Life of an underground lyrical beast looking great
But one can imagine attempting to get the sure rate
To succeed, one's got to really hustle
And, yes, Life is pregnant with some kind of bustle!
Striving makes us great
But, How'd I get there, mate?
Nonstop hustle is, I trust, the sure key
But, first for God, I've got to be on my knee
If not both!
......
It was late in gorgeous springtime, and I was teaching my class,
A lesson in African history, and the events of time's hourglass.
My fourth graders were very attentive, as I recounted the glory,
Of tales such as Mansa Musa's, maybe the richest man in history!
Sultan of Mali was Mansa Musa, during the far off Middle Ages,
The world's largest gold producers maybe, say the history sages.
When Mali consisted of 400 cities, he was a patron of the arts.
......
After wishing me a good morning, he said that it was all set,
It was time to raze the house, even though I wasn't in debt!
But they wanted to build a big highway, exactly in this spot,
Like a beaver zealously builds his dam, by any means he's got.
The city had emminent domain, which was certainly the way of it.
Though offered twice the home's value, I liked it not one bit.
"The tree on this lot is a hundred years old," I said to the man,
......
I was pretty talkative, and spent all of my days chit chattering,
Like galaxies of glinting stars, all the dark universe scattering.
I was always on the move, and loved cacophonic sights and sounds,
Like the deep thrill of excitement, when the carnival is in town!
People loved my easy laughter, and they said I was a lot of fun,
Like the fun of a storm's passing, when greeting the citrine sun!
I did not like the silence, for the silence would make me blue;
......
I was once something of a pessimist, and that fact did not concern me,
As violet birds are content, to spend their nights in different trees.
Still I had a happy and quiet existence, or at least I thought I did,
Like a moon glimmering all her tranquil life, when reddish sun is hid!
My attitude didn't come from bitterness, I just had an analytical mind;
And like bees searching for nectar, needed all the proof I could find.
But I totally missed the fact, that looking to tomorrow requires faith,
......
Life of an underground lyrical beast looking great
But one can imagine attempting to get the sure rate
To succeed, one's got to really hustle
And, yes, Life is pregnant with some kind of bustle!
Striving makes us great
But, How'd I get there, mate?
Nonstop hustle is, I trust, the sure key
But, first for God, I've got to be on my knee
If not both!
......
Amaryllises fill the flower lover's small, white cottage,
In pinks, apricots and burgundy, near summer's edge.
A rich harvest of bliss, in every hue comes drifting down,
Painting the wilderness all colors, in nature's playground!
Sweet sun is setting scarlet as red fruit on high,
In a sizzling beauteous exit-apple pie in the sky!
We are caught up in the middle, of our passionate love affair,
In a world still so young, sweet dreams can blossom anywhere!