Monthly Archives: February 2015

What I Am

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I love to sit in the grass and admire the scene 
While the trees gently sway in a warm summer breeze
Enjoying the clouds and the smell of the air 
My heart starts to dream, I can go anywhere 

A king only wishes he could have it so good. 
I can travel afar from this place in the woods
The things I desire will always work out. 
There’s never a question and never a doubt

Should a person depend on passion so much?
Does it keep satisfaction out of my touch?
But poems and songs settle my mind
Feelings of ardor; inspired, sublime  

I am a passion, with logic a cloak 
A part is a dream the rest is a hope
I’m making a way in this world so dire 
By using these words and sharing the fire. 

At Least

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We’ve always been known as stubborn 

That’s what I find delightful 
But I didn’t think you’d act this way
As a thought inside my head  

It’s always the same old pattern
Refusing to leave at times 
I try not to love the way
You come back to have a last word

A story for a couple of bookworms
But action makes us all fools
Impressions are hard to remove
At least we can say that we try

A Kind Man

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If you’ve fallen in love with a man who is kind

Most people you meet are careless and blind
Don’t think for a minute that care makes him weak
To stop an offense he’s the first one to  speak
When his kind eyes are furrowed you best not engage 
But he doesn’t take pleasure in using his rage 
He’ll distance himself from malice and strife
Since heartfelt joy is his mission in life 
He’ll look after your heart the best way that he knows
If it causes him pain he won’t let it show  
He may respond slow since he thinks all things through
But whatever he does will be the best thing for you. 
Those who he loves shouldn’t worry or fret
His heart is steadfast and he never forgets. 








Whistling

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I held a gift so close 

Its life began to crumble

Every time I held it 
I always seemed to fumble
So I stand afar 
Admiring yet perplexed
How a gift that brings such joy 
Can also be so vexed
The answers can’t be found
In an atmosphere of gloom
So my hands are in my pockets
And I’m whistling a tune 





Mornings

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Mornings come where all is well

No matter how the darkness fell
A ray of light comes piercing through
Reminding us each day is new
We have a book with open pages
Walls to scale if we’re courageous 
Days for us to fill with song
And nights give us the dawn. 

The Mystery

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I put my mind to a mystery 

About the feelings we call love
Does God hold a store?
Where he slowly gives it out
Or is it always within reach?
Are we are the ones with limits
Slowley absorbing a little at a time
It seems that way sometimes 
Especially when we lose love 
The loss tears us apart inside
And doesn’t leave enough love to give 
But it’s supposed to come back
Not so pleasant feelings creep in 
To fill in the void left in a heart
And we beg for feeling to return
To replace the cold trying to settle in
It takes a slow soak in thankfulness
To help remove the numbness
We want to be good stewards 
With a directive to meter it out
To those it belongs to 
But love goes where it wants 
It isn’t easily directed