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Misty Hoot Poem
I remember the day I got the call.
My world fell apart.
I had lost it all.
I remember the day you were taken from me.
I knew your beautifull smile I would never again see.
They said it was a mugger and you put up a fight.
I should not have let you go out that night.
It seems like just yesterday we fed eachother our wedding cake.
When I remember that memory my hands start to shake.
I sit in my cabin on this mountain with the sky so blue.
I won't leave. This's where I spent my honeymoon with you.
My family wants me to go back into that world, so cold.
I'm not leaving this mountain.
It's where I'll grow old.
They say your gone and will never again be.
Well, I hear what your saying. Yes, I know your talking to me.
You sit in the chair and drink my tea.
My heart swells up when you smile at me.
They say I've gone insane and see things that aren't there.
If I'm on this mountain here why should they care?
I love you more then I did when we first found this place.
I remeber everything about you, your ellagince and grace.
Why am I not in that world full of anger and fear?
I want to be with you on this mountain here.
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2006
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Misty Hoot Poem
There was a boy named Charlie who loved to climb trees.
You could always recognize him by his scraped up knees.
When his mother would tell him to come inside
he'd climb up his favorite tree and hide.
You could hear the siren as the firemen zoomed through town.
They had, just had to get that little boy on the ground.
The people would say, "There goes Charlie climbing that tree."
They really shouldn't say that because this time it was me!
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2006
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Misty Hoot Poem
The thing that's so amazing about the poet's eye is when he looks up he does
not merely see the sky.
He sees the family of birds singing in the tree and the clouds so white against
the sky as the sun smiles upon his face to make the world feel free.
The thing that's so amazing about the poet's heart is when it comes to it's
emotions there's no limit, no ending, no start.
He feels things with courage and bravery, not letting it be shaped into the usual
mold and trapped into slavery.
The thing that's so amazing about the poet's mind is that, like every other poet,
it's one of a kind.
It wonders around and has to look behind every corner and under every object to
see what it might find.
The thing that's so amazing about the poet's fingers that hold the pen is that his
eyes, heart, and mind are in another land when his fingers are writing in the den.
The thing that's so amazing about the poet is well, that he's a poet.
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2006
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Misty Hoot Poem
You had the spirit of a stallion.
You could not be tamed until you were ready
and no matter how life may have tried you could not be broken.
You brought a piece of something that many did not possess to every life,
and when you opened your mouth unearthly words of wisdom were spoken.
You were strong and beautiful and had the deepest blue eyes I've ever seen.
The love that you held in your heart was like something out of dream,
almost unreal.
It was love and confidence and support and stability you made me feel.
God blessed me by letting me be a part of you.
I am so happy that our lives crossed paths and you helped see me through.
Now you are in His memory, waiting to be raised.
When you live again, your mind will be clear.
The fog will be lifted.
There will be no haze.
You will run about and never die.
You will feel no pain or fear, never cry.
Your days will be filled with love, strong and true.
Your last words to me were I love you.
Here I wait, just trying to get through.
I will see you again, Grandma.
Into my arms, I will welcome you.
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2012
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Misty Hoot Poem
Your team catches the ball, runs the ball, and sometimes get a touchdown.
This team of black and gold brought the joy and pride back to their hometown.
You make us proud to call you our own.
Your team spirit you've realy shown.
I stand in the crowd as they scream so proud.
Go Saints!
Fans faces are covered in gold and black face paints.
You beat the enemy.
So far you' ve won all three.
I can't wait for your next game!
You'll put the other team to shame.
If you ask us how we feel about our team we have no complaints.
All we have to say is GOOOOOOOOOO Saints!
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2006
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Misty Hoot Poem
Get off the phone!
I'm not on the phone!
Get off the phone!!
I'm not on the phone!
GET OFF THE PHONE!!!
Right now I'm in my room. I'm grounded.
Its going to be a week of doom.
I'm going to get pounded.
Right now I'm so mad I could spit!
I mean I wasn't ON the phone.
I was talking in it.
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2009
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Misty Hoot Poem
If I were to sing to you a song it would be a song that would set fire to the soul.
I would remind you of the lips you've burnt and the heart you stole.
People do not truly get over the one's they've loved until someone they love more comes
along.
When will he come along and stop this cruel, torturing song?
Who knows? Until then I wait here in this melancholy existence.
I don't want the world. Just a warm, safe, unbreakable embrace and a long, sweet
surrendering kiss.
Until then I cry these tears and sing this song...
Until then...
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2010
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Misty Hoot Poem
The water.
It ripples and waves.
Its soothing to the touch and it runs over your body like an invisible blanket.
When life is too much to take I run to the water.
I've thought about lost loved ones over the view of the ocean.
As the waves ran over my toes and pulled back it was as if God was telling me I'm here.
I see your pain. I see your passion. In time I will wash them away.
When it rains, it stirs something inside of my heart. I know that as this storm shall pass, so will the trials of life.
The pain will be washed away. All will grow new again.
Pain is water.
Joy is water.
Life it water.
Water is beauty.
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2013
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Misty Hoot Poem
Love is an enchantment, a passion, but most of all a mystery.
No one knows how it starts or where it will end
But, once you've been stung by its infectious delight
You want to feel that rush again and again.
Let me start by telling you about a prince.
Their has not been a man to match his beautiful appearance since.
Like most royalty he was not. They'd lay under trees and get thick
around the middle from all of the dining and wines.
He was a prince of adventure who ran about and caused chaos.
He also had a weakness for women. Women of all kinds.
One day he was passing through the kingdom to go to his Uncle's in the country.
He looked through the crowds and saw nothing but men and women with
long shaggy hair who's clothes were dumpy.
When he got sick of looking at all the gloom, his place in his readings
he was about to resume when he saw her.
There a woman stood, honey blond hair blazing against the sun. Her clothes
were torn but he knew she was the one. He prayed that
he would see her face again in another place.
His horse carried his carriage away but the memory of her beauty,
in his mind and heart, did stay.
It grew dark and his uncle's estate came into the moonlight. It was a terrorizing
yet captivating sight.
There were statues of things he'd never seen even in terrible dreams.
Out he went and up the stairs to dream of his fair lady. He knew this love could never be so
he brought comfort in one day seeing her, maybe.
The next day he woke and went for a walk. A woman with a hat was watering the roses.
There was something familiar about her dainty poses.
Then she turned and smiled at him and his heart beat began to soar again! His love! They
must have heard his thoughts above.
They talked as much as they could without looking too suspicious. They met by the tree on
the back of the land embracing each others kisses.
This prince who was unlike other royalty did not care about his beauty and he was madly
deeply truly in love he came up with a strategy.
At night fall he went a mile out knowing there would be no one about and he began a flame.
The flame roared out of control as he fed its vengeance.
It climbed the estate and the people ran out wondering who did this.
He leaned his face close to the flames and his flesh began to burn. It left him scarred
beyond
recognition. His lady showed concern but no one solved the mystery and they were free to
be enchanted by the love that could now be.
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2009
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Misty Hoot Poem
Eyes dry, I look out at THEM. They crawl in the dirt with a trail of tears shedding like a
long haired dog's coat in the summer time.
Anger build up inside of me as I watch THEM.
THEY are the women children of this world.
Searching.
Begging.
Longing.
They want to be loved.
No. These poor creatures do not know what love is. They know of pain.
They know of rising waves and riptides of anger and desperation,
but not love.
To find this treasure that they have heard about their entire life they change.
Change like the leaves on a tree. With every man that comes their way the colors change.
Green.
Orange.
Yellow.
Red.
Brown.
Bare.
I hate the sight of them. They sicken me. Why?
Once upon a time I was one of THEM.
Once upon a time I was lost too.
That person is dead now.
Now I have the skin of an Indian woman, but my heart remains soft.
Looking for happiness, these women children turn to him,
the one that brings nothing but pain. Their Frogs they try so hard to keep on their lily
pads. He swims off to the next one when he wants to get his feet wet.
Yes. My skin has grown tough, but my heart remains soft. He will not take that from me.
I stand strong and proud. May the fierceness in my soul boil over and illuminate the
passion that is me! I hold my head high and walk out of my house knowing.
I have that. I know that everything I have been through.
Every trial.
Every lie.
Every mistake.
Every tear.
Every scar.
Every rumor.
Every hurtful thing.
Every careless word.
Every scream.
Every man...
has made me what I am today.
May the light shine on my face as these tear tracked cheeks raise with smile. May the
strength within me help the others around me. For I know what I am.
I AM A WOMAN. Proud and Free.
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2011
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