James Douglas Stevenson




Thoughts of them, thoughts of us

thoughts of suspicion and of trust

thinking aloud, thoughts, spoken


truth builds trust, its never broken


lies, deciet, unfaithful the intrusion


no confusion when fused with truth


they bring together, left, right foots


boots trodden on lanamated floors


scratched surface,perfect no more


leave minds at door, as you enter


who knows, did someone venture


a thought in progress, it`s sublime


inspired all their trustworthy minds


thoughts of this, its thoughts of that


birds can hear an approaching cat


where its been knows where its at


what its intentions are to the mouse

when it has been trapped in a house


pigeons are known as the flying rats

thoughts of you, small grounded bat.



All this thinking does more harm than good

but to any fat thinker my word is your food.


                   J.D Stevenson





      home-grown seed

      As far as we could see

      belonging to you and me,

      are our fields of barley.


      children are staying away

      with no recognition of play

      in our golden fields of barley.


      take my hand, let us return

      churning emotions began,

      walking in fields of barley.


      standing on fertile ground

      wind being the only sound

      blowing thru fields of barley.


      we`ll remember, once more

      our oceans and our shores,

      strolling in our fields of barley.


      taking the good with the bad

      when we are happy or sad,

      hand in hand in fields of barley.


      spiritual friend, lets do this again

      hugging you tightly until the end,

      wandering thru our fields of barley.


      when the birds fill the air with noise

      still hear the breath of the tortoise,

      in our glorious, silent field of barley.










      James Douglas Stevenson 2005



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