I wrote this poetry in 1968 sitting at my typewriter in 1968. I had a ball rummaging through my archives of long ago. Time passes on, but humanity remains to repeat itself.
The Key
Among the Long Songs Deep Journey
Among the long songs deep journey
I by chance picked up a tiny key
A little further along as I strolled on by time
There stood a gate that was left behind
I looked forward struggling
With what was left to see
But time kept on passing by me
I stepped back one, two, three
I looked for my key
Where, now where could it be?
Was it there hanging on a tree
Yes, there it appeared to shine bright
To climb was perilous and long
But time was rushing on
The life’s songs were being played
Just as falls were being paid
But through many scars
From many a fall
I held the key sitting bright and tall
I climbed, down, down, down
The key dropped, I fell to the ground
I stood there searching every day
For the key which stood in my way
Then there it was in my hand
Held high to see
The light shone forth upon the gate
That stood before me
