Although you aren't my real mother
You give me what real moms do
You're my sister and my best friend
I'd be on the streets if it weren't for you
I appreciate everything you do
From the roof over my head,
to the money shared
and being well fed
Happy mother's day, and
thank you for being my mother figure

They keep asking me
Did I do anything different
Not one bit
At last he appreciates me.

I used to like the rain the way the drops fell upon my head most times it felt like my sins were been washed away, I liked the way when the drops hit my face I'd feel instantly be calmer as though the peaceful seas on a hot summers day when it ran upon my lips feeling a sense of love and care that, that little drop took time to run from my head down my aspiring face to reach my pink lips so much care, understanding, love, patience and honesty for in that rain drop I never had to fear I used too like the rain until I found you and you replaced the rain drops with something real something unexplained and something I really love.

Poetry is like spider webs. Each word has so much meaning. A spider prefers to spin its web at night. Maybe this is because thats when they have the most on their minds or when they feel safe.

Each web a beautiful creation. The time it takes to create it and the little appreciation it gets. They say a spider will eat its web when moving on, every poet will eat their words one day.

Cob webs, are webs that have been abandoned and left to die. Our bodies will one day be left to die.

This moment, this one right now, is all we have. We will leave our poetry behind to turn into Cob Webs. Maybe one day a child may stumble across these words and bring them back to life.

Poetry is the most powerful thing we have and we need to give it to everyone. So the next time you see a spider web, appreciate it a little more.

Think of it as, poetry. Something or someone spent a lot of time making it. And put their soul into it. Because what is poetry if not a spiders web in the corner waiting to be realized?

~~~~~^♥^[hugs n kisses]

O how can I express
My gratitude and happiness?
O how can I convey
My feelings for you all today?

O what can I do
To make your support up to you?
What amazing words
Of greatest praise... do I deserve?

I feel so *very blessed
My heart swells in my chest
I have no longer doubt...

... Hello Poetry is GREAT!!!*

With sincere and humble *thanks
For your tremendous support...

Catherine Jarvis
SoulSurvivor

I love it
This feeling
Rest
For time is little
And there is never enough
For us to be happy
But if we lift our eyes
And stop
Look for a second
Look at the blessings
Look at your life
Look at what you have been given
Appreciate
What is close to you

She's wheat-skinned and coarse-haired;
In a fair and lovely world. This woman embodied
Perfection; without ever journeying on a quest to seek it.

All the other girls understood themselves,
Each and every bit of them. She simply
Forgot; to look in the mirror, to be aware of her singular quirks, to be daunted by the schools of swordfish.

In the tribes of North Africa, communities banged drums and danced to please the Gods.
"Allah, Allah!" they'd temporarily yell to foot-stampers who seemed to invoke the spirits,
Those who took breaths of transparent inspiration and truly,
And truly, lived in that jiffy.

The entirety of her life was an Allah moment,
For she never ceased to be lit from below, and lit;
From within. Her monochromatic soul shined a spectrum,
And she was perfect, because she didn't need to be.