"Landscape with a Man Killed by a Snake" by Nicolas Poussin‘Why Live This Long?’ by Michael Maibach The Society July 10, 2017 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 6 Comments Why Live This Long? The thought presents – Why live this long? What more to do, Once sung my song? The arch of life Made sense to me. With work in hand – While serving Thee. Great tasks complete, Hills have been scaled. Success achieved – Opponents failed. I turn to Him, Creator true. Ask guidance now – What more to do? In silence wait For His reply. New paths to walk? What new to try? We seek our purpose, As all men do, While birds that fly Live nature true. Life as mystery – Remains unsolved. God’s hand on us, Our fates resolved. Your Ring What is this thing Around your finger, That tells all men No chance to linger? It’s silver or gold, A-topped with stone, Tells all around “I’m not alone.” It came with vows Of deepest meaning, For upright life – Foreswear all leaning. It holds you tight In times of sadness, And reminds you of Your inner gladness. So, wear it proud Each day be true, As he does his And thinks of you. Our Morning Bus Every morning At 7 a.m., He stops the bus – Just where I am. The door he opens, The stairs I mount. I take my seat, And look about. With Cliff, our driver, I share a tale. He shares one back, As we set sail. I see my friends, Fair Mary Anne, Sally, Pete, And “Stan the Man”. We know each other Thanks to the bus. Our ride each day Enriches us. Of work, we speak, And football, too. How ‘bout those Cubs – Now “Let’s play two!” We share our photos Of kids and pets – Our tennis stories Of balls and nets. We speak of weather, And vacation plans – Of Presidents, And “also rans”… As children grow, We update all. She’s in college – He had a fall… As we change jobs, They ask us “Why?” They want to know What new we’ll try. When challenge comes, They bolster us, On our birthdays They make a fuss! We reminisce About our past – Of days now gone, Whose memories last. Then it’s time To ring the bell, We leave our bus And wish each well. While walking then To our work places, We think of each – Their smiling faces. It’s part of life, Our secret club – We’re now all friends Fingers in glove. Michael Charles Maibach began writing poems at age nine. Since then he has continued writing poems, and sharing them with friends. In November 2015 he opened a Facebook page – Poems of Michael Charles Maibach. It offers 140 poems written since then. In 2017 he will re-launch the www.MaibachPoems.us website. His career has involved global business diplomacy. He is a native of Peoria, Illinois. Today Michael resides in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia. Related Post ‘A Poem’s Truth’ by Michael Stutz A poem's truth, when presently revealed Inside its lines where they had first congealed Will fill you with a youthful ardent joy— Like fi... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail 6 Responses Amy Foreman July 10, 2017 Such likable poems, Michael–I especially enjoyed the first . . . Reply Sally Cook July 10, 2017 You and your poems are among the most thoughtful and honest I have read in a long time. So many people lose the ability to confront the world straight on – I see you have not, and respect you for it. I hope to see more of your work. Sincerely, Reply Alan J. Blaustein July 10, 2017 In other comments I’ve used the word “delighted” and here I’m using it again to refer to your poetry. Your lines scan, showing fine use of dimeter. Your “nonce” rhyme scheme is interesting, x-a-b-a. Reply Joan Fullmore July 11, 2017 You bring poetry to the simple meaningful everyday experience. You have made your friends on the bus immortal. Reply David Hollywood July 12, 2017 Very lovely, and ‘Why Live This Long’ feels as a prayer. Reply Hugh Mann September 10, 2018 PEACE POETRY Religions are based on scripture, which is mostly poetry. So it only makes sense that religious conflict must be resolved through poetry, and not through politics, negotiation, or war. I propose that all religious conflicts be redefined poetically, so that they can be resolved without bloodshed, winners, or losers. So let’s sharpen our words, not our swords; send missives, not missiles; and apply our minds to metaphor, simile, rhyme, meter, and prosody, but not pomposity, animosity, ferocity, atrocity, or monstrosity. Best regards, Hugh Mann EMAIL: email@example.com WEBSITE: http://www.organicMD.org E-BOOK: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BWSW76E Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.