Of Mice And Men

Of mice and men
What can I do?
My hopes and dreams
are seldom true,

how many tears could be shed
to fill the ocean deep?
how many songs of lullabies
could comfort me to sleep?

How many words
Could you speak
To soothe my troubled mind?
How many kisses on my cheek
Would convince me that you’re kind?

When we were young
Life’s journey stretched
Endlessly out of sight,
We bathed in youthful sunshine
Never noticing the night

But youthful bliss
Means nothing as the sunshine’s
Growing cold
The sands of time are passing
Through an hourglass growing old

So we have our hopes
And dream our dreams
Through the passing of the years
But holding them all lightly
Lest we’re left with holding tears.

Simon Jones lives in the Macarthur region that forms the foothills between the Blue Mountains and Southern Highlands of New South Wales. He writes poetry and music, and has recently started to seek publication for his poems. He has found an ‘ethereal’ approach to his poems to be important.

Readers’ original and unpublished poems of up to 40 lines can be emailed, with postal address, to [email protected]. Submissions should be in the body of the email, not as attachments. A poetry book will be awarded to each accepted contributor.