
Spit fire coming out
of her jaws.
She was angry
after all.
It was a scene
that the company
saw, it didn't matter
to her.
Her brew had been
cooking slowly
on the fire for quite
some time, something
she just didn't forget.
And forgive, forget it.
Seems to be a foreign
word to her, forgive.
Her brew was heating
up and the other part
of her brew would
not let up.
When a pinch of that
was added, it was all
it took for the heated
combustion to explode.
All over the place...
on the walls, in the corners,
on the floors.
After that part left
the stench of the explosion
still lingered,
she refused to clean it up
so to remind her of what
a horrid pinch that was added
that day, with the already
tails and whispers in her brew.
Never was good for eating
just for keeping and
she kept it, like she has
kept other brews,
left in the basement
crowding up the space
just to remind her.
Only those she favored are kept
behind a secret door,
no one allowed there
but her and a few others.
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 8:47 PM UTC
I look for something more
when He's knocking at my door.
Grace
Around me, in a smile, in a face
sometimes in an embrace.
Or a song, I sing, maybe a prayer
I breath
Not Grace but Grace
No one looks, nor includes me
I feel alone, then lonely.
I question wildly why?
I want to ask questions, reason
and finally understand but
I can't. It's cold,
I am alone.
I look for something more
when He's knocking at my door.
Grace
Calling to my heart
when faces leave me
and voices silence and the
boxes are empty, calling
to my heart to a place
far apart.
Home, calls me to His heart
His smile, His arms, His face,
His Home,
Grace.
Allison Ashton ©
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 6:42 AM UTC
CALL OUT to the Eagle
The eagle spots
chains mourning
a whisper
a path, driven by
weak exchange
dragons perched
to devour the precious
a will
stuck in a callous cage
on exhibit
the trophy for the dragon
remembering there
is always light
in an unknown place
giving faith in the non-seeing
prison only illusion
faith solution
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 11:20 PM UTC
Stony yet soft.
A two-edged sword.
Giving, taking.
Man's relentless disease
infiltrates the land
and swept into the creek,
leaving behind secrets,
tales, laughter, crying, pain
hidden beneath the creeks mud
Vomiting up stench
from years before
when the land was walked.
And w/o warning a
precious soul is tossed
onto the creeks stream.
Why?
We question the gentle
creek turned to rage and
relentlessly removing, destroying
all in it's path and a precious soul.
A sacrifice, a forgotten respect,
from years before waiting??
And we question.
Nov 13, 2011
Nov 13, 2011 at 11:25 PM UTC
A garden I planted one day,
full of flowers in colors arrayed.
But, as the hours went by
I wondered when these
would rise?
Impatient, I dug them up
and said,
"why have you not grown?"
Then, I planted again
patience was not in my hand.
The hours went by and
I began to sigh
when these would rise.
Impatient, I dug them up
and said, "when, when, when
do your begin?"
But, what I failed to see
in the deep darkness
of the earth, God's quiet working
would soon give birth.
And I held my hands
folding them in His plan.
His timing not mine,
His will, not mine.
Allison Ashton©
Nov 12, 2011
Nov 12, 2011 at 11:00 PM UTC
Let go
and glide
down the happy
tunnel
of healing
forgive
The heavy coat
of care, weighs
down to the
cellular level,
exhausted.
It breaks down the
fibers of health
that holds
now folds
bending
from
carrying too many
burdens
ours
others.
Resistance leaves
and an open door
for a foreigner to enter
at the cellular level.
Let go
and glide
down the happy
tunnel
of healing
forgive the unforgivable
free them from the
prison state
healing at
the cellular level.
Allison Ashton©
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 11:40 PM UTC
A String Pull Away
Do we cry a thousand tears
or die a thousand deaths?
Do we live in shadows
and bury our hearts in sand?
Do we control the heart that beats
or the blood that rushes through?
Do we live in fiction worlds
that only a mass of fiber conceives?
and forget a bigger world
that longs for our eyes to see?
The blinds are only a string pull away.
Allison Ashton©
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 11:05 PM UTC
When a hearts
home
is stolen
it is replaced by
things, that are
unkind, unfit,
luring of lies,
masked in
bone deceit.
A 60 walt bulb disguises.
only
With a swift hand
pushing back the
blue curtain and
the brilliant light
of honesty
reveals masks
lieing
down, dead.
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 10:45 PM UTC
*Oh little one you were created to live
not knowing the pain of
rejection
humiliation
misunderstanding
would come upon you.
You were soft in your mother’s womb
growing and feeling safe
waiting for the moment
to know the one who carried you
and thinking of all the things you would be someday.
But as the merciless poison filled your
warm world
the pain of
rejection
humiliation
misunderstanding
filled your mind
And no one heard you saying, but
“I want to live”
“I want to live”
You were discarded in the dump ground
of others just like you
who cried just like you
who hoped just like you
Oh little one you were created to live.*
Allison Ashton
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 10:37 PM UTC