The Solitary Buck

A buck exploring his way,
In a vast desert on a sunny day,
Far off, on the horizon,
He see’s it shine.
The shimmer, the luster, of Water, of Wine
Delighted, Excited, He runs towards the drink
Panting, puffing, when he reaches the brink.
The Wine runs further, the Water flows away.
In another direction, he sees them sway.
He wishes to seize, conquer and own it,
With all his determination, passion and grit.
He Runs, Walks, Runs and Stops,
No Water, No Wine, No Champagne pops
He soon finds his mistake,
His thirst, desire, respect at stake.
Leaves the water, forgets the wine.
Stops the Sulks, halts the Whine.
Uses the force, to scoop a new trench,
Digs hard, finds water,
The thirst begins to quench.

Material World

As a matter of fact,

We be immaterial to,

Those who don’t matter,

Material, to those who do.

As a matter of concern,

Matters with those that don’t matter,

Matter to us,

In spite of those who don’t matter,

Know nothing that matters.

However, in a matter of time,

All shall eventually know,

Matters with those that matter,

Shouldn’t matter, as

Those who matter,

Know what matters.