Earth's history of humans,
   spans ages,
Yet individually, we get,
   so few pages.
In this time, so few, we
   get to know.
The rest, just flakes,
    in our blizzard, snow.

Fold me like you always have,
Run your nails to set the creases,
Shape me to the form you crave,
Bend me into the art of your wishes,

My form forever yours to toy with,
I conform to your will and desire,
Expose my surfaces, above or beneath,
I will always be there for you to admire,

I can be flexible or I can be stiff,
That depends on what you want,
I am here to help fill your rift,
The one who says you can when you can’t,

Craft that which you seek of me,
I am but your art, your origami.

This time of year, I think, what would
   my Grandmother do?
A staunch Republican,
    thru and thru.
We walked her precincts
   together, a long hike,
Proudly, wearing, the buttons,
   "I like Ike."
Yet, Jesus was her strength,
   and guide.
With her former party,  
    would she still, side???

What I've done in the past,
    Is History.
What I do in the future
     A Mystery.
What I do in the present,
     So important for me.

Words there are not
to express how I feel

Hearing your words
of your sad ordeal

My heart reaches out
to shoulder your pain

Hoping this song
has a happy refrain

My angels are yours
to carry you through

Til happiness blooms
like a flower anew

It seems,now on "hello poetry,"
  only a fraction
       is getting to me.
Going to following, only
      a few I see.
Is this the future
     of this site to be.
Someone fix this
      is my plea!
It, I find, means
   much too thee.