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Beneath the sun, beneath the sky,
A soldier stands, with heart held high.
With armor worn, and eyes so deep,
He guards the lands, and dares not sleep.

Through silent nights and battles loud,
He marches on, away from crowd.
A call to duty, never swayed,
A life of service, firmly laid.

He faces storms, both fierce and wild,
Yet in his heart, there’s still a child.
A hope that peace may soon arrive,
To let his weary soul revive.

But till that day, his path is clear,
To shield his land, and fight the fear.
With every step, with every breath,
He stands against the specter of death.

For he is more than just a name,
A soldier’s heart, an endless flame.
Not just in war, but in the peace,
A guardian’s love will never cease.
She cooks breakfast
I wonder
if I can last that long
She says
Darling, no hurry
I'm doing it for you
so
don't worry,

but I'm thinking of
breakfast
and
nothing else.
The moon's soft whisper wakes the night,
a silver glow that shines so bright
the stars up high, a twinkling sea
a celestial showcase, for you and me.

In this quiet hour, I find my peace
a sense of calm, that the world can't release
the moon's pale light, upon my face
illuminates the path, to a sacred place.

Dreams unfold like petals, of a flower in bloom as the moon's gentle beams, ignite the room. The shadows dance, upon the wall
as the night's sweet magic, begins to enthrall.

In this lunar landscape, I find my way
through the darkness and light, of each passing day. The moon's soft whisper, guides me through and fills my heart, with a love that's true.
She has two rifles
a shotgun
pistols that pile
like her loose dresses—
a crossbow so silent
so sharp
it splits the air
before it flies

Even her pans—
cast iron more lethal
than the words I swing

And I—
all I have
is a butter knife
worn thin
from spreading too thick

She slices—
I scrape

She strikes—
I smooth

And somehow
we both meet in the middle
with open palms
taking turns
to see who flinches first
Of the reading of maps
and the keeping of diaries,
there is no end,
but the LORD directs those who pause at dawn.

It seems wise to number;
to measure appears right to the mortal mind.
What is time,
but our need to gauge eternity?

We search without regard.  
We accept the answer
before the question is complete.
But Wisdom rewards those who return to her.

We watch when we should sleep.  
We linger when we should walk.  
Much is gained by those who mute temptation.

A true friend is found in joined silence.  
Likes do little to feed the soul.
Pondering 21st Century living.
"When someone suffers a physical wound,
we care for them with love and support,
respecting their healing without overstepping.
Why not do the same for the wounds of the soul?"
My boat is frail
       and small
       I've no ambition
       to circumvent the world

      only to the nearby shore
      to set up my home
      independently to live
      its wonders to comb

     to be far away from
     civilisation's harsh voice
     with nature to converse
     to gently find my joys

     to be myself and my own
     to graciously grow old and die
     with the winds on my hair and face
     beneath a blue benign sky
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