One

A Magician weaving spells,

Sutras from an ancient text,

A passage from which

Can bless,

Or blast to oblivion.

A shot from a gun

The mind can overcome,

Amongst many other things

I see a way to tame the fears

By keeping open ears

And making the weight of years

Grow into a wealth

For those of brittle cheer.

Poems, Three hundred and more

The recommended score

For those who know more

Than the run of the mill folk

Who can't seem to hope

For much more than

A pleasant rhyme

To soothe their mind.

Here's one right here.

I could plan for next year,

A daily stead of

Rhymes before bed

And remembering them later.

Remembering:

That's the indicator

Of the skills to see

The traditions are kept

By the ones

Of the great family tree.