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The Poetry of
Dean Christy
CLIMB THE FENCE
Somewhere in the grey mist rising
Somewhere along the day
We tread into the journeys plan
And share its winding way Sometime within the
magic past
Sometime gone long before
We fondly touch its foggy plane
And slowly close each door Somehow we know we
will go on
Somehow it will make sense
The future is still ours to seek
When we choose to climb the fence Someday the
valley will be clear
Someday the sky we'll kiss
That day can start at any time
When we walk into the mist
Burning
where is yours? Beneath the hunger, hidden
the flame burns, warming,
muse, fueling hearts, wanting
release, rising, out beyond,
mere living fades to rage
filling greys of plain
with passion.
by r. dean christy The
Coach An opening, a first
here, now can only be
once, one moment
a launch, opening
inviting a new path
to an old plan, fresh
to all who share
this face, this first
opening
by r.
dean christy
Change
Morning
moves from night
a day like no other rises
recast and transformed.
Wings spread from slumber
fresh face within new cloth,
conversion of the converted,
when in the time, we turn to see,
the dark turn into light.
by r. dean christy
In a world
that passes in a glance
we must show
strength and vigilance
take a stance face down each utterance
of dominance.
Let our voices join in resonance,
dismiss our path of arrogance
seek to build
with elegance a world encased
in tolerance.
by r. dean christy
Slowly the mist clears
the darkness lifts
I begin to see,
begin to know,
I am here, with you,
understand what you see,
what you know,
grasp, together and grow.
by r. dean christy
Wisdom
judgement without judging
knowledge without knowing
philosophy learned to be shared
principles lived to be given
seeing the folly of the foolish,
wisdom of the wise
quiet discernment, accumulating
self.
by r. dean christy
Sunday spirits
A table in a room
awash in radiance
phantoms dance around
plates and mugs steaming
with fare fit for Sunday
Kings ponder their domains
green returns to the carpet
after a week of rain, great arms
of chestnut and oak grab
for the source of shadows
adding mystery, comfort
peace permanence at this moment
reminding the poet of Kilmer
our thoughts foolish, trying to
write of sun and trees
on a day for Kings to ponder
by r. dean christy
A reach to
the ether above
my head, colours swirling,
a dance I can’t make out , in a room,
I feel I’ve seen before, but new
a reach to the dust beyond
my world, ground dancing,
a swirl I haven’t touched yet, in a place
I will see when I wake and follow
the dream.
by r. dean christy
Choose
to be free or to be scared
find liberty or safety
be who you want
when you want,
choose,
responsibility or ignorance
to break the chains or submit
be the hand-up or the handout, but
choose
choice is not given
it must be taken, protected
and shared with wisdom
to not prevent others from
doing the same,
choose
- the choice is yours.
by r. dean christy
Thank you,
for my affluence. Thank you
it simply makes sense.
Thank you, for easing the day.
Thank you, that was easy
to say.
by r. dean christy
I said I would, I will
stand with you
I said I would, I believe
in you and your path
I am with you short
and long, behind, beside,
on point or post. I said
I would, I will stand
with you as long as you need
as long as my honour will stand,
with you.
by r. dean christy
Warm
place
look not at pain
find trust in grace
and feel comfort
in this place
reach out to heal
lost hearts in mist
bring on the warmth
and spread kindness.
by r. dean christy
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