book that has motivated me to become more quiet and peaceful and to seek my inner soul. I have decided to rewrite my personal description so that it will match my goal. I have also changed my name to something from the same book, because I believe like in the book that Mr. Kool-Aid spreads happiness and joy throughout the world, not in calories and sugar, but in feelings and ideas. You might realize that some of my groups or things that I read seem rather violent (I am very interested in military history), but is the past, and though the past repeats we should still try to make peace with all. We should make eternal peace with our enemy and friend forever and ever.
I am going to create a group for followers who have the same goal. I welcome you to join I and hope you have a good time!
Here are some poems I have written to entertain you.
In the newborn wheat
In the newborn wheat
Crickets hum their nightly songs
sweet on a black river
Amongst the grass
Amongst the grass I sat.
In the fiery heat of summer.
As the cool breeze blew on my face,
I looked up at the trees.
And as the they waved back at me,
I wondered.
What is possible in life,
and what is not.
For I ask you here today,
at this very hour,
and at this very minute.
If everything is possible,
is the impossible possible?
And if everything is impossible,
is the possible impossible?
Now I shall leave you to ponder this thought.
Farewell to you dear reader,
as we go along our separate paths
of life.
Til Kingdom Come
Where art thou,
o eye of the night?
Shining mystically,
ever so bright.
Looking down,
upon those who sleep.
Dreaming dreams,
ever so deep.
Across great grassy hills,
and over deep blue river.
Timeless is the land,
as the earth begins to wither.
The trees seem to dance,
in time with the wind.
And as if in a trance,
the green grass sways.
The stream keeps the beat,
against the rounded old rocks.
Giving the cold night,
a grand little treat.
The ancient fences creak,
along the side of the dusty dirt road.
And under the stone bridge,
croaks the occasional toad.
In the dense undergrowth,
chirp the night crickets.
And the humming of cicadas,
comes through the wooden pickets.
Wolves give a deep howl,
at the jewel that is the moon.
From upon the flat rock,
on which their cold kill is hewn.
Under the battered porch,
the mangy tomcat growls.
And in an oak tree,
hoots the wise owl.
Farm animals restless,
in the freezing cold.
Lie in the barn,
from days of old.
The smell of fresh apples,
comes the orchard grove.
And the scent of corn,
wafts from the ground where it grows.
These create,
a sweet lullaby.
For anyone,
who passes by.
This keeps the beat,
throughout the night.
For sleepers, animals,
and all alike.
And along comes day,
then the moon shuts its eye.
Morning birds chirp,
and get ready to fly.
Hark the day,
and the end of the night.
Welcome all people,
the renewal of light.
Let men till the promised,
that brings forth their daily bread.
And make peace with others,
until they are dead.
Yet again comes the night,
so dark in its presence.
Yet so festive in a light,
with a peaceful kind of essence.
The cycle will flow,
till the end of time.
And will always repeat,
like a verse’s rhyme.
Good to all mankind,
let the night have its fun.
Let us sleep till morning,
until kingdom come.
The Spot
One day as I
strolled down the path,
in the stifling heat of summer.
I passed both
bush and tree.
Then I came along
a spot,
that I had not
seen before.
Through the
undergrowth,
was hidden
a path,
that led to a solitary hill.
And upon it was
a weeping willow,
that overlooked
the road.
And I have kept this spot
my own,
for it was meant to be.
Branch Over River
Wooden arm stretches over
in its palm are many red leaves
that dapple the lazy river.
In the River’s Reeds
In the the river’s reeds
Hides the orange spotted koi,
For above looms the crane.
My Cat Napping
A shaft of sunlight
Cascades through my only window
Revealing my cat’s bed.
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