On this day of gratitude and thanks giving,
I want to say that I'm insanely grateful for
Hello Poetry and all the poets who share it
with me.  Knowing I can write my feelings
and emotions and share them with other
like-minded souls has been an almost religious 
 blessing in my life.  And I want to thank you
all, each and every one of you.
And wish you a very
                         HAPPY  THANKSGIVING

All that I am I give to you this day,
That you may share in all that I ever shall be.
                                      Ls

I knocked on numerous doors before
But never was let inside
Until I found you.
Now I discover pathways open
That were invisible to me before,
And thank you.

I turned away from so many things
That couldn’t be understood
Before I knew you.
Now suddenly a pattern forms
And life begins to make sense when
Shared with you.

I gave my memories away
To people who couldn’t use them
Previous to you.
Now each episode becomes a part
Of the growing treasure that is my
Life with you.

I was hungry and cold and sad and tired
Before you saved me.
Now I’m filled with warmth and joy and strength -
All the gifts you gave me.
Ls

In a bowered place that only
Pixies know about
Tucked down between
The weeping willow’s boughs,
And not far from a singing rivulet
There lives a butterfly with gorgeous wings,
Transparent in the morning sun  
And luminous at twilight.
Her wings are patterned in chartreuse
With royal purple fantasies
That end in trailing gossamer.
Feeding on the buttercups and clover,
Her afternoons are bathed in a tranquility
That obviates the need to fly.
And so the gentle butterfly does not,
But rests and ponders what is on the breeze
That transforms air to symphonies
And blends with everything nearby
To make a perfect potpourri
Of serenity and peace.
ljm

Small pages, rimmed with foreign sounding orders
Splash on ink to make them monumental.
Block the wind that wafts them into yesterday
Where all the pills can’t heal a ****
That will not hold the stitches.

Little notebooks filled with sentences
Dug at great pain from a bruised and bloodied brain
Determined to lock away any sheen and glitter
On the every day and Sunday-Go-To-Meetin’ words
That put emotion on a platter instead of in a locked vault.
ljm

She wondered if there’d come a time
God wouldn’t call her any more.
A time he’d say “I’m done with her
She won’t give up her sinful ways”.

She puts on holiness like rouge
And thinks good works will pay her way
But in her heart duplicity
Obscures the path she needs to walk.

She reaches out with ***** hands
To touch the spotless hem of faith
In hoping for a miracle -
That God still recognizes her.

But God has turned his face away
He’s knocked her door too many times
To find it opened just an inch

My life, she said, is so akin
To a twisted, knotted piece of yarn
Tied around an unknown object
Hanging from a broken limb
Blown by whirling, dusty wind
That never ever makes a sound.
                           ljm