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When I was a little girl
I played guitar and sang
In the Salvation Army String Band,

I remember getting up on stage
To perform a solo - I was so shy,
But I held God's invisible hand.

My Father's big red guitar
Was bigger than I was at the time,
My Mother made-me-up like a 'Little Lady', Boy!...did I ever look so pretty and fine!

I performed in front of many people -
More than I'd ever seen
in my entire life, before,

I sang "Kumbaya, My Lord" -
I didn't miss one single blessed chord.

I wore a long, beautiful,
Ivory-coloured, flowing dress,

I was so young,
But boy!...did I surely impress!

For some strange reason
My shyness disappeared -
It just went away!

Surprisingly, I wasn't anxious
Or nervous - my Lord
Was watching over me that day!

My Mother and Father
Were very, very proud!

Their shy 'Little Lady'
Had just sung and played guitar
In front of a huge massive crowd!

As years passed, when I was in high-school,
I studied piano after school every Wednesday,

Music, roller skating, and poetry
Were the highlights of my every, single, living, Breathing day!

Not much has changed,
I still know how to play,

I still have a pair of skates,
And I still live and breathe poetry
Every single day!

By Lady R.F ©2016
Kumbaya
The Seekers
(*** ba ya) ("Come by here")
Lyrics
Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya;
Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya;
Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya;

Oh, Lord, kumbaya.
Someone's cryin', Lord, kumbaya;
Someone's cryin', Lord, kumbaya;
Someone's cryin', Lord, kumbaya;

Oh, Lord, kumbaya.
Someone's singin', Lord, kumbaya;
Someone's singin', Lord, kumbaya;
Someone's singin', Lord, kumbaya;

Oh, Lord, kumbaya.
Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya;
Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya;
Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya;

Oh, Lord, kumbaya.
Kumbaya.

Written by John Phillips, Richard Weissman, Scott Mckenzie • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc
Some poems walk with me,
Some poems simply talk to me,
Some poems reach out to me,
Some poems scream and shout at me,
whilst some poems eventually grow on me.

Some poems slow dance with me,
Some poems enchant me - they are
breathtakingly mesmerising to me,
Some poems captivate me after hijacking me,
Some poems rip my heart out
and break every single piece of me.

Some poems absolutely impress me,
Some poems couldn't care less about me,
Some poems embrace every inch of me,
Some poems share my soul with me.

Some poems inspire me and motivate me,
Some poems **** the very life out of me,
Some poems resonate with every fibre of me,
Some poems switch a little light on for me.

Some poems will forever live inside of me,
Some poems twist themselves and lie to me,
Some poems are open and honest with me,
Some poems...are just like people to me!

By Lady R.F (c)2016
May the bright light

Which forms a shadow

Around the moon,

Shine its gentle glowing shadow

Forever

Around all of you!

By Lady R.F ©2016
Today,
I almost remembered what it felt like to cover my heart and blanket my soul ~ Almost!

Today,
I almost fell back to sleep on catching my stars and achieving my goals ~ Almost!

Today,
I almost forgot how to practice what I preach, when I thought for too long ~ Almost!

Today,
I almost forgot all of the words I had written
to my daily song ~ Almost!

Today,
I felt sorrow, until I remembered that tomorrow was nearer than far ~ Almost!

Today,
I pray for a tomorrow, regardless of any sorrow, for this life is but a shooting star ~ Almost!

By Lady R.F ©2016
Nothing matters to Me
except everything!

I don't know anything,
but I know something about everything!

It's no wonder why
Me and I
fight all of the time!


by Lady R.F ©2016
Holding on to precious memories
Ever so tightly,
Whilst haunted by "The Big Finale"
Daily and nightly.

Anxiety is the heart's painful pounding beat,
Fear of time slipping away - having it ripped From under one's feet.

Years feel like days,
Months feel like minutes,
Precious moments escaping,
Bound and confined by limits.

Life now resembles
Only a few remaining quick blinks of the eyes,
Trying not to dwell
On the sad,
Cold,
Hard,
Depressing facts;
Suppressing tears - internal
Are the soul's echoing cries.

By Lady R.F ©2016
I do not need,
nor do I ever want
anyone to quiet or silence my mind...

I want to paint a picture
with every colour
that is alive,
that is screaming out loud,
that is dying to come out proud,
whilst it resides inside me.

The only way
that I can possibly do this articulately
is by speaking the only fluent language
that I know - the language of Poetry.

~ I only speak Poetry.

By Lady R.F ©2016
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