Why does love, seem far away,
when she sits so close to you?
so cold at times, like the moon,
romantic at a distance too.

When her sun begins to shine,
I've forgotten all the rest;
I curl myself into her arms,
my head, upon, her breast.

Love does crazy things to you,
if you try to understand;
what's in her heart and mind,
don't try to change it's plan.

She what she is and so are you,
accept that and be glad;
for you never had, such a love,
of all the ones you've had.

Love is not to analyze,
that only brings it down;
love is to enjoy your world,
no matter where it's found.

Six minutes passes quickly,
so here's what I want to say -
God bless my fellow poets,
who rant and rave their say.

Who offer up their talents,
to share their cares and woes;
to inspire other writers,
and not step on their toes.

Who struggle with each word,
to say what's on their mind -
to give vent to their feelings,
to others, self, and mine.

Who preach the way of poetry,
that calms the mind and soul;
that examination of the heart,
that often makes them whole.

My six minutes now is up,
so I say a fond farewell -
to the poets, everywhere,
may the day for you be well.

Father, I will know you,
much better after death;
when my soul has died,
when I've taken my last breath.
For all of us must die,
before we truly live;
and like your precious son,
our souls to you, we give.
And in our offerings,
we have expectant hope;
that in what we all encounter,
with You alone, we cope.
Down on earth, below,
we all must pass Your test;
knowing that which follows,
will surely be the best.
Your blessed word is
our great light,
that sees us through,
life's constant fight.
A lamp that shines forever,
for our hurried feet;
where hearts and minds
are mended,
to the glory that we'll meet.
You are the true, eternal dream,
that we can clearly see;
we ask that You do keep us,
in Your sacred memory.

Morning sun, entering the sky,
bright and clean and fresh;
promises of warmth ahead,
as the hours of midday mesh.
The Spring of a new year,
lies dormant, full of hope;
the promises of  change,
from winter's slippery *****.
We wait with anxious breath,
as the cold goes in retreat;
as the frost of dawn recedes,
on silent, cat-like feet.
We wait, with new found spirit,
for the best of times ahead;
we wait, with bated feelings,
these tiered clothes to shed.
Old Sol is rising quickly,
on the back, the heat is felt;
I watch with satisfaction,
the icicles that melt.

I wish you sunshine when it rains,
a happy song to ease your pains;
a laugh for every time you cry,
and lovely dreams for bye and bye.

I wish you happiness each day,
whether at your work or play;
the promised hope, of tomorrow,
the quick passing, of each sorrow.

I wish you summer when your cold,
a confidence, to make to you bold;
a treasure house of constant love,
that you can wear, just like a glove.

I wish you sunsets that always please,
on a hot day, an ever cooling breeze;
a little rain when things are getting dry,
and dreams at night, where you can fly.

I wish you memories that never end,
the companionship of a secret friend;
the love of nature that makes you smile,
and some poetry, that bides with you awhile.

Father, all I see ahead,
is Your supreme creation;
forgiven, when Your Son bled,
to form a Holy Nation.

Grace given as a token gift,
truth that speaks as Love;
stable, when the earth does shift,
from the mighty One above.

Light that shines on others,
Faith that keeps us strong;
strength that seals and covers,
like a Rock to lean upon.

Blessings flow from sacred word,
the knowledge of Your power;
music that we've seldom heard,
Your joy is one great tower.

I will always praise Your name,
in times of peace and trouble;
You transformed my sorry life,
and lifted me from rubble.

There's a gypsy in my blood,
that wants to run the road -
and I must travel to the spot,
to where my heart's been sold.

Give me, the open spaces,
let me wander in the night -
let me hike the distant hill,
then my heart will be all right.

I've a need to roam the land,
for the  places I still seek -
to hear the wild goose cries,
to view the snow-capped peak.

Guide my feet to somewhere,
absent traffic and no talk -
just the hush of quiet forest,
under leaves where I do walk.

There's a gypsy in my blood,
to be a carefree vagabond -
taking solace in a journey,
to the vast and far beyond.