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it
its
cloaked in red
100 feet tall
1000 feet small
rough to the touch
but to tempt me
oh the sweet smell
just there to give me hell
sometimes a cube
sometimes a rock
but to me in my life
its writers block
I have
1. so many emotions
2. time to write
3. passion and dedication
BUT THE WORDS WONT COME OUT!!!!!!!
ugh -_- im so mad
Broken locks 
 keys that won't turn
Are useless right?
There one purpose diminished 
Their life finished
So we throw them away
Not a seconded thought reviewed
So we go on in life just like before
But that lock 
That key 
Could have been so much more
If a chance had been given
That lock 
That key
Could have opened your heart
Set you free
Because in life people come in 
And we turn them away
For petty reasons we send them astray
But if time was gifted
And chances were given
Life might become a little peice of heaven
Locks will lock
Keys will turn
People will smile
Life
Will become great even if for just a while
I thought I would add something that I struggle with personally into a poem so I hope ya like it also I'm sorry for any grammar or spelling problems....0.0
 Dec 2012 Sa Sa Ra
Hilda
Solemnly the clock
Chiming forth its hours of time
Mocks mortality

~Hilda~
© Hilda December 19, 2012
We set out to honor Mary
traveling the pilgrim's path from west to east
We walked, we rode the bus
entertained and enchanted by   Cristina
applauding Ramon along the way.
Each day was one of prayer and song, sunshine and fellowship
rosaries and novena
we submitted petitions to Santiago
we laughed with San Serapio
From the grand and magnificent cathedrals
to the humblest village chapel
we grew in faith, hearing God's word in many languages.
We marveled at the dedication and stamina of the pilgrims
making their way on foot and bicycle
at the warmth, generosity, and hospitality
they receive along the way
We picknicked alongside mountain streams
enjoying good food, good wine,and good friendship
we walked down the hillsides in the hot sunshine
passing the pilgrims going the opposite way
we quenched our thirst in a quaint and rustic village tavern.
Ramon drove with skill up the mountains to Garabandal
a remote village suspended in time and beauty
there on the mountain top we sat among the pines
where Mary had appeared.
We sat in silence, in awe and reverence
the only sounds, the whisper of the breeze and the cowbells on the hillside
We  prayed the rosary
It was, for most of us, a most special memory
From our bus we looked out at the mountains
the green and rolling farmland
at the rocky Atlantic coast
at the rios and the rias.
We walked in procession at Fatima and Lourdes
by candlelight and moonlight
and again in the brilliant sunshine
The voices and the church bells
carried across the plazas
enveloping us in joy and prayer and mysticism
It was at the grotto at Lourdes
with my hands pressed on the rocky cave wall
with the holy water on my hands
that I felt Mary's presence
Mary, my mother, my sister, my friend

AVE MARIA
September, 2008
Christmas is a time for holiday cheer
Of anticipation and memories held dear
Of family and friends and good will to all
Of cards and good wishes and trips to the mall
Of angels and carols and trimming the tree
But the best part of this Christmas is you and me.
 Dec 2012 Sa Sa Ra
CA Guilfoyle
Soft
green blanket
stair step moss
climbing to stars
raindrops rolling
falling from
blackened branches
wintery maple
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