You fill in the blanks
Add adverbs to happy adjectives
Make days dance with similes of sun beams
And turn nights into metaphors of heaven
Words become songs
That beat to the rhythm of the heart
Muse and art merge
To become one -
And life becomes a verse

Pick-up sticks and ashes
All that’s left behind
When hurricanes and forrest fire
Have done their deadly work.

Broken people searching  through
The rubble that is left
Of happy hours in former lives,
Hoping to find a keepsake

Something that will tie them to
The place they used to live
And give them strength to persevere
And somehow build a life again.
ljm

Isn't it beautiful
How the most vivid colors and scenes
Can be created from
Only the black and white on a page?
Movement, harmonies, blends of hues
Described with only memories wished from a writer to you.

Let’s make love under the stars,
Jupiter and Mars
If you can hold the stars in space
Setting motion our time and place
Into the deepest depths and
darkest nights
I’ll follow you down

Through the cosmic dance, we'll sway
Our love, a gravitational pull, each day
In the silence of the universe's roar
Our hearts will beat together, forever more

In the celestial tapestry, we'll weave
Our love, a shining thread, to forever leave
A constellation of memories, bright and true
Guiding us forward, my love,
I'll follow you.

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                             Little Thoughts of God

          We are not some casual and meaningless product of
          evolution. Each of us is the result of a thought of God. Each of
          us is willed, each of us is loved, each of us is necessary.

                                     -Papa Benedict, 24 April 2005


Our children play with little toy trucks and trains
Comb Barbie’s hair and then arrange Ken’s tie
They get fussed at for pulling the puppy’s tail
They cuddle up with kittens and Winnie-the-Pooh

Our children create worlds with construction paper
Discover Narnia in a new box of crayons
They get fussed at for writing on the wall
They squirm in church; they tickle Daddy’s beard

Our children love their chapter books (and us!)
“Is this a picture of a pirate ship?”
They get fussed at for asking soooooo many questions
“Daddy, will you read us a story now?”

Dear Lord –

Let our children grow up and make us proud

Dear Lord –

Let our children grow up