Gadarowski Michael Poems

Still the thought, to walk in fear.
Tis love must carry thee o’er.
But can I rightly chart my course
When perched upon this bier.
...

The gates to earth are closing,
To many every day
Unwanted, unloved millions
We’re turning them away.
...

Beads, water, wet
Running down mountains of flesh,
Into a warm sea,
Whose white porcelain banks
...

The earth it plays a symphony.
I see it every day.
I taste the very notes of life,
As I go on my way.
...

To Hope

Was it a week, or just a day
When joy so sweetly
...

A donkey standing
In a field by a fence,
Standing all alone
Without any friends
...