Foolish woman, trying to drown her distress,
She ambles down rainy streets alone;
Weary, she grapples with her loneliness,
Poor thing! she'll return drenched to the bone

There are feelings she finds hard to define ----
Walking in the rain helps clear her view;
Soon the proper words and cadence align,
And with verse she'll share her pain with you

Poems are a priceless commodity
That allow sorrow to be dispersed;
And you, loyal patron of her artistry,
Will read words in which you're well rehearsed

Once again, her tears will run down your face,
With closed eyes you will clearly review
All the memories her mind can't erase,
All because her poem spoke to you

If you were a bird, I would let you perch
Upon my shoulder, close to my ear;
Your feathery wings would caress my face
As your sweet song blessed the atmosphere

If you were a frog, I'd not seek a prince,
I'd love cradling you in my pocket!
Or, I might wrap you in lace, and then
Wear you close to my heart like a locket

If you were a bee buzzing 'round my head
I would let you nestle in my hair;
Deep in the night your honeyed kisses
Would transcend Heaven's ambrosial air

But it matters not your earthly facade,
You're the one who rules from my heart's throne;
Your seeds of love took root in my heart --
And so, you shall reap the love you've sown

I've never envied another woman
For her jewels or garments finely sewn,
But I can't conceal the envy I feel
Knowing she has love to call her own

To see her walking as though she had wings
On her feet makes me pause in wonder;
And hard though I try, I cannot deny
I envy this spell that she's under

Once an elderly couple caught my eye ---
A man and woman whose youth had flown,
But her countenance, in radiant trance,
Left no doubt his love was hers alone

What envy permeates my waking hours --
What vile winds across my heart have blown!
I don't ask for much - a man's tender touch,
Just a love that I can call my own

But lonely days and nights turned into years,
And O, how my restlessness has grown!
I fear I shall die without knowing why
I never had love to call my own

Why do we always look to the skies
When we can't find the answers around us?
What are these inexplicable ties
That have encumbered our minds and bound us?

Why can't we admit the glaring truth?
No one from another realm hears our cries;
Though you may find my thinking uncouth,
I find no proof of heavenly allies

Only to each other are we linked
Through all the miseries that Life imparts,
When the sobbing's heard, clear and distinct,
Help comes only from caring human hearts

I observe the world through tear-filled eyes
As deceitful bounders don their disguise,
Pretending to care for the down-trodden,
Their pledge of compassion soon forgotten

But I cannot help but answer the cry
Of the hopeless whose lives have gone awry,
Marooned on Life's sea, left with but one oar,
Why am I compelled to pull them ashore?

It pains me to hurt any living thing --
Rather than **** a bee, I'd let it sting;
In my heart I know this is who I am ---
A willing martyr, a sacrificial lamb

Can this be choice? The instinct is so strong,
This astute awareness of right and wrong;
Perhaps in my reasoning I'm blundering,
But such principles leave me wondering:

Kids who tear wings off of butterflies ----
Is this a behavior they can revise?
Is this really free will, or do you suppose
Just inherent traits that we can't oppose?

I can't help but think choice is preordained,
At birth some dark souls with evil are stained,
While others carry their cross up the hill.
Do we really choose . . .  do we have free will?

A confident smile rests upon your lips,
A surge of  light radiates from your eyes;  
Like a happy child, your heart jumps and skips --
Wild expectancy is hard to disguise!  

Somewhere from the darkest depths of your soul  
Come the sweetest notes of a singing bird;
Woe and despair have relinquished control --
Within your tortured heart new hope has stirred

Has the voice of hope not deceived before,
Whispering such sweet lies into your ears?
And that cloak of joy,  flung upon the floor
To absorb the streaming flow of your tears?

Is the purpose of my tale clear to you?
(I'm not sure how some minds will perceive it);
When hope delivers its deceitful cue,  
Think twice whether you'll take it or leave it

The arms that held you at end of day
Were not the arms you were dreaming of,
But how can a starving heart turn away
Anything vaguely resembling love?