TheLeprachaun

A Blank Page A letter to a long lost friend The final wishes of a passing soul A script for a science fiction movie Or just a note; we're out of milk A thousand battles won or lost The past rewritten The future imagined A picture of a smiling face Words written into sound A vision of history and science Declarations of right and wrong Tales of men, gods and shining stars Fairy tales and tragic endings A blank page is a gift An endless opportunity for creativity, imagination, reflection and everything in between All dedications are written upon a page I dedicate this to the page it is written upon, and every one that I will ever use Mart

The Bleeding Shamrock There was a time, when we stood tall With means a plenty, and plenty for all A time blessed with opportunity, When we sat at the table of a greater community It was a time when we believed in the four leaf clover That time has passed, that time is over There was a time when trust was lost Dreams forgotten families broken, all at a terrible cost When words and actions would be greeted with suspicion, And everyone was suddenly a politician The four leaf clover returned to three, leaving a terrible gash that's plain to see Now is a time where we toil to force the clock hand forwards, investing in hope and change, not loo

Its been a while, Guess I'm not done, Let it run I'm just a kinda stranger, but one you know You know we've never met, but that's ok I'm just  a settled drifter, too scared to move Got a forgotten secret, I'd tell you but enjoying not knowing too much Wide awake from sleeping, and stronger for acting weak Just decided to stop a while and listen to myself not speak My home is just a notion that's been with me all along Too much time wasted looking for something to look for and not smiling enough at the irony Nothing's wrong Everything is exactly where it shouldn't be, and now I get it That's just the it, you see? I'm just a

No ... Just thinking and wondering about all that has come to pass It's been some time, but that's just fine, the last was not the last How can I put it? I guess I'll just say it Time just burns, and never it yearns, for what we call the past Just allow me the present, as I sit here in silence, and savour words upon a page Martin William Mason 2013

More, more, just one more, can you deliver it today? We need it bad, we'll be so glad, if help us out this day It's just this time, we wouldn't lie, what else can we say? Please man, say you can Today, today today ... He waits for the Doc, tick tick tock Work's a waiting and the day's a fading, gotta get back before they say ... Gone gone, gone is gone, nothing's left to say Make your very own choice, but don't shun that voice, The one that calls tomorrow another day, Another today Martin William Mason 2013

Finding secrets hidden in headlines Looking at strangers and seeing friends Listening to music and concocting plotlines Walking out on theatrics before they reach an end Speaking volumes through other's actions Completing tasks without raising a hand Leading through reckless actions Following with devoted deceit Loyalty with the worst of intentions We say goodbye before we meet What a strange creature we have become We wait for the sunset Before appreciating the sun © Martin William Mason 2010

Interesting? Extraordinary is a journey I begun Once ordinary was the path that I shunned Did you ever wonder, Why your future you had not beset upon Well it’s the past It had you trapped before you could run Run into the unknown and extraordinary Leave the present of the ordinary Believe in possibility of possibility Reject all paths of predictability Could you be the one in one hundred thousand Or are you as the thousands In the thousands And thousands © Martin William Mason 2009

Threading the Boards Sitting amidst the organised chaos I watch the day’s parade Pondering quietly, the motivations and motions of the performers as they pass. An anxious frenzy, and audible buzzing fills the air and space about me. It’s time to stand, it’s time to smile, it’s time to dance and sing. I choose to sit, I choose to remain a face amidst the crowd. These days have brought us many thespians and far too many empty seats within this auditorium. © Martin William Mason 2009

The Moth Fluttering, flittering, Twisting, turning, Bobbing and weaving through the dark. Climbing, flying, Sinking and soaring Racing to embrace that luminous spark. Mindless yet knowing Ignorant yet informed Pursing the future from the moment it formed A life of such purpose A goal of such brilliance To reach it, a test of will and resilience It passes through shadows Traverses the night To live and die within the light. Tirelessly chasing but one moment It seeks the beauty, hidden in torment. Flying finally into the fire To rest eternally within the flame It has no regret, no fear, no shame. Sloth makes so many blind

Living Patterns Our lives are unique patterns Beginning within the potential of a dream Issuing forth into reality We strive to give purpose to the intangible To give form to that, the eyes cannot perceive We weave our dreams into the progress of our days And wait to reach a summit set high upon our expectations The material is transient and cannot pass with you into the nether Within each living heart lays a desire A desire to create A desire to forge that which cannot be broken A desire to mark where we chose to stand All in the name of eternity and life beyond death We trace the patterns of our lives Patterns which will f