Here is one last poem of mine, written for my poetry class:
Que sera, sera
Too many say shit happens.
I say serendipity happens.
A telephone call, a chance meeting,
Sometimes nothing more than
Cherries in the grocery store.
Others are planners,
worriers weighing choices, seeking assurance,
Needing approval, fearing the unknown.
Others live by que ser sera.
Not impulsive, but not mired.
Opportunity knocks. “Hello,
Give me a minute or two.”
Que sera sera isnt' winning the lottery
Or sitting on yuor hands awaiting gifts.
It's not wanting too much
Or valuing too little what you have.
Life doesn't owe you a dmaned thing.
Take whatever falls in your lap.
Que sera sera and serendiity,
are good friends of mine.