Read The Beginnings of Freedom Page 2


  Within your mind reside.

  Where many lovely days were spent

  While clashing with the tide.

  Nature’s slow, unhurried pace

  Protects its unseen beauty.

  While human answers form a race

  And choke off nature’s duty.

  While eyes, mind and beauty worry

  From me receive no rush, no hurry.

  The Hand of Man

  Time itself can bring no treasure

  For time alone is no true measure

  Without regard to present weather...

  Through time our will has changed the land

  Changing as the shifting sand

  Still, we have not changed the man...

  Advance, advance and if by chance

  Our path is blocked by wall or lance

  Advance again;

  Our victory dance...

  Changed by one great restless hand

  With which the fires of hell are fanned

  Still, will we ever change the man?

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  Always There Is a Cost

  The heart watches time above all things

  And measures truth.

  Still, truth is too often held

  While love is lost.

  Those who are willing to fight;

  Being not quite willing,

  Wait to be called and waiting are caught.

  Always there is a cost

  Even in waiting.

  These Eyes (A Daydream)

  Tonight I gaze into the cold;

  Deep into the uncertain shadows of night

  And long to see the morning’s light

  Shine along the lines of your body

  As you lie quietly sleeping

  Fatigued by our long night’s passion…

  Sonnet #2 (I Love You)

  I often sit with you; restless, silent,

  Living that one moment in solitary joy

  Of you. Overcome because our time is spent

  Veiled by the cool restraint we must employ.

  Endangered by our timidness; like a shy

  Youth that never learned to dance, we humble

  Ourselves before our fears, suppressing high

  Uncertain dreams until they crumble!

  True love is born full grown; strong and

  Eager for expression, glorious as the still

  Rainbow stretching brightly from sea to sand.

  Embracing this love should be our only truth; it’s will

  Should be our dance, its birth a happy start

  As we grow together, two lives – one heart!

  To Stephen Crane

  Being always on my deathbed

  I have little to look forward to

  But hell and you…

  Back to T of C

  About the Author

  Toby Jackson was born in California, and grew up with his parents and two siblings in Texas. He earned a Bachelor's Degree in Education at the University of Texas in Austin. Toby currently lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico with his wife, two children, and four dogs. He teaches elementary school Physical Education, and enjoys playing golf, practicing yoga, occasionally writing poetry, and spending time with his family.

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