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Best Poems From
CHARLES M. MOORE
(1953 june)
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169.
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If I had the money.
If I had the money I'd live by the seaside
an old Scottish castle would really suit me
I'd paint in the morning and write in the evening
and save afternoons to learn philosophy
I'd invite men of honour to come round for dinner
and ladies of leisure would visit for tea
at weekends we'd go and watch deer in the heather
and view salmon leap in the river near me
I would have partys with hundreds of pipers
low flying aircraft would fly overhead
Princes and Envoys would vie for my wisdom
and praise every word from my lips that was said
Yogis would teach me exotic religions
scholars would ask me for comments on God
and I would be courteous, and ask them politely
which God they referred to in heaven above
With plenty of money I'd help all the needy
put food on their table and help cure the sick
I'd make up an army of craftsmen and workers
providing them shelter from war and the rich
An old poet dreaming? , a young sage rebelling?
I'll write what I'm feeling for that which I love
you may have alternative ways of describing
but my thoughts are quite clearly written above.
Charles M. Moore
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170.
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If men were made out of rubber
If men were made out of rubber
and women were made out of springs
they could both bend over backwards
and do some incredible things.
Charles M. Moore
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171.
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In the morn.
In the morning, In the morning
as I waken with the sun
rising with the mists around me
thinking of you, what I've done
gentle breezes bring your whispers
with the beauty of the day
fresh as birdsong their delivered
in the morning as I say
Listen to me, Listen to me
walk beside me in the morn
you are everything that feeds me
like the sun you keep me warm
what are thoughts and what are wishes
as I sit alone and pray
in the morning as I waken
at the breaking of the day.
Charles M. Moore
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172.
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In the town called Apprehension.
In the town called Apprehension
where the timid care to stay
there aren't any windows
and the days are always grey
there's a woman who would meet you
but she's lost touch with the scene
so she lives in isolation
with a diary full of dreams
Her friends are quite exclusive
she can trust them anyway
but the dogs that seek attention
travel to her door each day
she can sometimes hear them howling
prowling, scratching at her skin
but the doors are always bolted
when the darkness closes in
She thought she'd change her lifstyle once
and went to a hotel
but she didn't like the coffee
and she didn't like the smell
and the way the men would look at her
when she was on her own
so she packed her bags and memories
and made her way back home
You know she really loves you
but she's trying to play it smart
she doesn 't want to tell you
in case it breaks her heart
or maybe she's afraid
because of things that she's been through
so she hides behind the curtains
in the room without a view.
Charles M. Moore
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