Growing up I was always told:
"Jonesy, you will change the world, I hope they're ready."
I was sold on the idea and held fast to it ,
I was there, awaiting jubilantly my future duty.

Growing up I was never informed:
"Jonesy,this world will change you"
Appauled that after trying so hard to know your character  
The world just change the script.

Growing up I should have been notified:
"Jonesy, life offers you more pain than joy"
Slowly, I realized that and I cherished those beautiful moments,
And dearly I did.

I know now what I was never told then,
Life is stressful; it is relaxing;
Life brings obstacles; it brings you aid,
But most importantly, Life is what you make of it.

Jonesy 2017 ©

How strange, the pull that tugs my heart, toward a distant sea.

How haunting are the sound of sea gulls crying eerily.

The allegory still remains, of timeless waves in life

Turning rock to shifting sands, the sea winds, like a knife.

And yet, amidst the turbulence, serenity and love

The struggle of the sea and shore, that fits so like a glove.

The music breaks my heart in two, this ballad by the bay.

And I shall hold it in my soul, this song we used to play.

I still can hear the rollers as they broke upon the beach.

And even though I’ve gone back home, my memory, they reach.

I would swim a never-ending ocean,
Climb a mountain
That reaches into the sky,

Hike through treacherous bushlands,
I would challenge any staircase, Regardless of how high!


I would inhale the Earths atmosphere,
I would pocket every galaxy and star,

I would drain every deep-sea,
Lake, lagoon and river,
Anything to keep them nearer,
Rather than far!

I would fly to the edge of reality,
I would hitchhike across the globe,

I would skydive from the heavens,
I would carry a mountainous load...

To be with my five precious daughters. .

By Lady R.F. (C)2017

Only when we become a Mother
Do we truly understand
How much pain comes
With unconditional love,

It is only then
That we realise
How much it hurts
To be rejected
When push comes to shove.

To be taken for granted
Unintentionally,
Or not,

To be disrespected,
Misunderstood,
And talked-down-to, alot.

Only when we become a Mother
Do we fully comprehend
That our Mothers
Did the best that they could,

They, too, just like us,
Had their own issues
To deal with;
They didn't burden us,
We wouldn't have understood!

They cried just as much
As they smiled--if not more!
They gave more than
They ever received,

They placed everyone's needs
Before their own--since the day
That we were conceived.

They held back tears
Whenever we upset them,

They died inside
Whenever we neglected them
And disrespected them.

Whenever we patronised them -
Whenever we were condescending,

Whenever we blammed them -
Whenever we took them for granted -
When we gave no thought
Nor tried to be understanding.

They only ever wanted
The best for us -
They gave of themselves
Completely;
Something nobody else
Was ever capable of,
Or willing to do!

Only when we lose our Mothers
Do we live with the regret,

A true blessing,
A pure love we were given--
Irreplaceable;
Our first real love,
The one love
We will never,
Ever,
Replace or forget!

By Lady R.F. (C)2017

I sat there in pain waiting for my little being
I heard you scream
My heart couldn't breathe
The moment your blues locked with mine you were my everything
My crazy baby,
strong and full of love
I knew you could do anything
Jumping off of what you could find,
you make my anxiety climb
Yet I only see my sweet baby
You grow nightly
I know it's the routine
Yet I cry
I cry because I know one day you won't need me
I know you will grow,
becoming something
I only hope to water your dreams so they to will grow, being;
honest
sweet and
true
Mommy loves you

She has been fighting herself,
Holding herself back.  

The urgent innate feeling
To release these emotions
That she hides,
Is so strong.
It is eating her alive.

She is struggling
To keep these burdening,
Painful,
Heavy,
Emotions
Buried
Deep
Down
Inside.

If she were
To be overpowered
And defeated
By this feeling,
And if she went ahead  
To begin to try to transfer
These disturbing feelings
From her heart,
And from her soul,
Into her mind,

Where she would then
Transform them into words -
Words that would surely struggle
As they drip through her pen,
Staining her paper
With blood-red ink--tears...

These words would surely
Be too dark -
The ink would surely
Run through every page,
Beneath the sheet
In which she writes;
Soaking through each one of them,
Right down to the desk
In which they rest--staining it;
Hence, draining her pen.

They would surely
Be too heavy  -
The paper would not withstand
Their hefty weight -
The ink would dampen the sheet,
Tearing it,
Beyond repair.

The same way
These emotions
Have torn through her heart -

The same way
They have tattered
And stained her delicate soul.

The same way
He broke her lively spirit
Into peices
With his crushing words.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017