I wrote this for the boys and girls of the free world who fought/fight and die to keep us from harm.

Blue for the vast oceans crossed to fight to keep democracy free.  For your right to say your piece, to keep you safe from harm.

Green for the lands we'd never seen, places we didn't want to be but duty called and we did go to fight for you

Red for the blood, the blood we shed when the bomb or bullet found its mark. Yes, the blood we shed for you

Your love is the dance in my heart
that keeps my blood moving.
It is the fluttering of a thousand
excited butterflies in my stomach.
The sparkle on the water at sunset
which rests in my eyes
when they fall on you.

While I'm with you
I could never be too hot or too cold.
Nothing is more just right.

It is a love even cinema envies.
The song you play for my soul
is the one that I could never
sing alone.

I'm always drawn to the silent kid
Pushed far back in the class.
Grungy hair, never cut back
Flipping his pencil in the air.
I thinks it redeemable that no one knows
Where he came from or where he goes.
It simply goes to show
That he keeps to himself and my curiosity grows.
I don't pine or crush or stalk him though,
I don't know him aside from the hoody logo.
The one he wears days in a row.
And when the teacher called him to speak
His voice was low but hardly meek.
Like a tone that no one hardly shows.
He rarely uses his voice to vocalize prose.
But when he spoke of religious concept
I could hear his sarcastic intellect.
"I don't believe but I accept. It's just a thought of perceptual inept."
That's when I knew I had to neglect
My learning endeavors and speak to this gent.
Inching closer to his desk
I start off slow and ask his opinion of certain text.
He broke his stare and turned it to me
Almost disbelieving I could see past his cloak of invisibility.
Very wary and abruptly short
He told be to turn around.
My brain screamed "abort!"
I lost this one but he was unaware
That we still had a few hours left in there.
And in his silent stubbornness
I simply sat and told him this.
"If William Blake was all devout then in The Tiger why was he calling God out?"
The boy rolled his eyes at me
"Did he who made the lamb make thee?"
Of course he did!
I already knew
That just for a second I was getting through.
"He wants to have the unfailing faith without getting whiny with trials and disbelief."
This took me aback and challengingly seethed,
"If you're defending him then why do you disbelieve?"
He raised his eyebrow in confusion, almost enjoying me
"Hey you're the one who first asked me? Don't ask me a question then mentally ***** at me."
I held back a smile and could instantly see
This shy kid and I would get along perfectly.
The he retorted first asking me,
"You're not some kind of Jesus freak?"
Laughing uncontrollably, I breathed,
"Of course not. Never touched the stuff. Grew up religiously but that was enough. God has my infancy but my adulthood belongs to me."
Then he stopped and looked at me...
I earned a smile
What a blessed sight to see.
And then we sat there together
Silently.
We waited days to exchange names
Though he was my shy kid
And I his crazy dame.
Conversing over theories
And explained
How ours were better.
"No, yours is lame."
We chuckled in the back of class
Quite content for the time to slowly pass
Borrowing pencils
Ripped pages from binded rings
With silent words scribbled
That we were quietly passing.
Never speaking of our other lives
Outside this class of mutual lies.
Just two hours of acceptance thrives.
I use him and he used me
To create a silent under towing
Of our ideas so different and refreshing
It was our home we invented without moving.
This shy kid and I
I can't explain
If you had one to yourself you wouldn't complain.
How honest and blunt you'd never expect them to be.
Go talk to one
You'd be surprised to see.

Two went to pray? O rather say
One went to brag, th’ other to pray:

One stands up close and treads on high,
Where th’ other dares not send his eye.

One nearer to God’s altar trod,
The other to the altar’s God.

After all these years,
Here we are still following the sunrise,
Watching where it leads,
And never where it ends,
Mesmerised by its colours,
And the sounds surrounding it,

After all these years we still don't understand,
That we will never understand the earth and sun,
That it was never meant to be understood,
But to be Admired and looked at,
To see the Beauty,
And to have hope ignited in our hearts and souls.

sometimes we think to much,
try to understand what was never meant to be understood,
try to explain what needs not explaining,
we never truly stop and see.

See the Beauty and Be Inspired.