I want you to be in my head, I want you to be in my heart. I want our souls to be one so that we will never be apart. I want to feel your spirit each time I am alone. I want you to join me and make a house a home. I want to finish your sentences. I want for you and I to just be. I want you inside of me, for you are the better part of me.

She wears her in many different styles and likes short dresses. She wears bright colors in clothing and makeup. She is full of sass and laughter. She likes to make a splash with her wit and her smile. She gets attention where ever she goes, but is never dull or boring. She offers a warm hand and support to any friend in need. She personifies the confidences that her parents taught her, all the while exuding *** appeal. She loves to wear heels as often as she can, she loves to know she was watched as she walks by. She will wink an blow you a kiss if you are luck. She will leave you speechless if you catch her eye.

My 8 track tape is now a museum piece, **** carpet is a health hazard now. No one knows what disco is, and bell bottoms are back in style. Life revolves in a circle. Some things that were old are new. Once I could read the album print, not I need glasses to see the news. I have slowed down as of late, a trampoline is an enemy of the state. If I am not 30 minutes early, then I consider myself to be late. Everyone is driving too fast, and music is now too loud. I'm not sure what blue tooth is, I think I will ask my doctor the next time my yearly check up comes around. I hear about mp3 but I am not sure what movie rating that is. Jokes I still think are funny, just annoy and embarrass  my grand kids. Loafers are fashionable and I don't have to bend over and tie my shoes. Elastic in my pants is welcome when ever I want to breathe. I seldom have time to watch t.v. since I spend all day watching what I  eat. I have come to a fore drawn conclusion that I must admit, I am old I think.

My arm aches and I wear long sleeves to cover the bruises. I am not sure what I did wrong, but I will try to get it right next time. I want to understand why you are always anger with me. I cannot fix what is wrong if you don't tell me. I suffer through your rage and hitting, I just want to make you happy. So tell me why do you hurt me if you love me.

Silver and Gold will lose their luster. Jewels will not sparkle forever. Treasures can be stolen or tarnished by the passage of time. Life long memories on the other hand cannot be taken by a thief, nor can time erase the impact of love given to create them. The smallest acts of kindness and caring with family, is often the most precious thing. It is a treasure that cannot be given a value. It is part of who you are and what you pass on in life.

I snubbed a woman who said good morning, she in turn was offended and ignored a homeless veteran, who in turn became desperate and tried to rob a street vendor, who was injured and went to the hospital, while the homeless man ran away and became a fugitive. The injured vendor could not work, so his family was evicted and put into the street and thus became homeless, like the veteran, who was cornered by police and shot trying to escape, a tragedy for which no one cared. Now the vendors family has taken to stealing in order to survive, while the man recovers but cannot pay his medical bills and thus gets poor treatment and dies. Now what if the picture were painted differently and things were turned around. I helped an old woman who said good morning get across the street, she saw a homeless veteran and gave him ten dollars, the veteran bought a lottery ticket and a sandwich. He scratched it off and won 50000 dollars, the street vendor from whom he bought the ticket was given a cash bonus for selling the winning ticket. The vendor took the 2500 dollar and had his daughters teeth fixed so that now she laughs and smiles. The homeless veteran got his life together and gave some of his money to help out a homeless shelter where he used to stay. The shelter bought new beds and food to help more people. So is the domino effect, one small thing can turn into a greater thing, it depends on which way you decide to go.

I take life with teeth that glisten like steel in the sun! I bite at my enemies and tear at them! I come in dragon ships with shield and sword. I live for the battle and the glory of the end. I am feared among many though few can speak my tongue. Life to me is victory or death, I raid and pillage at will. I shall be remembered only in myth and song. When time has long past, the legend of my fearful ways will live on. To become horrible legends that terrify children and women in the night. I am a Norseman, by name a Viking.

Crayons fit together in a box, so should we. The colors don't mind if they get mixed, so why should we. They don't question what kind of picture they are drawing as long as it is a pretty one. If they are shared they don't get mad. Letting a friend borrow your favorite won't end the world. Sharing is part of being friends and not letting differences come between the colors is how things all fit into the box .

To some the idea of wading into the water to catch a smelly fish is not alluring at all. What you fail to realize is that there are many lessons that you can learn from the endeavor. At first I learned to be silent, when my grand dad showed me how not to scare the fish. Then I learned patients as my dad taught me how to wait for the fish to come to you. Then I learned to appreciate find details, when I learned to make my own fly bait. From there I learned determination, because there are some fish that just do not want to be caught. Then I came to understand struggle, because the act of fishing is a struggle between the fisherman and his quarry. Finally, I learned wisdom, because you must adapt to the environment as nature is not always cooperative when want to catch a fish.

When the kings and princes stop hoarding wealth and all are willing to work. When the truth is once again taught and we return to the golden rule. It is then that we will return to justice and fairness in our land.

There was a frog who was slimy and green. He sat on a dead log and loved to sing. Then one day a stork came by and the frog became very quiet. Hoping the stork would soon go away, the stork looked at the log and said I am not interested in you today. Though he couldn't see the frog, he waded around then in glee the frog made a sound. The stork scooped him up and left well fed. In the storks belly the frog said, I thought you weren't interested in me. The stork said oh I didn't see you I was talking to the log.

Sharpen the knives and load the guns, empty another keg of ***. Beat the drums and pull the cannon taught. Trim the sail and hoist the jib. Fly the black flag from the rigging. Turn into the wake, and head for our prize. Laden with gold and pieces of eight. Taste the salt spray we can hardly wait. Laying siege to a treasure ship. Come on now don't let her slip away. Mark your lines and make your aim true. There is still a good deal to do, before we can line our pockets with loot. Swing the wheel hard around, hear the cannon pound on the hull of the unsuspecting ship. Thunder echos across her decks, throw the grappling hooks and what the heck. With a cutlass and pistol I take to the fight, and if my luck is just right, I will have my fill of pirates ***** tonight. Gold doubloons and pieces of eight, my won't the ladies think I am great, when I sack this ship and return from the raging main.  So on me hearties and cut them down, Davy Jones watches them going down. Singing the pirates song as we go.

A golden mane and fiery eyes! Hooves that tear up the earth and shake the ground as he runs. A pail yellow coat that glistens in the sun. A free spirit that cannot be tamed. As wild as the open spaces of the great plain, the noble steed commands respect. In a far off time, you could see the race towards battle on such a noble horse, now he runs free only being ridden if he chooses to join spirits with someone. A four legged Thunder bolt that blazes his own path and leaves awe and wonder where ever he chooses to go.

On the night patrol in some desert never heard of before, a private first class shivers from the cold. On the deck of a ship off the coast in a deep blue sea, a sailor prepares an aircraft to launch, to help those in need. In a war torn nation, a nurse mends wounds and sets broken bones, wishing she could be with her family, but her duty calls her here. Across many time zones and foreign lands, to gardens of stone with memorial walls, many keep watch and pay the price so that we may relax and be at ease. Let us never forget the price they pay, some giving their all. This is what our rights demand, this is freedoms cost.

I look into the void that fills the halls of power and I get all confused. I look for distinguished statesmen in fine attire, but all I see are the animals running up and down a spire. There are old lions who have seen their better days with dingy coats and teeth that have bitten off more than they can chew. I see packs of wolves banding together giving anyone who challenges them an icy Arctic stare. Then there are Zebras that are constantly trying to change their stripes, as they prance to and fro trying to avoid any one position. I look on and see packs of Jackals with microphones and cameras. Hissing and growling as they snap at each other to get a word in edge wise. Then there are the Ostriches, who stick their heads in the sand or at least under their desk until what ever problem they are facing has passed. Such is the life in the halls of power also know as a Political zoo.

Punching before the sun comes up, 9 hours on an assembly line. Feet that ache from standing up all day. Two kids and a wife to feed. Thirty years in one spot, going through a hundred pairs of shoes. Then your job is deported instead of those who took it from you, now what do you do? Up a power pole in the wind and freezing rain, keeping the lights on so children stay warm and dry. Union blue runs through your blood, until your job gets outsourced too. Things that made America great, make it great no more. Most who built the country have went from blue collar to being poor. American pride has been forgotten, for real hard work is to a rich mans shame. Sometimes you just want to forget the title, and find another working name.

If I could fly like superman I would soar through the sky, I would fly towards the sun, then turn around and soar through some clouds. I would chase the sunset and view each and every one until 24 hours of the day was done. I would take photographs and post them on my favorite place. I would want the world to see what I see and enjoy it with me. I would shoot up towards the moon and give the flag a salute. If I could truly fly like that, it would be quite a hoot.

I stomp my bare feet upon the  shards of a mirror that was broken a few moments ago. I run the burning cold pieces through my skin as they mix with the warm blood oozing from my wounds. I dance as pain resonates through each nerve. I seek a truth that I cannot find in sanity. I looked at that dam mirror a thousand times and not once did I like what I saw. So I shattered it with my fist and released my power. I now stand in a Crimson and Silver pool as light shimmers beneath my feet like flecks of Diamonds. I realize that I am hurting but my soul does not care. While my body screams for reason, my spirit is elated to feel freedom, even if pain is the only way that it can obtain it.

All distinction is gone, and we are doomed. No representation exist, it will be over soon. Clones of each party reflects the other. Nothing is  new under the sun. Once a clear distinction existed between two factions, now they both grumble and tell lies. All are awash in money while the unwashed masses starve. No help can be found in the seat of power, the chair is one size to fit the posterior of whoever happens to sit in it at the time. Rhetoric abounds but says little as dysfunctional bureaucrats shuffle endless reams of paper from one box to the next in a pretense of accomplishment that would fool even the wisest of the Greeks. At last the utopia is in sight. All persons have one point of view whether they like it or not. Society is reduced to numbers of the haves and the have not's with the former being less than the latter but of a greater status. Reaping all of the harvest and leaving little for the unwashed masses, as they close ranks in androgynous politics that mirror the same thing.

Set a watch on your emotions and lock the gate to your heart. Let no one pass the sentry of your feelings. Keep a close guard on yourself and forget the sorrow and pain you felt. Set up a wall and instill discipline into yourself. Purge your memory of what it is to love erase all semblance of compassion and forget where mercy lives. Move into another endeavor to occupy your time. Fill the void left by a the hopes and dreams that were dashed, with things that will not require you to feel. Stand watch on any chance at love and let no opportunity arise in which you might get hurt again.

The metal bars and concrete that surround me are not what confines me. It is the legacy of pain and misery that I left behind me. A place to sleep is all the same from one day to the next. Life and death come to all who exist. The streets were my school house, but the education did little to prepare me. I never could have imagined the reality of what would haunt me. Images of friends lying in their own blood, children who have no parents because of the drugs I sold. All of this is my prison, I take it everywhere with me. The ghost of my past life always haunt me. They surround me more than any guard or steel bars could you see. These are shackles of my own making. They are the result of my grim undertakings. All for a few dollars and a life I thought I wanted. Now the cost is too high for me to pay and by the broken lives I am taunted. I sit here every night and listen to the echoes of silence. In my head it is a continual song of violence. I can't shake the chains of my own making. I built my own prison with in myself by the path that I have taken.

Let bells ring and sing in the air. Let the proclamation be made that Christmas is here. Let the choirs  sing in joyous refrain. Let the wonderful news be proclaimed. Through out the land let there be peace on earth and good will towards fellow humans. Let giving be our purpose to help out a stranger or a friend. Oh joyous day that is Christmas, let us remember the give that you have given us.

Whiter than the sage grass seed of the fall field. Sitting in an Evergreen tree. Silent hunter proud and long lived. Keeper of the forest secrets, wise one that pursues the winter hare. Being seen only when it pleases you, you sit and wait in patients until the winds call for you to fly. On wings as silent as the frozen river, you glide down to find your prey. Then back into the misty sky as the specks of snow hide your escape. Always watching and seldom speaking, unless you have wisdom to impart. Oh Snowy Owl, sentinel keeping watch in the cold.

Spreading out a net over the waters of humanity, drawing in all that can be saved. A diligent worker toils and sweats, separating out the good from the bad. Some are a prize to be kept while others are serpents that bite and hiss. The souls that show humility are brought into the boat while others are cast back into the sea of iniquity. The catch may be great, but that which can be kept is small. Toiling with all of the might that can be mustered, the fisherman works diligently heeding the masters call.

Roll out the crust and lightly cover it with brown sugar. Cut up the peaches and add some cinnamon. Place the filling into the center and cover over with the hand rolled crust. Dust lightly with sugar and put into an oven at a decent heat. Sit back with a cup of hot tea and watch the magic take place. Smell the air until you smell the fragrance of paradise. Look at the crust to make sure it is crispy and golden brown. Turn off the oven, then open a window and place the pie to cool. Fix a *** of coffee and wait for family and neighbors to come around. Cut the pie into slices and serve it up with love. Watch how folks come together and laugh with sparkles in their eyes. This is how you make and enjoy a Georgia Peach Pie.

No matter the circumstance, I am on solid ground. No matter how the storm rages, I shall be safe and secure. Despite what others think of me, I will stay on the narrow road. When life is turned upside down by the turmoil of the world, I will find comfort in his words. Even when the end comes upon me, I will rest assured that his grace is all I need.

I can smile and tell people good morning. I can offer a helping hand. I can give my blood to save another. I can spare a few dollars to help out a cause. I can talk of hope and sacrifice and then live a life that reflects them. I can show kindness and give to others that which has been given to me. I am able to do what many cannot. I am willing to be there when others will not . I understand that my life is a gift and I should be sharing that gift when I can with others.

She told me her name was Heaven, she said she would show me one hell of a time. Her Green eyes glistened like two fire brands and her dark hair clouded my mind. I was lost in the subtle smell of Roses that gently scented her skin. After one wild night with her, I will never be the same again. She broke my will and wrapped me around her finger. It is been twenty years now and her memory still lingers in my mind. Though I have loved another, one memory still haunts me from time to time. The night I spent in Heaven, having one hell of a time.

My way or the highway. That is the current trend. We cannot have a conversation, because your words will offend. I need my safe space and where is my therapy dog. What has become of us, where has courage gone. There used to be a will to fight, but it has gone away. We have given in to hate and let children have their way. Elders are treated with contempt and no one can agree to disagree. Nobody wants to be responsible, how can this be? We have given up our will to fight and stand for what we believe. No one will pay a price, they just give in you see. So when the next generation takes control and in time they will. Because we gave in to their intolerance, it is we who will pay the bill.

Grey skies and low hanging clouds make some people blue, but I see fun where they see gloom. If no rain ever came, then we couldn't splash in puddles. If it never got cold, then we would not know about ice or ice cream. If the ground never got wet, then we couldn't make mud pies. If there were no clouds, then we couldn't see funny shapes in them. If no water fell to the earth, then we would not have flowers after the spring showers. So though the day might be cloudy and overcast, there is a lot to be said for a rainy day.

If I only had one day to live, I would start early to make amends. I would undo all that I had done  to hurt strangers and friends and the family that I love. I would give more than I have ever given before. I would do that and just a little bit more. I would share words of kindness with everyone I saw. I would not be to busy for anyone at all. I would step outside and enjoy whatever the day would bring. I would dance whether it was sun, snow, or even dark clouds and rain. I would make each second precious because I would know it would be my last. Then when the sun set and I breathed my last, I would thank God in heaven that he let me go out this way. I would be very grateful that I had just one special day.

The most precious things are not always kept in vaults or in fortresses of princes or kings. Some of the greatest treasures can not be measured or given a value. The first kiss of true love or the first laugh of a new born child. These are things that no treasure can buy. A true friendship that has want of nothing but to just be, a life long love that can withstand the eternity. No gem stone or money can buy the value of these things. They are intangible treasures that are beyond the wealth of the richest man or the wisdom of the mightiest king.

Is life worth living, can anyone say. Is it worth the pain and hardship that we must face. Is it worth the emptiness of seeking materialistic things. Is life worth living I ask the question again. Sometimes it seems pointless, to continue to fight. It seems that it would just be easier to step aside. To let life go and fall into sweet release, oh please can someone tell me is life worth living.

As I walk along the journey of my life, I often stop by the way. In places where there are dark patches, I pull up the ugly weeds and plant a seed. When I see the barren places, I never know what seed will be needed, but what ever is needed I always have at the ready. Some places need seeds of hope while others may need joy. In some patches of life there is a need for wisdom and in others friendship. What ever the need along the way, I sew a seed. I am just a humble traveler walking along the way. A seed sower by my trade, planting things that people need, in hope of a harvest that I will not see, but that one who comes after me will reap the benefit of my breaking ground in the lives of so many who are in need.

Mix a little pepper with a little thyme, see a covered dish melt in your mouth. Add some Pumpkin to Ginger and watch cookies come alive. Use a twist of Lemon, with a pinch of lime, bake until golden brown, it works every time. Food is a lot like life, for it to be good it takes the right spices.

Hear the whistling wind. See the snow flakes fall. Look at ice crystals as they glisten like jewels on tree limbs. School is cancelled for a snow day and children laugh and fall down on patches of ice as they skate and sled. Hot chocolate had replaced iced tea and marsh mellows stick to your nose as you try to eat hot smores. The heat of summer has vanished and the bluster of fall has gone. Now is a joyous and restful time as the song of winter is sung.

Putting up with the sniffles and watching love stories until my mind is numb. Rubbing your tired feet and listening to you complain. Giving support even when I want to give you advice. Fighting, then swallowing my pride to admit that I am wrong. Trying not to forget your birthday and remembering an anniversary. Some of the things that make love difficult you see. Though it gets difficult, I would not change a thing, for I am truly in love you see.

Vines are cut and clusters are pulled in. Vats are prepared and the grapes are thrown in. Then dark haired maidens with olive skin, step barefoot into the piles and the dance begins. Up and down they go with their delicate bare feet, their skirts raised high in natures serenade. With laughter and chatter they dance around, crushing the luscious fruit into a mire of pulp. From the white and amber mixtures, the natural juices flow. Into buckets and barrels the mixture goes. From central Italy, to the south of  Spain, dark haired maidens dance on the grapes. Following a tradition dating back hundreds of years, they dance with delight each time the grape harvest begins.

One time when I was young and in school, I was taught the golden rule. Do unto others as you would have done to you. Live and let live, this lesson was very true. Then I grew up and found it was all a lie. The golden rule is different when you are grown up. The lesson that I learned at work is not what they taught me in school, it is now who ever has the gold makes the rules. So perhaps we should all begin again. Let's start with ourselves and perhaps the lesson will spread. Stop hoarding up wealth and let's return to what we were taught in school. Treat others as we would like to be treated, let that be the golden rule.

Poverty is not mutually exclusive to one place. Want and despair are not specific to one race. Ignorance is not limited to one group. Many of these things we share as people. When one group prospers, another lacks. When one person commits senseless violence, many people are hurt beyond the intended victim. We are blinded by ideology and are limited by our own selfishness. On a world so full of diverse life, we are all of one kind, that is human kind.

Though we have never met and we might not agree. I am on the line in harms way. I prepare for the task of war, but readily pray for peace. I am the tip of the spear but I want to lend a helping hand. When there are those who would impose their will on another, I will stand ready to answer the call. I am willing to lay down my life for the cause in which I believe. I will do this and much more. When there in injustice and hopelessness, I will be the sword and shield. I will show that the cost of violence is too high to pay. It is my hope that others will choose discourse over war, but if I must fight then I will. I will stand for freedom with my life's blood so that others do not have to.

In herds of painted colors unshod hooves tear across the land scape. Tumble weeds chase them in their wake, as they leave a trail of dust thrown up by them as they go. Through thin brown grasses, they rampage on endless plain that has no end from horizon to horizon. Shaking the earth as they dance along, trotting with fire in their snorts and strength in their mane's. Wild horses thunder on the prairie, as they run into the setting sun as if chasing some place not yet known to man. Fading shadows of the heard conjures up legends of an era gone by as they thunder on the prairie into the steel grey sky.

Striving towards a goal, seeking to be better today than yesterday. I push myself to achieve more. Looking to be a better person, through discipline and sacrifice, all of these lessons are applied in every aspect of my life. Being kinder to others, while improving my own state of existence. I seek to move to a new level with each concerted effort. If I can reach a new goal, if I can help another person, then I have moved beyond what I did before and I have gone beyond my own expectations and perhaps I will inspire others to do the same.

Take all the wealth from everyone that has it and give it all to the poor. Change government officials every four years regardless of if they want to leave or not. Assign everyone a job based upon their abilities. Give everyone an equal chance. Train everyone to go to college, so no one is left out. Make every home the same size and dictate that no one can have more children than another. Set retirement for everyone to be the same if they want it or not. See that the bureaucracy works like clockwork and that no one gets left out. Let's give liberalism a try, I'm sure it will work out just fine.

When someone shows me cruelty, lord show them kindness. When someone afflicts me, lord give them justice. When I am persecuted and denied fair judgement, lord forgive my oppressors. When all that is done has been recorded, then lord offer my enemies space to repent. In this let me be blameless and let your judgement be righteous. So that the record will be straight, that all were given mercy, even when they denied it to me. Then will I be avenged oh lord, because of my enemies shame.

Chirping and chattering in a lonesome tree, why do you sing oh lark. What makes you chatter an dart about. Pouncing from limb and branch then hurling yourself towards the earth before taking to the sky. Oh that you would stay a while and sing one more tune or chatter once more at me. Oh why must you go oh lark.

I'm sitting here rocking the cell block, getting a new tattoo. Ever since I left the streets there isn't much else to do. I was banging with my crew when the lead started to fly. I was making a few bucks just trying to get by. One of the boys had a beef and we had to put some work in. One 9mm and three shots later and I'm hitting the Penn. . Watched my homeboy laid down in the street, nobody saw nothing or that's what the police say. Now I got to do 20 hard, I hate that it has to be this way. I left a few good homies still running in the streets, they still trying to be living large and I am property of the state. Looking at the new crew that just came in, I haven't seen my family in God only knows when. So here I sit in a cell, trying to remember what it was all for. I am dying to get a touch, but no love is coming through that door. The ones I thought were my friends, have just walked away. After I took the wrap, they don't have anything to say. Even if I wanted to tell, I don't think I could. I still have family living in the same old hood. So I guess this is how for the moment it has to be. I'm sitting here soldering up with no love from the homies.

Lesser orb of the night, guide of seasons and counter of days. Orange giver of shimmering light, mysterious body that comes then fades away. In season you mark the harvest, giving the time to bring the bounty in. Wheat, Corn and Pumpkins are brought in from the fields, as the chill of fall sets in. Hay rides and Bond fires become a normal scene. Lovers walk under your light as they think of comfort and warmth in each others arms. In your own way, you stand watching the mysteries of life and love, as summer ends and fall  begins, marked by the harvest moon.

I watch the sun rise this morning. I heard only birds and drops of dew. While in another land, others woke to a different sight. The birds did not sing or at least could not be heard over the falling bombs. There was no morning dew because of the drought and famine in the land. I drew water from my sink and made a *** of coffee, while in another land children struggled to get a drink of water from a ***** well. In a land so rich and safe often we forget to have gratitude for no matter who you believe God to be, but for the grace of God go I and you. Thank God with all gratitude.

In forest of tall evergreens under crisp blue skies. I ascend the side of a tall mountain to find the sun. Looking up to tall snow capped peaks, I draw in a deep breath. In a land once though lost, I breathe in the clean air.