Poem - Bridges of Dreams

 Bridges of Dreams

Spanning all-------Spanning all

Over all the years,

Of Grief and Sorrow

And Unquenchable Tears

Bridges of Dreams

Oft' Times Nightmares

When Horror upon Horror

Brought back long forgotten Fears

Moments of Misery

When all is Murky Black

Labyrinths of Pain

A Mental Torture Wrack.  

Down the long Dark Road

An Avenue He Dreads

Burdened by His Load

The Lonely Traveller Treads.

Slowly the Picture Brightens

The Moon Beams are back

Everywhere the Landscape Lightens

Silvering he Travellers Track.

In the Broad Moonlight

Gone are Fears and Sorrow

Hope, now in sight

For a Bright New Tomorrow.

by Hillie Feldman September 1979

Poem - OSSIFIED ANTIQUES

  OSSIFIED ANTIQUES

I cannot deny that I ossify

From head to toe

As old age creeps on I find

Myself getting kind of slow.

Where hairs on my head that

Were gray have turned to snow

My beard has reached my belly

Button and continues to grow

And although I do my utmost

Not even to show. It seems

To take a lot longer when I have to

For me to get up and go.

My hearing aid helps me

To hear what you have to say.

If you talk loud and long enough

And it’s the right time of day.

My steps meander down the road

As I change from foot to foot

But I always stick to some remembered route

Although it’s difficult for me to remember

Where I have been or why.

They tell me I will be ninety in a few days’ time

Apart from my hearing aid my stick and my

Memory I am doing fine.  Often when I sit in the park

Watching the girls go by I think of times of time of

Long ago before I became ossified.

by Hillie Feldman August 1998

Poem -VALENTINE

 VALENTINE

I want you to be my Valentine.

You’re thin and scraggy ...but so divine.

I know that you're only seventy two.

But for years and years I’ve only wanted you.

I’ve thought of you lately

Both day and night and decided that

      You must be Mr. Right.

If only I could remember why I started this rhyme.

 you and I could have a wonderful time.

FROM AN ADMIRER ....84 TODAY.

 By Hillie Feldman 14th February 1984

Poem- Murmurs of War

Murmurs of  War

They spoke of Peace
they prayed for peace but
war was no longer far away
not in Bosnia or Chechen
no distant place far beyond the horizon
but now you heard every day
words of anger accusations
threats on radio on T.V.
headlines loud angry hostile.

Already the Vultures and Hyenas were gathering
The B.B.C. and other friends of Israel smelt blood
and came along to stir the pot to make sure that
no-one would be dissapointed. Of course they used the
proper language. They stated the case fairly for bothe sides
butter would not melt in their mouths yet you could feel
at the end of the dispatch that war was around the
corner and no longer in some far away place.

Tomorrow Arafat would march in an act of difiance
to test the waters and to see whether the new Government
would be able to handle this challange to their authority.

by Hillie Feldman 29 August 1996

Poem - 80 Years young.

                80 Years young.

I remember a curly haired child

Loved and protected midst a

Loving family of brothers, sisters

Dogs and cats, a wonderful

  Warm world.

When I was five years old

Locust arrived in the millions,

 Flew on my face, in my hair

I ran for cover, while they

Gobbled up every green, living thing.

I still remember, a strapping young man

Going to war as proud as a peacock,

Of his beret and tartan Kilts, Transvaal Scottish,

Aching feet and a heavy gun and months

Of parade ground, they said you’re done.

Kenya, forest green, cloying mud unceasing rains,

Lava rocks, and explosive heat, low bush, dry streams

Flying bullets, machine guns rattle.

Ethiopia another battle.

The stench of death, so sad, yet we won.

The Western desert and Saharan scenes,

The angle of death hovering nearby

No time for tears or even to cry

Your friends amongst the dead or dying

Too busy to even say goodbye.

A wall of broken tanks and twisted guns

Burning trucks under a burning sun

Jerry has broken through, our ammo gone,

Word comes through you are on your own,

A failed escape and you are in the bag.

The wind blew away, years and days,

Autumn leaves drifting to earth

The calendar riffling through many seasons,

Vivid green, multi colors, orange and gold.

          Winter snows bitterly cold.

The children grow as fast as we did,

The wife and I agree, so we move over

To make space for the next generation

It all went so fast she said you’re 80 now

And were still having lots of fun, I said.

By Hillie Feldman  28th August 1999
To my sister Bubbles with love.

Poem -PEGASUS OR FLY BY NIGHT

  Pegasus or Fly by Night

you don’t have to be serious to write poetry

you just have to have lots of fun and follow Lewis Carrol,

or Charles L. Dodgson if you so wish

"Now that you mention it I will have fish"

Even invent your own words songs or swords

Which definitely won’t get you into the house of lords

and be assured that the nautical night need not leave us at sea

BUT BETTER AQUANTED BECAUSE OF OUR DEvILRY.

WE COULD LET YOUR IMAMGINATIONS FLY

 MOUNT OUR STURDY STEEDS  

 Pegasus TO THE MOON

 FLOAT AMONG THE STARS

 LEAP OVER MARS AND NEPTUNE

 RACE WITH THE WIND AND CLOUDS

 OR GALLOP TO THE MILKY WAY

 WHERE WE COULD PLAY HIDE AND SEEK

 IN AMONGST A BILLION DIAMOND

 STREWn;  PATHS OF BRILLIANT LIGHT.

WITH THE SPEED OF LIGHT 

HEAVEN AND earth WOULD BE OURS.

MOUNTAINS LAKES RIVERS AND JUNGLES,

WOULD CROSS IN A FLASH, OCEANS

deserts AND CONTINENTS IN A MERE DASH,

AND FINALLY WEARY WITH OUR TRAVELS

THROUGHT ETERNAL SPACE, WE WOULD GENTLY

FLOAT DOWN TO OUR RESTING PLACE,

   AND LEAVE PEGASUS TO GO HIS WAY.

                         THE END

by Hillie Feldman August 1996

Poem - Memories of Africa

Memories of Africa

Amazing! I glance at a much loved object and the veil

of the years disappears like smoke wafted away

by the winds of time and that old brass bell

fashioned by craftsmen in Africa long years ago

is being sold to me by an itinerant Indian man bright eyed and

attentive. I pay I smile I say goodbye and now it is 30 years later.

On the old oak sideboard marked by the patina of time

 rests a pair of Indian brass slippers ---Mombasa floods back now

exotic fragrance, spices of Zanzibar fill my nostrils -- A romantic

moment, she turns to me, big eyes wide open tell me to buy, so I

exchange a slipper for a kiss.

Forty years ago and she still looks fabulous.

A collection, a miniature brass bucket, a tiny pair of brass

candlesticks and a miniature brass kettle grouped together,

a look of old gold caught our eye when we wandered into a tiny shop,

Simonstown where the Navy gathers in big bay at the Cape, a

Souvenir we told ourselves, anyway the sales lady was lovely, forty 
five years later we still remember her smile.

A hard wood bowl and lid--- Our tourist trip around the Eastern

 Transvaal, the Game Reserve, Long Tom Pass, Grassmere, Bridal Veil 
Falls, we saw them all. We meandered past forested mountains and

old gold diggings, where ghosts still dig for the elusive treasure and

the winter wind howl through the abandoned mines until we 
reached Pilgrims Rest where a huge shop devoted to Souvenirs 
found this Pillbox of wood, we have used these many years.

 by Hillie Feldman  July 1996

Poem - So Very Much Alone

So Very Much Alone

The trees are black
The streets so bleak
Autumn brown the grass

The bright blue skies
Give no hint
That the winters her at last

The Autumn leaves
Are sear and crisp
And fall in steady showers

Stirred up by playful winds
They spin along the silent streets
And scatter through the flowers.

When evening comes the bitter cold
Everywhere the mist enfolds
Ghostly figures hurry home
Some so very much alone
Alone alone for endless hours.

by Hillie Feldman  August 23rd 1996

Poem SAFER UPSTAIR

SAFER UPSTAIR

If Space is matched
by irrevocable time
And Time and Tide
Wait for no Man

Man had better find
His Place in Space
Before another Mightier
Tsunami hits the Deck

Consult Noah

by Hillie Feldman 6th January 2005

Poem - Ode to a stone

Ode to a stone

Round and smooth
Almost marble white - alabaster
You could perhaps have lain
On the battle field for centuries
Where the Philisine's mighty Goliath
Challenged the best
Of Israel to a duel

And when at last
A young small lad
Stepped forward to do battle
With the Giant Goliath
The Philistines fell about laughing
At the puny challenger
To their mighty man of war.

Picking you up
Round and smooth
Almost marble white - alabaster
David put you in his sling
And whirling the leather thong
Approved by God
Around his head
He sent the messenger of death
True and straight
To crack Goliath's skull

And claiming victors rights
David strode to where Goliath
LAY DEAD
And struck off his head
To mark David's Victory

And you round and smooth
Almost marble white - alabaster
Helped your royal to be -selector
To be come King of Israel.

by Hillie Feldman undated

Poem - Whisperings of Peace

 Whisperings of Peace

Whispering, sounds, like the name
Of a lovely perfume
Or and exquisite
Banquet of flowers.

Two lovers arm in arm
With arms enfolded
Shadows merge
Into one.
No loud voices
No loud sounds
But the silken
Softness of the wind
Through the grass.
The gentle sigh
Through the trees.
Adoring eyes lock
With eyes of brown.

I love you
He whispers
Hardly a sound
At such the scene
You would tip toe around
Holy Ground
Maybe God is listening.

by Hillie Feldman
Published in New Waves 2000 No. 9 A PEACE ANTHOLOGY
for Culture, Literature,Art& Society June 15 2000 Israel

Poem -HEY DIDDLE

HEY DIDDLE

IN ENGLAND IT WAS A MAD COW
who jumped over the moon
followed by a brown bull
who thought he was a spoon.

SO HEY DIDDLE DIDDLE
and the high nonnie no
this is where the cat comes in
with a pretty purple bow

I suppose you are wondering
what happened to the fiddle
while the little dog barked
it was an awful riddle

Until the dish got him connected up
with the Radio and T.V.
and now he is a great success
in any good company.
                                           
                         with apologies to the Nursery Rhyme
                         FOR JULES AND THE REFET
by Hillie Feldman  July1996

Poem - Salute to the Founding Fathers

Salute to the Founding Fathers

‘Neath the leaping hills of the Gilboa

Above the lovely valley of Jezreel

Surrounded by almond groves and luscious

green fields of waving wheat and cotton

lies the place chosen by Our Founding fathers as the place

nearest to heaven - - Kibbutz Yizreel.

Here in Spring and Summer the wild flowers grow

In such profusion that the ground is covered  

with a rainbow of sweet smelling blooms.

Here too the gentle warm winds blow the scent

over the valley to where the Dragon Flies

hover over our lower dam and bird song fills the air.

It was here the Founding Fathers almost five decades ago

with only ideals courage and determination chose the

place which we today proudly call Kibbutz Yizreel.

They fought the flies the heat mud and rain and cold

lived through dangers and tragedy of many wars

sadly opened the cemetery in our almond grove

wept many tears yet knew great days of triumph

and joy to bring us safely to this day when we

can proudly salute our founding fathers.

by Hillie Feldman 18^th June 1996

Poem - Tea Time

Tea Time

She said you put on the kettle and I will make tea
Hey I said whee are you going now
I'm just off to the garden to pick some sweetpeas
 slip slop her slippers went as she passed me at the door.

Well I might as well write some more
The kettle was whistling like a tiny toy train
The steam rose  in the clouds and now I could see
The green country side we were running through
The track gleaming bright in the Summer sunlight.

She came through the door with a huge Posy
                purple pink and white
Where have you been she said to me
      and what has happened to the tea
       flip flop went her slippers.

I have been having a dream I said
The Train steamed out ten minutes ago
             by the way I put on the kettle
You said you would make tea.

Again the whistle blew  The steam rose in clouds
       with the tea forgotten I was back on track
With the train going full steam ahead.

Hi she said its four o clock
Tea Time  we both  said in unison
As she passed me on the way to the kitchen
          her slippers flip flopped.

I got out of the train and came to tea.
We raised out cups together
           Tea Time We said.

By Hillie Feldman  4th July 1997

Poem - FROZEN LOVE

  FROZEN LOVE

We live in a grim grey world

Love and laughter have disappeared

Mankind has time only

For Murder, Rape, Arson and Pillage

War and the devastation it brings.

Our media Our T.V. face us daily

 with Man’s inhumanity to Man

Guns blaze, blood pours, farms

 villages, towns and cities destroyed

People homeless hopeless maimed and starving

Little children in agony and tears.

Again the refugees flood the roads

   fleeing for their lives, dragging their sick

   old and wounded with them and their humble

   possessions litter the earth as they grow too

  weary to hold on to them any longer.

Yet there is much love

In the world - - it always has been

 hidden in our hearts - -frozen in

 our minds and souls.

That were it to be released

Like it was at the time of Princess Di.

From the slow moving Glaciers

 of the hearts of mankind

 freed from the frozen wastes

 of our Siberian Souls

From the  Ice Caps of the Arctic

  and Antarctic of our minds.

There would be so much love

 set in motion, it would flood

 the Universe with happiness and laughter

 and joyously ring the bells of Heaven

               for all eternity.

 By Hillie Feldman 12^th May 1998

Poem -AUTUMN

        Autumn

When the leaves do fall

  and the wind blows cold

  and the scene that was green

  turns to russet and gold

           its Autumn.

When the clouds and the sun

  are steeped in bright gold

  and the stories of summer

  have long since been told

When the birds sketch a “vee”

   in the golden blue skies

When they gather in thousands

  to say their goodbyes.

When the shadows grow long

  and the field of ripe corn

  and the scent of new hay

  over the still air is borne

When the silos are filled

  with corn wheat and grain

  and the sun drenched fields

  are at rest once again

When the days that were warm

  are silent and chill

  and the brooks that were busy

  now have grown still.

When the children have

  left and we are alone

  and the birds – all off

  to their spring homes have flown

When the sun dips down behind the darkening hill

  When the mists creep up furtive and chill

                   Then its Autumn

A time for remembering silent and sad……..

By Hillie Feldman  August 1998

Poem= My million dollar Grandson.

My million dollar Grandson.
 copied 23rd March, 2005.


                                He came to me – as blond as could be.

                                Twinkling eyes, - blue of the sea,

                                  Aged three and three bits, – every bit a boy.

                                  Ready to play with every kind of toy.

                                         My million dollar Grandson.



                               We played with trains- he played with a car.

                                Jig saw pieces spread wide and far.

                                   Story books in wild array.

                                   My blue-eyed blond was happy at play.

                                     

                                   Leaning Towers built at speed.

                                   A dervish dance to mark the deed.

                                    He twisted, turned, and rolled around.

                                    Now jumping high, now carpet bound.

                                   

                                  The sun went down-the moon was bright.

                                  He played as if he would play all night.

                                     From where I lay I decided to peep,

                                     Gently smiling he was fast asleep.

                                           My million dollar Grandson.

                                                                                        Hillie Feldman.                   

             

                 Originally written 7th December 1985.

                            Specially for Tal.

                                With love.            hillie

THE DINOSAURS

The dinosaurs have passed and gone

          Down the pages of history

Some of them weighed as much as 30 ton

          Their passing a bit of a mystery

They lived for a 140 million years

         A rather large chunk of time

Somehow their passing has evoked no tears

         Not even justified this rhyme.

By Hillie Feldman  undated.

Poem - THE BOXER WHO WON AND LOST W

THE BOXER WHO WON AND LOST

1939 to 1943, You know, The War

To end all Wars.

The War that was going to give Hitler

His much declared 1000 Year Reich.

and I was a Member of the poor bloody Infantry.

You join - look smart in uniform.

Our Hero is going to win The War.

You go in to glorious action,

  the Western Desert - The burning sun

The Stukas dive their dirty work done

Echoes of Machine Gun fire and

Rag Dolls that were once your Pals.

You survive but now you’re a P.O.W

Only a number, no longer a personality

Two years in Italy--- still you hang on

The Germans are being beaten

Our side has won

But No    They come for you again,

This time Germany is a new Pen.

You survive, for exercise you take up Boxing

As a Springbok you represent South Africa

      to do battle with Aussies Kiwis

      Tommies and Yanks.

Under the arc Lights the Ring --  Professional

Your time has come   You Climb into the Ring

A sea of faces   The roar of the crowd

The umpire says  “keep it clean.”

You face a Kiwi ex Coal Heaver.

He punches you and you quiver

      from head to foot

You punch him and your fist

      feels like it hit  a brick wall

Three rounds you go fighting all the way.

A hiding you got the worst in your life

He won of course - - You are happy to go to bed.

Next morning they call you,   The bloke you fought

                            Is  Disqualified.

He was a professional not a novice as he declared

You have to face another fight,

“Oi Vay” you say I Won…..but have I lost.

by Hillie Feldman 8th December 1998

Poem -Seine Insane

Seine Insane

In gay Paree

Along the River Seine.

There is a man,

I cannot explain.

In full view of Thousands,

With fantastic zest.

He dives from Bridges,

Fully dressed.

In winter, when the River’s,

Icy cold.

He puts on a show

Amazingly Bold.

He pirouettes along the parapets

Escapes the Gendarmes.

Swallow dives into the river.

In to his Mother’s arms.

Every time I see him

I say again and again.

This crazy Frenchman,

I’m sure is in Seine.

By Hillie Feldman

Published in Voices Israel Poetry.  Best poems of 2005

I'd Do It

I'd Do It

If I could live a thousand years,
         and share again the love and tears
                   Ive shared with you these many years
               I'd Do It.

If I could laugh the way we laughed
              or tease or squeeze as we oft' times chaffed
                     or lie with you beside the hearth
              I'd Do It

We shared our Spring and Summer too.
             The autumn leaves are now sa few,
                    If I could share our winters too
              I'd Do It

By Hillie Feldman   7th February 1980

It's All Just Talk

 It's All Just Talk

We sit at a table eat our meal and talk.

As there are at least five of us assembled,

The conversation is mundane and goes nowhere,

Until someone comes in with an item of news

That makes everyone sit up and take notice.

This is Israel and its 2002 and no end of excitement.

One of our people just arrived back by Bus

And was witness to Police cars and Ambulances

 Flying by on their way to Beit Shean, a place she

Had visited only an hour before.

She had brought a small radio-set with her and

Right on 12.00 we hear the broadcast.

Two armed terrorists had shot up a crowd

Of voters standing in a queue outside the

Polling booth, killing many, and wounding many more.

The report said that the Terrorists had both been killed.

further news would be reported as soon as available.

We discussed her narrow escape from trouble,

And everyone now had to tell a story of recent

Or distant, escapes, in which they had participated.

Sometimes we discussed Philosophy, Pornography

History, The Cinema, Art, Personal Health, Operations,

Past and Present, the weather, Rainfall, Thunder,

Lightening, Hail, Snow, Cyclones and Chamsins.

Arafat and Sharon, The Likud and Muslims.

We talked about Hannukah mentioned Ramadan

And Xmas would all fall round about the same time.

Another year would soon be over and we counted,

Our years and realized that siting around the table

The youngest of us was 78, and the oldest was,

Heading for 90 by far the oldest folk,

                      On the Kibbutz

 by Hillie Feldman 10 December 2002

Moon Light Romance

 Moon Light Romance

I’m a teenage kid from the Rio-Grande

There’s something in my life I’d love to understand.

Why I’ve fallen in love with the Man in the Moon?

And how I’m ever going to get that love to bloom.

I have spoken to Space Folk, about a Rocket Trip

To the man I greatly desire,  I’m shy to tell them,

That just dreaming of him, sets my blood on fire.

Space Folk say, No, No, you cannot go.

Until, we know you better.

I’ve received a letter from Space Station Mars

You know, one of the most brilliant Stars,

They have a space rocket travelling soon,

Once in six Months, home, via the Moon.

Pay one Million Dollars, supply your own Space suit,

The deal, they said, would suit them fine,

All meals on the house, including superb Wines

Now all I need is the Dollars and Dimes.

A newspaper group, the Noon Gazette heard of my plight,

We’ll be happy to sponsor your Romantic Moon Flight

As long as we get the exclusive rights, the love affair

Including all photos of the happy pair.

With huge international fan fare, we landed on the Moon,

Ticker Tape, wild applause, and a New Moon Tune.

In a golden silk frock, space suit, haute couture, designed

I rushed out, my Moon man to find.

There he was, frozen stiff, carved in blue rock

It will take me the rest of my life to get over the shock.

by Hillie Feldman 7th  January 2002

Poem - WHAT NOW DREAMER

  WHAT NOW DREAMER

I lay on the bank of a stream in the shade of a willow.

A beautiful warm spring day, with birds chattering and singing

Dragonflies hovering over the water, bees buzzing, the sky a

Brilliant blue, with the occasional snow-while clouds, drifting by.

The Kinneret flashing in a bright sunlight, only a mile from my

Peaceful nest, hardly stirred, as gentle winds moved slowly over

 the huge mirror, I fell asleep and dreamed of a peaceful World.

Flowers, butterflies, bird song, cascading rivers, and rainbows.

I awoke to the shattering noise of machine guns and bombs

Coming to me from a nearby hill, in a moment I crawled

Under the trailing branches of a willow, well-hidden I waited

Hoping that the gunmen would not come my way.

My dreams shattered I agonized over why there had to be blood

And death and suffering, when in the end, someone would have to sit

  down and negotiate, before both opponents destroyed each other.

In a war that promised no winner.

Up and down Israel in every corner of the land,

Snipers, bombers ride-by murderers, take their toll

Blood and tears to much for anyone to bear.

Ambulances streak through the streets carrying loads

Of, stricken humanity, Doctors, Nurses run off their feet.

In Gaza and Rammallah, Jenin, in the refugee camps, Balata, Jabalya

Spread over the PLO territory, there too, death meets the eye.

Wrecked building, burned out vehicles, torn up roads, blood,

Gore, everywhere, the price to be paid for this awful senseless war.

Today again a suicide bomber wreaked a terrible harvest of death.

In reply helicopter gunships, planes and artillery, rained hell on the PLO.

Oceans of blood, ruined lives, broken hearts, weeping, cursing,

Nothing will help until we meet round a table.

"Right now I would like to get back to my exquisite dreams of Peace."

 By Hillie Feldman 5th March 2003

Porm =A Wise Little Lamb

A Wise Little Lamb

Ann had a little lamb
Who joined her at school each day
And when the children went to play,
She studied her computer.

At Latin and Greek she was amazing
French and English  learned at speed
Maths' and Algebra no trouble at all
Calculus a mere waterfall.

Her knowledge was praised to the skies
No one could pull the wool over her eyes.
Ann's little lamb won the school's annual prize
Which brought tears and happiness to everyones eyes.

By Hillie Feldman  28th March 2001

U.N.O.

                             U.N.O.

Maybe you know the latest buzz at the Uno

   Is that Goliath has become a Jew

  And that David in a version of completely new

  Is the little P.L.O. so weak and so few.

Of course it’s a known fact that the Arabs

  Already have 99.9% of the Middle East

  But their appetite grows like active yeast

  And will not be satisfied until they have the lot

                and we less than the least.

By Hillie Feldman  29^th October 2000

"All I could say was Oi Oi VAY"

" All I could say was Oi, Oi, VAY"

It was all rush, scoot, scurry, hasten and flurry

We were at the airport in a terrific hurry

As usual we had left things more than a little late,

Our taxi driver, a lunatic, with an urgent date

Was going to prove that he could get there on time, NOT LATE.

At the wheel, he was king of all he surveyed

Stop street, TRAFFIC SIGNS, were no import to this guy,

He tore round corners leaving long lines, dazed,

Pedestrians who thought their time had come, to die.

He over-took everything, hugging the crown.

While on-coming traffic failed to deny

This juggernaut, with flashing eye, and screeching horn

Chased every car, until a 3 Story high,

Bore down on us, like a threatening storm.

Without a second's hesitation, not a word did he say

With two wheels on the tarmac, two on display,

   shock absorbers moaning, he returned to our lane

   almost touching the side of the speeding “Train”

As he changed direction, with no change of speed

   all of our insides shook like a reed.

Behind us we could hear screeching, brakes, and a thump-

Metal crumpled as wrecked cars joined the dump.

We flew on like the wind, pleading with him to go slow

“You will get us all killed” my wife bellowed,

“beseder” he said “it’s OK we are nearly there, now”

We dashed up to the AIRPORT “never ever again,”

I paid him his fare plus 20 more, I wasn’t sure, that he was sane

I packed a trolley, rushed the family through the door

Arriving at the Counter in time, if not before

“Bangkok?”  Sorry Sir, there’s a two hour delay.

All I could say was Oi, Oi, VAY"

Hillie Feldman 24th April 2000

Where lies the truth

 Where lies the truth

I listen carefully to all the conversations around me,

To stories, myths, mysticism and “Bobbe Meises”

Exaggerations, tall tales, fabrications, and fairy tales.

Deceit, misrepresentation, lies and damned lies.

       I wonder where lies the truth.

I’ve a soft touch for salesmen with all sorts of wares.

Been sold, encyclopedias, which lack info I need.

Mattresses whose springs give way to an early autumn,

Heaters that never see a single winter,

      and summer shades that shrivel in the heat.

Been sold shares that died an unnatural death, the day after.

Books that are totally dissimilar the outer cover blurb.

Holiday accommodation with a glorious view of the sea.

if I stand on a stepladder and crane my neck enough,

                   to see a patch of the blue.

But worst of all a taxi driver who took me for a ride.

Quoted me thirty shekels for a normal eleven shekel trip.

And then short changed me, with trickery, turning my

Fifty shekel note, into twenty, demanding that I pay another ten.

A lying bastard, a bandit, and a highwayman.

There are politicos who make election promises that are never kept,

Presidents, swearing their way into immediate perjury.

Lawyers who part  you of your money, like taking toffee from kids.

International accountants, who Crook the Books, for a handsome fee.

Corruption so rife, that Mafia professionals, struggle to compete.

So many liars in the world around, crooks, twisters and thieves,

Honest men are not easily found. I often ask myself

                    "Where lies the truth."

by Hillie Feldman  22 January 2002

The Dead Sea

The Salty Sea

The sea is salty 

With all the tears

Mankind has shed.

Even saltier still 

and dead as can be, 

Is the sea of salt

Known to all as the Dead Sea.

by Hillie Feldman

------------------------------

Wealth and Death

He was as wealthy as Croesus

Owned ships on the sea

Had money in the bank

the banks belonged to him.

He had homes in many cities

and country houses too 

Diamonds, Jewels and Rubies 

and a Cockatiel or two.

He had horses in the stables

Employed people who were able 

to make more and more gold 

And wealth that would unfold

only after his death.

He heard that death was after him

leaving all behind him 

he dropped out of sight.

After six months or more

Not daring to show his face

at any place he was known.

he stayed away from 

his banks and businesses

and stayed away from home

At last destitute and tired 

he lay down in the dust to rest

Death appeared suddenly and

Said to him.

Hillie Feldman 7th August 1980

Edited from manuscript by Ronnie Feldman.