LIFE WELL SPENT

Where will you be when life is spent.
Where did you go, what did you do.
To what degree of clarity can you expound
upon your life that will make any sense.

What torrent waters did you cross.
What high mountains did you climb. What
friends did you make, what happiness did you
share, what was gained and what was loss.

It would be great if we could retrieve the time.
The time that we spent wishing, instead of doing.
How much hatred can one consume.
How many times did we ignore the signs.

Where will you be when your life is spent.
Did you travel to your favorite place.
Did you commit to your favorite dreams.
With Clarity, can you say that your life made sense.

Before life's unforgiving mirror, we will stand.
All confused over the things the mirror revealed.
At this point in our lives, our memory escapes us.
It would be great if we knew the end beforehand.

We are not the ultimate judge on how well
our lives were spent.

Poetic Verses By Gamaliel H. Gooding
Copyrighted 2010

God Created You For Me (My Wife Elvira)

I am truly thankful
for God giving me you.
Of all the things that I have
asked for, only God knew.

The years ahead, the future
I could not see.
He who created my path,
prepared it just for me.

Knowing that I am only as
strong as my weakest length.
God prepared for me
a pillar of strength.

For you have proven time and time
again, for me you were ordained.
For we don't know the ways of God,
but the end is always the same.

God paints a perfect picture,
and provides a perfect picture frame.

Poetic Verses By: Gamaliel H. Gooding
Copyrighted 2009

Remembering The Walk

I remember the long walks thru
the wooded area behind my home.

The paths were covered with pine
straw, needles and cones.

I enjoyed the past experiences
that crowded my mind.

I found myself sharing them
with my favorite felines.

They always accompanied me
on my nature walks.

It was almost like they understood
my every thought.

The paths are now covered with vines.
The tall pines cut down by man.

Only the memory remains of my felines

The Beauty Of Nature

God created from his infinite source
these leaves from an old Oak tree.

With its many hues and
perfect symmetry.

We so quickly take for granted
our life source.

Why not do one good deed
each day on our daily course.

Reach out for an elderly hand,
a kind word to the disenfranchised.

Lift up the spirit of those who
might have been left by the wayside.

Be like the gentle Oak by the waters edge,
with its leaves of perfect symmetry.

It shares its foliage and tower of strength,
yet it serves as a shade tree.

The Smell Of Your Perfume

The smell of your perfume

preceded you, the

darkness hid your image,

but could not hide your presence.



I, the hunter, pursued you

with and indescribable intensity,

determined to find you,

even in the darkeness.



I heard footsteps, the sound was

faint, but with the wind

came that captivating aroma, I

knew I was close to you.



That piercing sound of stiletto

heels, was now pulsating

in my ears, the sweet smell

became even more defined.



From the moon lit street, I

can now see a shapely figure

moving suggestively, as if to

music meant for her ears only.



It became clear to me that

I was walking down my own street,

and the figure in the shadows was

standing in my doorway.

The Willow Tree

The Willow tree with it's drooping
eyes filled with tears,
for centuries enslaved by the
master's will.

For tall it stood in a stately fashion,
a giant shadow it cast,
with it's magnificent foliage covering
those who walked down it's path.

Under it's protective canopy
were colorful umbrellas,
lavish dresses and songs sung
by slaves, I am my master's fellow.

In the nearby fields, there were no Willow
trees. The scorching sun burned their skin.
There is no route of escape for
those slaves who wanted to leave.

Now, the master is gone, the slaves were set free.
The roads to freedom were filled with joy
and the sun was blocked by Willow trees.

Poetic Verses
by Gamaliel H. Gooding
Copyrighted 2009

The Many And The Few

Dreary days and
endless nights, tormented
by man made dreams
and endless schemes.

Smoky clubs on
Sunset Boulevard, needle
infested alleyways,
and little girls that pimps craves.

I long to rid myself of this self
imposed prison of degradation
of suffering and needless pain.
If there is no effort there is no gain.

I have discovered that my
many friends are few.
The many used me to no end.
The few helped me to begin again.

Poetic Verses
By Gamaliel H. Gooding
Copyrighted 2009