I’m called to meet a challenge, everyday:
my manner meek, my slow approach quite tame,
I timidly attack the threshold frame
that guards the gate and keeps the weak at bay.
My mind my sword, my enemy the fray
of a whirlwind day, vortex of shame,
I trepidate—I prove myself thus lame,
for conquest is beyond my make of clay.
But, urged along by necessity, I,
drawing on every store of strength available,
gathering my courage for this gory chore,
breathe deep down and let a tremendous sigh
from my heaving breast. “This is assailable,”
I tell myself, walking through my front door.
Song for Jayla and all little girls who's dreams are broken.
Only ten is she,
Assailable as a child can be.
Her mind will drift with worry,
There's a tear in her eyes
Her dreams are not encouraged
by a mother whos broke inside,
That's her life.
The picture that she draws,
A shadowed image of her life.
The tears on the page,
Tells of suffering and strife.
A little girl with broken dreams
She doesn't have the means, to run and hide.
BRIDGE:
Where will she be in time
What is her destiny,
Who will release her
From this tragic life she sees.
If only for an angel she'll escape her way
To a happier life.
3rd verse:
Only 10 is she
Vulnerable as a child can be.
One day she'll grow to wonder
Why her life is so undone.
She'll pick up the pieces
Or she'll always be on the run,
But that's her life...
But that's her life..fade.....
Only ten is she.
Assailable as a child can be.
Her mind drifts, worry at best, fear at worst.
Her ally is her art that expresses it so vividly.
The face that she wears on the page,
a tear drop just below each eye.
This is her identity. Her surroundings exposed.
Can you see her pain,
hidden behind those beautiful eyes?
She wants to be loved like little girls do,
The doll she embraces wants love too.
Through art, her heart is uncovered.
The tears so vivid on the face of a shadowed image.
She is that face.
Rejected by a mothers sin
who can relieve her from this life she navigates, but one friend she holds dear to her heart.
Untended, wasted and forsaken but by God.
If she can find Him.
When the mountain looked insurmountable
Your uncompromising stance made it assailable
When situations looked so scary and bleak
Your raw determination hauled us towards the peak
When the road to the top quaked and meandered
You steadied the boat continually and we never surrendered
When our situations seemed to defy our prayers
Your rock- steady disposition made us not to waiver
I salute you woman of courage
The rock of Gilbratar and the ultimate conqueror
You are the Queen of my heart!
within every assailable heart-his glory dwells
Heavenly Monoku Contest
Sponsored by Kim Rodrigues
01/27/2019
I recollect we would,encircling a fire,congregate
Brew tea and pregnant stories of ancient time narrate
My grandpa would hours during nonstop preach
The inestimable merits of Dawn prayer and teach
Deserting wintry bedstead and its comfort
Cleansing,doing ablutions and to the masjid resort
Yet would hibernate and for a while snore
Something the hapless,antiquated elder imploded to account for
Instead on the blasphemous devil blast it
Spurn to avoid his assailable limit
Professing satan has peed in his ear
Portending any if to his alibi doesn't adhere
God is merciful and our flaws does tolerate
Gran dad's motto is only spank and flagellate.
There is a moment when the senses fade
their beating on the walls of personhood.
It is the moment when the test begins,
the probe into the secret places of the earth,
the waiting places on the leeward isles
that drum into our hearts,
the flaming places set apart
because they set ablaze
the mystery of doubt.
Such is the stuff of longing,
not the blatant hunger to possess
called forth from every lorelei of greed.
Heroic need is drawn
from deep within the wellspring of desire
that core of humankind, the inner child
that loves through tears,
that hopes in faith
and sends out affirmations of aplomb
to shame the day.
It is the leeward side, assailable,
that draws the kisses of the wind—
the side most ready with its open heart
to sing of beauty, to feed the mind,
to fuel the passion for a truth
we would not see inside the storm.
This is the matrix of a true desire,
the peace to live in joy,
to love in bold extravagance,
to be, that all be well
and even bravest hearts may swell.
~