Poems by John Peter Read

Spring,summer,winter and fall,
the seasons of change
greet one and all.

For as in life,
they'll be many a storm.
Life's seasons change
the moment we're born.

Clouds will appear
every once in awhile.
From a cold winter chill
to a warm summer smile.

In our lives like the seasons
they'll be many a fall.
We have to prepare
to answer the call.

But in the end
our troubles will wain.
When the sun bows its head
and shines once again.

As life unravels,be brave and bold,
Never criticise,neither grudges hold.
Live in harmony,with your fellow man,
Following nature,as our lord planned.

Always listen,far more than you speak,
Avoid all rumours,for it's truth that you seek.
When others criticise,and do you wrong,
It's forgiveness itself,that makes you strong.

Possessions are worthless,it's your inner self,
Family and loved ones,are your true wealth.
Let go of the past,and what else is to come,
Live for the moment,before it has gone.

As we journey,along life's twisting road,
They'll be many things,we cannot control.
Stick to your path,do not go astray,
Every obstacle you encounter,becomes the way.

Positive thinking,no negative thoughts,
The more you listen,the more your taught.
A Stoic person,is one  of a kind,
Gentle at heart,yet strong in mind.

Through life we walk a tightrope
between the present and the past.
Our lives hang in the balance
and there is no going back.

Every journey we make is uncertain
we may fall and hit the ground.
No one knows their fate or fortune
our destiny is in our lord's hands.

Our past cannot be edited
forgotten erased or changed.
It can only be accepted
for we cannot go back again.

We must leave the past behind us
let nothing weigh you down.
Treating everyday as a gift
for the moment is all we have.

God is my spirit
God is my soul
God is the one
Who makes my life whole.
No need for religion
For me to believe
For God is the love
That resides in me.

Those Christmases of old
were much better by far.
We never had much money,
but we always got by.

No expensive gifts
just little things.
A Christmas stocking
a drum made of tin.

A jigsaw puzzle
my mum helped me complete,
A plastic gun,
golden coins that were sweets.

A few new pennies,
a coloring book
That my Nan filled in,
so I never got a look.

Now sadly today
the mystery has gone.
Christmas starts in August
and goes on and on.

Gone is the magic,
the expectation the surprise.
Christmas is big business,
it's become too commercialized.

The man in the Moon
looks down at the earth
and bows his head in shame.

Witnessing earths destruction
by human hands
a world led by the insane.

He knows it won't be long
before our earth has gone
then who are we to blame.

When the man in the moon
looks down for the last time
at a world that died in shame.

Awareness is wisdom
were truth wears a crown.
Where freedom is born
and lies make no sound.

Where whispers of deceit
vanish into the night.
Where fairness and justice
truly see the light.