An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the
evening to be appropriate for the purpose.
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by
When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew,
I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true,
A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent
Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent.
I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more.
Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore,
The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry,
As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by.
The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane
As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes.
The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave
And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve.
My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war
But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before.
She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside,
And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride.
Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart,
For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part.
Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear
That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear.
The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years,
Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears,
When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew,
And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.
Despite the black, the birds begin
To call the light unto the day,
Persistent songs remind the Sun
To send the stars upon their way.
There's hope in this which I admire:
The birds trust what they're yet to see,
I know I trust you just the same,
And always will, unfailingly.
For God so loved this sinful world, He gave us all His son;
That we might live with Him one day, when life on Earth is done.
No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed,
And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed.
The time was short for Jesus Christ, but what He gave mankind
To lift our hearts and save our souls has yet to be refined.
The grace and style in which He moved through politics and fools,
Has paved the way for paths we trod through worldly ways and rules.
His teachings spread throughout the land, His miracles renowned,
He only had to touch a life to show His love was sound.
Two thousand years have come and gone since Christ communed with man;
And with his dying saved us all, to serve God's ancient plan.
He rose from death, as He had said, and proved His word was true,
That life eternal waited those who choose to suffer through.
Salvation came that fateful day, the Bible tells us so;
And time has shown that through God’s love the weakest spirits grow.
Now, modern times are hard on us and cause us all to doubt,
For change is there at every turn, and Satan’s always out.
It’s now we need the love of God, for always, as before;
Just lift your heart and ask for it, and see what lays in store.
It’s through God’s love we handle change and how it makes us strong
In ways we deal with worldly things and sort the right from wrong.
For change is just another way the Lord sees fit to use
To make our days seem fresh and new with paths to take and choose.
It’s by our faith we live our lives and seek a brighter day,
And how we find the confidence when doubts get in the way.
But most of all it’s happiness that faith’s been known to give
When our misfortunes come to cloud these modern times we live.
We need not fear what God has wrought. We need not know His plan.
We only need to know He’s there, and love’s in store for man.
Just think the words you’d ask in prayer, and ere a sound be heard,
His perfect love will fill your heart before you’ve breathed a word.
No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed,
And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed.
But God forgave our debt to Him, we live in grace today;
The greatest love you’ve ever known is just a breath away.
As long as man has lived upon this Earth
The quest for beacons of light has endured
Primitive cultures, man’s earliest ancestors
Found wonder in the moon’s allure
Upon the seas, more advanced civilizations
Made their way guided by celestial orbs
Eventually creating historic lighthouses
To guide their navigational course
Greeks found solace in a light
Emanating from Mount Olympus
Gods and Goddesses they worshiped
Until the discovery of those truly blessed
God’s light serves as our beacon now
Eternal glow that guides us through storms
And when we discover this light’s power
The spirit of the believer transforms
Satan’s path winds only through darkness
Images of eternal suffering emerge
When we fail to find the beacon of light
And remove the stain of sinful scourge
It is man’s choice to pursue radiance or darkness
The preferred path is usually lit by the bright
For just as early man perceived from the moon
Souls are ever drawn to beacons of light
*For Wounded Words "Eternal Figures" challenge
This misty river, scented sweet
From bare land you enthrall,
To quench the evening's sultry heat
Beside your cooling wall.
Low tide lends magic to this rite
To twirl upon the dew
Then lacquers every sand with white;
And powdered shades of blue.
Tanned cacti swoon to windy breeze
Quite mellow to the ear,
And harmony's drooled chant can seize
This desert atmosphere.
Under the moon's enticing beams
Bright clouds drift out in space,
Life's oasis and hopeful dreams
Are held in froth's embrace.
And never will these scenes be lost
While I here vigil keep;
Till heaven's gifts lie starlit glossed
Then eyelids fall asleep.
. ............ . .
Nature Poems Contest of Poet.Undertaker
8/6/8/6 syl count--rhyme
by nette onclaud
French trader Tavernier in a greed-inspired way
Glared at an idol of a temple in Mandalay
Prying a gem from its eye socket, a curse prevailed
Tavernier died bankrupt soon after making the sale
Louis XIV bought the stone, 1668
A gift to his mistress, Louis had it cut heart-shape
For dabbling in Black Magic, this madam was burned
A century passed with the curse’s power unlearned
The diamond was then bestowed on Marie Antoinette
For wearing it with boastful pride, Marie lost her head
She lost respect from the commoners of her nation
This gem has since been linked to the French Revolution
Cut far smaller, the gem resurfaced, 1830
When a London banker bought the rock of infamy
Henry Thomas Hope survived; the curse appeared to break
For 70 years the Hope Diamond’s wrath lay in state
A Hope heir’s marriage collapsed; his wife evoked the curse
As she foretold, subsequent owners’ fates would be worse
French broker Jacques Colot went mad, suicide his road
Sultan “Abdul the Damned,” insane after being deposed
Then to an American the Hope Diamond was sold
Washington Post owner Maclean watched horrors unfold
Other household members died, but it was Maclean’s son
Ten years old, struck by a car, his Dad’s mind came undone
Ultra-light ray tests caused the mystery diamond to glow
With safety in mind, Hope’s eerie stone found a new home
It remained locked on display in the Smithsonian
Could it be to blame for all that’s wrong in Washington?
Tragedy also tied to raiders of King Tut’s tomb
Perhaps lessons can be gleaned from those who met their doom
Robbing temples, burial sites, outcomes always bad
Greedy souls’ quests for wealth can leave them totally mad
So don’t expect me to purchase a diamond in the rough
Considering this gem’s history, a sandstone’s quite enough
The warrior lays her weary head,
With heavy heart she cannot bear,
Burning tears stream down her face,
As whispered memories touch the ear.
Her armour tarnished by remorse,
Her battle-cry a wimpered row,
Her wounds, of which bleed solitude,
Will never know forgiveness now.
The song began two score ago,
When two came knocking at her door,
In need of refuge from the world,
Of that, and love, and little more.
Forced to fight for every smile,
Her only solace found in song,
She longed for love to rescue her,
And plant her where she could belong.
Jealous tongues are seldom kind,
Self-seeking hearts know nought of love,
The caged canary only sings,
When coaxed to praise from up above.
For the steely spine that now I own,
Forever shall I grateful be,
A gift from her, and from her own.
Courage mounted inwardly.
I'll not forget how I have loved thee,
And youthful memories I will prize,
Til on the shore of His forgiveness,
Whereto now, we both shall rise.
I have found myself at the threshold of death on several occasions. Each time I managed to
look it in the eye, doff my hat and say, “I’ll catch you up the trail.” This is not to say that I
am some special breed of hombre that casually defies death, for there have been many who
have gone the way before me and managed the confrontation in heroic decorum.
Nevertheless, death is not some evil state of being that only the brilliant or daring may defy;
nor is it a release from the severity of life. If anything, death is the threshold of eternity. Life
provides all known qualities, conditions, trials and tribulations that we encounter throughout
the fruition of our purpose.
Oh, death is not the enemy, for life provides our foes,
The ills, disease and suffering… the countless other woes;
For this is as it was ordained since Earth was yet to be,
When life evolved on other planes, the eye will never see.
We all embrace our time and grow in body, mind and soul.
We foster wisdom, strength and faith, fulfilling every role.
Prepared or not, the time will come, our form will waste away,
While life goes on, as is ordained by He who plans the way.
No, death is not the enemy, an end that one should fear.
It’s but a threshold for the soul to doff its mortal gear,
While life transcends its bond with Man to dwell forevermore
With He, whose force conceived all life and is its very core.
It's twelve days before Christmas, Love, and I am sitting here,
the hearth fire is burning bright, but on my cheek they're tears.
I hold the conch shell to my ear and call for you my dear.
Out across the briny deep a tempest cries beware.
The entry hall is full of garland, pine, spruce and mistletoe
The mirrors are all draped with ribbons, the brass all aglow
I hold the conch shell to me ear and stare out at the snow
remembering our last parting, I begged you not to go.
"Captain" said I "can you not see you take my heart from me?"
In his hand I placed a lock of hair, and a mustard seed.
He handed me a pearly conch shell from the Isle of Capri,
and bid me listen for his love song from the Southern Sea.
For twelve days, I've climbed stairs to the widows walk on high,
I clasp the token to my chest and search the sea near-by
So sad, yet sweet the mermaids sang, they of sailor's gone by.
They sang in sympathy, a song of longing with breathy sighs.
The cliff fires burn so bright now, he's coming on the tide.
The church bells are ringing now, soon they'll at anchor lie.
Had he heard me, had he called, had it been a dream I scryed?
T'was Christmas Eve and in the snow, he's landing with the tide.
What, Where, Who
If I where asked the what, where, who
That drives me to write poetry
I’d say that if I only knew
I’d leave right now this misery
But I’m afraid I’m not the sort
To answer in straight fashion
I have to offer my retort
With words of heartfelt passion
For just the other day I found
Encounter gave me food for thought
Soon the words they were outbound
Jumbled as they rushed and fought
Though ne’er the less inspired me
To battle on my way
Look toward the end and see
Which words I could display
Confess do I quite openly
That I am ignorant
Of poetry’s technology
Coz grasp it I just can’t
I wouldn’t know a what’s it called
From a what’s its name
In my mind won’t stay installed
Confusion is its game
But I somehow, find I can
Muddle through at best
Organise a crafty plan
And set my brain the test
For out there I see loneliness
Suffering and pain
A world in turmoil and distress
That cannot stake its claim
I look for every trait in man
Into the soul I stare
At his betrayal and flim-flam
Also the ladies fair
Dear love will always be there
And so will Demon war
And my thoughts on these I’ll share
Of that you can be sure
Laughter I would hope to bring
Sadness sometimes to the fore
Of natures forces I will sing
The list goes on galore
Yes I will write throughout the night
With hope to de-confuse
I’ll try to offer some insight
By giving up my muse
So now you know the what and where
But what about the who
Inspiring people are out there
Who knows - it could - be you
And what about that misery
I spoke of up above
Well, I gave that up for music
Of the poetrysoupers love x
A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
as the clouds dip into the sea.
A kiss from that rose as the waves fall,
over the beach to a rose kissed me.
A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
as we wrap in lovers embrace.
A kiss from a rose as homeward we go,
to a bed clothed in satin and lace.
A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
with passion and warmth do we grasp.
A kiss from that rose that blossoms and blooms,
my hand in her labour pain clasp.
A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
that wanton and curvy young bride.
A kiss from that rose that huddles our babe,
so loving, in motherly pride.
A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
without whom I'd not share my life.
A kiss from that rose who selflessly filled,
the place of my darling rose wife!
(c) anaisanais - A M Docherty - Wales, United Kingdom. (7/8/2013)
If I were a blossom, released and set free
I'd bring you a message, of promise, to lend
With fragrance and color, how glad you would be!
Such hope-everlasting, brings spring without end
If I were a bubble, I'd glisten and shine
Lifting your spirit, leaving troubles behind
I'd fly to the rafters, and gleam in the sun
Fly after the rainbows, where worries are none
If blossoms and bubbles, could take you away
I'd wish to be welcomed, like sweet morning rain
Just for one moment, just to brighten the day
To lighten your troubles, and ease every pain
I planted a lily
A long time ago,
And was given the chance
To watch the plant grow.
I'm sorry to say,
That chance I refused.
A delicate flower
Should not be abused.
It needs to be nurtured
With plenty of sun.
Not shoved in the darkness
Where damage is done.
I planted a lily.
I hope you can see.
That without my presence
A flower's set free.
A wish is hope, all dressed up
A heart that needs to sing...
And I have 3 songs today,
Hopes and wishes, that I bring...
I wish yesterday was today
So I could change some things...
I seem so much wiser now,
A different song I'd sing...
I wish I had the power
To make my fellows see...
That hate wont set the table,
But love is always free
I wish that I could write a poem
That everyone would read...
Something with a message,
To plant a fruitful seed
We all would like to think
That magic might come our way...
And that some Genie just might grant,
Our hopes and wishes for today
There is a tiny box of dolls
On the shelf by my bed
Each doll is for one worry that
May swirl inside my head
The box was given to me by
A friend, whom I adore
It started me to wondering
Just what is Worry for?
Does it serve any function as
I purpose through each day?
Will it relieve my deepest pain
Or guide me on my way?
Can it lesson my misery
Would it minimize strife?
And, will it add one single hour
To the end of my life?
The answer to my question is
Of course, "NO", it cannot!
So, Worry has no place in me
No victory it's wrought
The dolls-- I'll keep them anyhow
And use them differently
I'm sure my good friend wouldn't mind
A new idea, you see:
I'll pluck each miniature doll
From its box every night
And thank the Lord for giving me
A more eternal sight
Yes, with each petite figure I
Shall count one blessing too
And pray before I sleep that He'll
Make anxious hearts like new!
Often I dream of better days
Where it was not so hard to cope
A place where there is peace of mind
And the streets are full of hope
The anger that I feel inside
With days of being stressed
The hurt, the pain, the sorrow
Can all be laid to rest
A place where I can find that peace
Surrounded by family and friends
Maybe that is the pot of gold
That lies where the rainbow ends.
I never knew following dreams could be this lonely,
But up on the hill, looking back, thank God I'm not the old me.
If the tears will fall, let them be;
I believe this is God's plan, follow your dreams.
This once was an empty hope chest,
All my wishes it was waiting to hold,
Now it keeps the things I love best,
As my life begins to unfold.
A hope chest holds things from the past,
It locks away secrets of when we wept,
And poems written to make memories last,
In my Mom's diary of thoughts she kept.
A porcelain doll, of which I was very fond,
My Grandma made her, with care and grace,
She had long hair, curly, blonde,
And a blue dress trimmed in white lace.
My hope chest holds everything I love,
Like old photographs that are looking worn,
And the wishes that I've dreamt of,
Ever since the day I was born.
My hope chest may hold new things,
Like a Valentine my first love sent me,
Maybe, eventually an engagement ring,
And the rose that won him my heart's key.
If there is a newborn on the way,
My hope chest will hold many things,
Like maybe, a baby blanket, someday,
A reminder of what life can bring.
Marching down life’s highway, my feet became very sore
I then came upon a sign that read “Heaven’s Grocery Store”
When I got closer the doors swung open wide
Next thing I knew I was standing there inside
I saw a flock of angels positioned everywhere
They handed me a basket and said, “Child shop with care.”
Everything a human required was in that grocery store
With many commodities to carry, you could always come back for more
First I acquired some Patience; Love was in that same row
Further down was Understanding, you require that everywhere you go
I grabbed a box of Wisdom and Faith, a bag or two
And obtained Charity of course but more than just a few
And then reached for Courage to help me run this wicked race
My basket was almost full but remembered some loving Grace
I then chose Salvation for it was advertised as free
I tried to collect enough of that for both you and me
Then I started to the counter to pay my grocery bill
For I thought I had everything to do the Master’s will
As I went up the aisle, I saw Prayer and proceeded put that in
For I knew when I stepped outside I was bound to encounter sin
Peace and Joy were plentiful, the last thing on that shelf
Song and Praise were hanging near so I just helped myself
Then I asked an angel, “Now how much do I owe?”
She smiled and said, “Just take them wherever you may go.”
Again I asked, “No really, how much do I owe?”
“My child,” she said, “God paid your bill a long time ago.”
In mount caves of the West, rich of looted gold
Sleep scaled beasts of fiery breath and poisoned wings
But son, look to the Eastern seas and there behold –
The majestic and the true, the great Dragon Kings!
They ride trains of cloud through azure skies
Bringing rain to bless the wilting land
Through epochs they have climbed, the most wise
A thousand years clutched in one clawed hand.
It is an orb of pearl that they have earned
Some say it fell from a blossoming heaven
The Imugi that catches it is to Dragon turned
Entrusted with power to guard kingdoms of men.
No wings do they need that flap and scare away;
For true kings don’t rely on anything but their might
They breathe not dark fires; their souls shan’t decay
Carving rivers and seas, they bring hope and light.
So son, you need not fear of the dragons in false lore
That fly through towns, destroying with fire and shade
Instead, watch for these emperors prevailing through yore
These are the true Dragons, and their lights never fade.
FYI: The dragons I am speaking of here are those from Eastern tales -- the Asians have always viewed dragons as benevolent creatures that bless and benefit mankind. Here's a link to a graphic pic to guide your imagination... http://www.mtv.com/movies/photos/d/dragon_wars_082807/dragon.jpg
If I could be the blanket,
That kept your body warm.
I’d be right beside you,
Weathering every storm.
I’d shade you from the sun,
And hold you in the rain.
My chest would be the pillow,
As I eased away your pain.
You’d never have to worry,
And feel unloved again.
You’d never feel the cold,
Within the bed I’m in.
You’d always have a smile,
I’d never, do you wrong.
And right beside my heart,
You rightfully belong.
All I do is whisper,
And hope you hear it too.
No matter where I choose to go,
My heart will beat for you.
Although some are blessed with healing powers,
I can only offer comfort to you.
At your side I’ll be in your darkest hours
when your greatest hopes and dreams go askew.
Of monetary wealth I have little,
just concern, uplifting words to impart.
Feelings of trust are my best transmittal
when you feel crushed and your world falls apart.
For some it seems that friendship is fleeting,
but a commitment is what I can make.
As long as my true heart is beating,
take my unwavering hand when you shake.
If I can make you feel self assurance
when others have abandoned you in plight,
then count on me smiling -- a hope-filled glance --
a nonjudgmental friend who’ll not indict.
*Entry for Brian's "6-16” contest
Christmas shopping I will go
Red kettles at department stores
Sidewalks covered in snow
Bell-ringers spreading Christmas joy
Volunteers bring Christmas cheers
Give a dollar or two or more
For the needy the bells ring clear
Red kettles need to be filled
Goodwill is in the air
Giving donations is what it's about
For those in despair
It's the Christmas sharing and giving part
"Jingle Bells" for Kim's contest
The pro-Hanoi Vietcong many years ago
In the 1950's Diem's government they'd overthrow
All opposition was crushed killed or jailed
These elected ones to their people they failed
This Buddhist country so religious in belief
Now politically torn apart, impending future grief
In the early 1960's with the CIA in place
Discussing with Vietnam's generals, Diem, assassinated in disgrace
With the Vietcong army, growing from strength to strength
Another communist foothold, going to any lengths
In 1965, with 3500 U.S. Marines in place
By December of that year, 200,000 in many a base
These U.S. Marines, in their defensive mode
Over the coming months, peace would soon erode
With the Tet Offensive upon us, and the "Battle of Hue"
The Americans were now involved, this bloody war now brews
One decision to end this conflict, came in 1969
Nixon sent 18 B-52s, bordering Soviet airspace line
He wanted to show he was capable, to end this bloody war
But as the months and years progressed, the body count would soar
The anti-war movement was gathering strength, also in 1969
But the "Green Beret Affair" started to undermine
A U.S. Army platoon raped and pillaged, the village of My Lai
Where civilians were massacred, and many left to die
In 1970-71, Cambodia incurred wars wrath
Where they and the country Laos, were in the U.S. bombing path
Also in 71, there was the cutting of the Ho Chi Minh trail
But arms and supplies got through, this mission to no avail
Later in the same year, the Anzac's withdrew their soldiers
The U.S. also reduced, many of theirs from Vietnam's borders
In 1973, Nixon declared the suspension of offensive action
The Paris Peace Accords took place, peace with this warring faction
Between the years 73 - 74 under Trà, the Vietcong grew in strength
There was no mass offensive, to lure the Americans to their trench
Gradually they marched to their target, to see their enemies eyes
To their city of Saigon, now over a million humans have died
The average age of the American to die in this bloody war
Was just nineteen years old, never knowing what they were fighting for
So many came home from this horror, leaving themselves behind
Because so many came home different, home with a different mind
Even to this day, many Americans look back and ask
Why their elected Congress, feed them to these tasks
The sad thing about Vietnam, it continues to this present day
Where governments make decisions, asking guns to hear their say
To have lived not being loved at all -
hunchbacked like a question mark-
your soul continuously on parole
imagine beauty in the dark
Perhaps we passed each other in the speed
of different trains colliding with the time
in one - abandoned newborn girl in need
the other - useless vagabond and wine.
Was it your Soul who shook the Jacaranda tree
and made it burst and rain with purple fairies?
Or just a whispered cry within the depth of me -
too much horizon and no space for prairies...
Imagine beauty in the dark
When wings demolish walls of sorrow
I'll die again an injured lark
Reborn in Phoenix bird tomorrow.
My Precious Angel
My precious little angel
in Gods' loving care
how often I have grieved for you
wishing you were here.
I had a fleeting glimpse of you
before you went away.
I knew I had to say goodbye
you were too small to stay.
For though you grew inside of me
you were not mine to keep
God called you to his loving arms
now there you gently sleep.
Briefly were you with me
yet I loved you from the start
and now forever you will be
engraved within my heart
and in the shelter of Gods' love
I know you will remain
never to know suffering,
heartache, loss and pain.
I'll find my comfort in my faith
until my days here end.
Then through Gods' sweet salvation
we will unite again.
Once again, the powers that must
In rise again in what we trust
An overseas conflict, another war
Just what in the hell are we fighting for
Families are asking, Korea has just passed
Generations again reft, how long will it last
A country in need, to rebuild again
Flags at half mast, in wind and rain strain
Once again into war, sent by the Washington Post
To send back reports to hit home the most
Military observers were the first to be sent in
Another chapter of man entering existing sin
I'm witnessing our ariel power, Lam Son 719
US planners determine their incursion, saying all will be fine
Along the Mekong River, we'll carpet bomb their supply trail
Tons of munitions and napalm, this spread surely cannot fail
Many sorties are being flown, for the wounded and the dead
Whilst Nixon and his cronies, aren't thinking with their heads
The news of losses has reached me, nineteen have been killed
Eleven missing, fifty nine wounded, more American blood spilled
Seven fixed wing aircraft, more sons in action loss
Whilst back at home more protests, fading the dyeing's gloss
To to this job that I do, I was never prepared for this
To witness such bloody scenes, and ignore that life is bliss
How can I write about a soldier, whose name I'll never know
Killed at nineteen years old, his family he'll never see grow
Or even explain to his parents, when carried from the AH-1
His body bullet riddled and limp, when lifted it bloodily run
I never went back to the theatre, called the Vietnam War
Having witnessed the wanton killing, what were we fighting for
This colonial conflict that started, us on the side of France
So many came back as strangers, many to live in trance
James Fraser's entry into the contest " WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM "
So many times I've thought of you
and whispered out your name
Then drift on into memories
the heartache still remains
I've had a lot of time to think
on how it all went wrong
I beat myself up pretty bad
you know I'm not that strong
I'm clinging to a ray of hope
our paths will cross once more
A second chance to be with you
just like it was before
Tonight I'll pull the pillow close
pretend you're here with me
I'll go to sleep and dream of you
and hold you endlessly
When you open your eyes, will you see me?
Can we understand, this was meant to be?
I know that we both could use some love,
My heart flutters, likes wings on a dove.
When you close your eyes will you remember,
Sitting by the fire on that cold December.
Realize the flame that burns in my heart,
Take my hand, I’ll show you the part.
When you are frustrated and feel alone,
Take my hand, I’ll walk you home.
We can star gaze and make a wish,
As time flies by, we hear this swish.
When you’re alone and going to sleep,
Do you pray to God, for your soul to keep?
Will you receive that gift from above?
All you may need is somebody to love…
I have learned the hard way that people aren't always what they seem,
They look you in the eye, shake your hand, then take you to the cleaners.
It's been many a year that I have thought on this theme,
Ever since I was one of those who got caught by these schemers.
It would not be so bad if we could just open our eyes to see,
That they have no ones interest in anything but their own.
Perhaps that is the way it was and always will be,
At least until we have had that experience in our lives sown.
It is difficult to learn to trust anyone who comes to you,
Since you now look at everyone with a skepticism and mistrust.
But, there is one hope in all of this to take away that jaded view,
A hope that has always lain before us in the dust.
It was preached to us in many a form and style,
The Bible, Koran, other great works of religious zeal.
We have had the words written down for quite a while,
Yet, I wonder if those of us who read them really feel.
The great commandment to love God with your whole being,
Has been a message that comes through the ages.
And to love one's neighbor as you do yourself has more meaning,
Only if we try...for this is the yardstick by which the Lord gauges.
As for those who take advantage of others who cannot see,
I feel sorrow for them...for they have lost touch with life.
They may have great wealth, or possessions, or think they're happy,
But the Lord will meet out His justice to them for causing others strife.
As for me, it seems I have been on a long journey and I'm tired,
Tired of watching these villains prey and profit on the ones with naivete and weakness.
Preying on the young, the old, the sick, and those who aspired...
I was once a victim, but have now can only offer forgiveness.
It has taken a long time for me to reach this end,
As I once was so consumed by the sting of the hurt and anger.
On reflection, the only one who was hurt by my not wanting to mend,
Was me...my loved ones...my family...places where I no longer linger.
I write this now because it seems a necessity for me,
To express my feeling and thoughts on a life that was truly dead.
And to you who read this I have but one plea,
Say a silent prayer for my forgiveness from the Lord, when you bow your head.