My broken heart, now aches for you,
I long to steal away your pain.
Your life, yet touched in shades of blue,
and gray amidst the falling rain.

While days now seem as if surreal,
and energy has been erased,
allow yourself the time to heal,
and wrap yourself in love’s embrace.

But life is brief, no guarantee,
for what our future will foretell,
so we must live beyond routine;
embracing ev’ry moment well.

So when our time has come at last,
to bid our life on earth adieu,
with no regret we leave the past,
to dance on heaven’s morning dew.

So though your heart is bleeding now,
and pain surrounds your ev’ry bend,
your grief will lessen, this I vow,
and peace will find you in the end.

I feel your arms around me
as I think of you today,
and like so many other times,
send letters as I pray.

You left us oh so long ago;
a lifetime, so it seems,
and often visit as I sleep,
if only in my dreams.

Your spirit still so present here;
so oft you bring me calm,
and with this heav’nly letter,
send my love up to you, Mom.

Insidious is your hold on those
in your grasp,
depleting all life and energy
from loved ones,
as we watch them waste away
to nothingness.

Pain is the king of all;
we are under your spell,
visiting family, friends,
and loved ones
with your blackness,
as we writhe in agony.

Cancer, you *******!
You’ve taken my heart,
and taunt me as those I love
fall to your
armies of
death.

I’ve walked this graying, foreign land,
inviting me to tread its dust,
I’ve questioned why, this rugged path,
and why I’ve had to brave so much.

I’ve cried so many useless tears,
for heartbreaks life has trust on me,
which left my journey full of fears,
tormenting me incessantly.

Yet in this world that I’ve trudged through,
I’ve found some gifts I can’t ignore;
the childhood love I wished I knew,
and quiet that my strength restored.

So, with my feet set on the moon,
earth’s vision forms in front of me,
and I embrace this distant dune,
where I’ve been sent to be set free.

Waiting for the springtime warmth,
to melt away the snows,
I see the green of springtime growth,
break through the crust below.

Through long and frigid winter months
and dangers that were fraught,
our northern states have braved the cold,
that mother nature brought.

Through banks of ice cream frosted snow,
that wrapped the land in white,
the brave green shoots of newborn grass,
peek through with morning's light.

The cold is lifting, none too soon;
it’s fled before the melt,
and left this wanting, summer soul,
rapt with the joy I've felt.

Dancing to the distant strains,
of Neil Young’s Harvest Moon.
beneath October’s starlit skies,
we sang this classic tune.

While fireworks lit the darkened path,
we twirled away the night,
and gazed into each other’s eyes,
while waiting for first light.

Your lips met mine beneath the light,
as passion filled our hearts,
reflected in the bonfire’s blaze,
that lit the forest schwartz.

Though many years have since flown by,
and both have gone our ways,
I still can feel the crisp fall air,
as we loved the night away.

Once through my bolted windowpane, so oft I saw the angry rain,
and as my life lie on the floor, I once endured a tortured war.
And through those rain-streaked by-gone days, my world was stained a muddied gray,
while fighting through the struggles of each day.

But now my window's open wide, the vastness of today can’t hide,
I see a world of brilliant hues, through eyes that see a different view.
‘Tis hope that brings me to my feet, and makes me dance with joy complete,
to sounds of life that come with bliss so sweet.

Life calls me now upon the wind, to join it’s dance of life again,
it brings joy to this aging soul, for what was broken, now’s made whole,
and through that window now I see, the beauty life was meant to be;
like magpies singing on the morning breeze.

As I walk the morning beach alone,
with sunlight on my face,
I search to find these treasured bits
in this, a magical place.

These gifts the seas give endlessly,
are tossed before my hands,
all wet with the foamy surf-brought brine,
they glisten in the sand.

A dwelling once for housing life,
discarded now they find,
a special place within the one,
with solitude of mind.

This quiet life of beachcombers,
we know it all too well,
need silence, peace, and beauty,
as we search for more than shells.

Anger coursing through my veins;
seething, unrelenting,
each time you come to mind.
I relive your reign of terror.

You wore your education
like a mantle to hide the darkness inside;
using your position to control those around you,
making them scream out in pain.

What gives you the right?
Who are you to think you can use your power
to bully those around you,
little man?

Peeking through the blackness,
the ghosts of yesterday stir.
Reaching for help that comes too late,
creatures cry as they melt into the ground

Orange tongues lick the dry tinder,
as firenadoes twist in their death-rolls.
The heroes of the day wipe their brow
while the world looks on in horror and mourns.

You’ve made your legacy
bullying those around you,
dressing down those who
appeared less in the chain of edibles.

Pushing to the brink of suicide
those you could,
surrounding yourself with “yes men”
while those of honor drown.

But your small and insignificant life
can no longer hurt me,
only memories in dreams
as fading dinosaurs chase me down.

The evening sun bids me adeau,
reflected like jewels on Caribbean blue;
it’s diamonds dance on ribbons of sea,
as nature’s song floats back to me.

While flaming violets paint the sky;
an impressionist artwork from on high,
all Earth’s creatures seem to hush,
at the beauty of nature’s one true brush.

I’ve searched the world for signs of me,
since I was but a child,
but never found the one within,
who chose to dwell inside.

I’ve known my passion for the arts,
would someday guide my days,
and found the world a wonderland,
to visit on my way.

But never did I know myself,
however hard I’d try,
for I'd been locked behind the bars,
that others built to hide.

A soul which yearned to see beyond,
a female lacking choice,
to be the one created strong,
without a proper voice.

But deep inside this chrysalis,
no wings to set her free,
was growing strength to be herself;
what she was meant to be.

That tiny soul awaiting dawn,
the day I’d finally see,
the beauty hidden deep inside;
a song of love for me.

At last I’ve met this silent soul,
freed from me deep inside;
this woman filled with grace and love,
no longer needs to hide.

I’ve finally woken to a world,
alight with endless skies,
and I embrace a love so great,
it gives me wings to fly.

We lost our innocence last week.
You came into our lives picking them clean,
stealing from us the peace and calm
of a life without fear.

You crept in with your AKAs,
with your anger dripping from your guns;
your violence became ours,
along with its silent fears.

You cloud our minds and haunt our dreams 
as you creep into our nightmares. 
We search for ways to escape, but find no hope 
while you are in our memories.

We have bargained away our future 
for want of power and wealth.
But I have always known that guns 
were traded for lives and souls.

Beneath the hidden water world of pristine turquoise seas,
where sergeant majors flash their stripes and parrotfish swim free,
they dashed before my outstretched hands, their world a paradise,
now live within my secret world where memories are kept live.

I float back to this world of bliss in my imaginings,
a soothing world surrounding me where water gives me wings.  
I float amidst this untouched world of grace and find a calm;
a place inside of soothing peace where oft my soul finds balm.

Stepping out on Lovers Key as daylight greets each summer’s day,
I amble over wooden planks, a bridge along the sandy way.
While sand ***** scamper from my view between its aging wooden slats,
and play a game of hide and seek within its graying crags and cracks.

The colored flags that end the path warn each of us to be aware,
of dangers in the water’s deep that catch the swimmers unaware.
A hot wind blowing from the south lifts underneath my hat’s straw brim,
as sweat drips from my forehead brow, I think how very blessed I am.

While waves wink with the sun’s starlight, I soak in all the morning calm,
and bubbles line the water’s edge, along with ocean’s gifts and alms.
I stroll along the seaside path, while egrets search the ocean spread,
and crystal waters wash my feet I’m captured by this path I tread.

No words can voice my fears untold,
and anger at this stubborn land;
its people hide inside their worlds,
and blind their eyes from where they stand.

We stand upon a precipice,
of all that we now hold beloved:
a living earth to give our youth,
and conscience for the least unloved.

A moral compass, this we lack.
We twist our world to what we want,
befitting all our selfish needs,
and blind our eyes to that which counts.

No words I write can turn our hearts,
alas, this must come from within,
for each must lift the blinding cloak,
and look beyond our sightless skins.

Raised on the crumpled fairytales and dreams of fractured youth,
left nothing to believe in and little else to do,
but cast the past into its hell and banish memory’s hold,
into the fiery pit of growth that purified my soul.

I think of times when hope was lost and blindness filled my days;
when darkness colored everything and filled my life with grey;
where fairies found in fairytales were buried where they died,
and weakened wills were crushed to dust and vanished with the lies.

But now the dust is washed away, and life is largely gone,
that bedrock, now left found exposed, is made of solid ground.
Amidst the hopes and dreams of youth, tales set my mind ablaze,
I sense these wild imaginings were meant to lift my days.

Throughout my life I’ve always thought my dreams eluded me,
and lies were told, in years of old, to quiet me to sleep,
But through the ever changing years, these tales unlocked a door,
for dreams were told to give my mind creative wings to soar.

Autumn falls quietly in the north,
creeping over gardens and woods
as it kisses the leaves in vermilion and ochre
catching blossoms in mid-bloom.

The shadows of September grow long,
over fields and landscapes,
as their stark contrast reminds all
of the frigid months to come.

Butterflies flit noiselessly about
from flower to flower lighting briefly,
in their search of nectar,
drinking in the remaining harvest of the season.

A soft breeze rustles through the leaves,
bringing a shiver to my shoulders,
as a solitary leaf floats gently down beside me;
a brief wave to fall.

Clothing tattered, they come,
hungry for freedom and food.
Beaten down by oppression and hate
they cry for freedom.

They come by the thousands,
on foot over uncounted miles,
yet we turn them away,
as they cry for food.

Sick and worn, they arrive.
Torn from friends and family,
caged like animals.
They cry for compassion.

They die awaiting relief,
as hope wains across our land.
We ignore their plea,
as children cry for justice.

We all await the return of
conscience and compassion,
and grow weary as time wears on
and we cry…

Wrapped in my anger and hidden in pain,
my heart beats in silence, with blinding distain,
for the lack of compassion we show for mankind,
and our thrashing of earth, what we’re leaving behind.

As we selfishly use and neglect to replace,
and cull certain races like they're human waste,
in our selfish pursuit of more riches and power,
as we leave life on earth and our future here dour.

Our waters like sewage, our oceans are dying,
it’s past time for talking and time to start working,
for something apart from just serving up words,
and find a solution that works for the world.

So, gone are the days when I’ve held it inside,
and have damaged myself and my health while I hide.
From the ugliness, cruelty, the human neglect,
and the way that we misuse and all that we’ve wrecked.

For now I believe I must write how I think,
to be true to myself and the world on the brink.
To paint with my words or in stark artwork plea,
that will open the eyes of those willing to see.

For what I have learned in my time on our earth,
our world will always be at war with itself,
unless we all learn to respect one another;
treat neighbors like brothers and earth like our mother.

I’ve always dreamt of living life,
outside the bounds of everyday,
and break my insignificance:
a nameless child, amidst the fray.

I dreamt of lands beyond my reach,
I’d only read in far-off tales,
and made a promise to myself,
to reach beyond my choking veil.

To make my hidden dreams come true,
my path was never lined with gold,
and many days were wrapped in tears,
with pain and wounds within my soul.

But I’ve been blessed with unseen joys,
that few will ever know or see,
and now I know the price I’ve paid,
was worth the cost to set me free.

Now in the autumn of my days,
my silent self from inside seeps,
and finds its voice clothed in my words,
from deep within my soul it speaks.

Each word I write comes with a prayer.
to move all those who chance to read,
and start them on their lifetime quest;
to choose a well-lived life to lead.

I cry inside my silent world
and beg to find a lesser pain;
a pain that can be reconciled
with thoughts of love of self, contained.

The outside world is raging still...
We stumble yet to find our way
and fall unto a darkened path,  
while those we love are led astray.

I close my door once more to hide;
to block the sounds that I recall.
Amidst the ghosts of days gone by
and secrets that we bury, all.

How foolish to believe I’ve healed!
But yet my skin is crawling still,
as I recall the years gone past,
the pain and grief come raging back.

So I stay inside my placid home,
deplete of all who cause me pain,
to find the peace I long to have
and hope for life without the rain.

My heart sings like the songbird
in the warmth of early spring,
as it soars to the heavens,
and delights in the sun upon its opened wing.

It sings of tomorrow and hope for the future.
And leaving behind yesterday's cold,
it awaits the tender green of spring
lying hidden beneath a crust of snow.

My heart dances to this jubilant melody;
my future now within my reach.
I revel in my love of life
and the bliss I feel with each new morn.

Upon the dark and snow filled sky,
I gaze out past the houses glow,
at snowflakes flying past the lights
and blanket all that lay below.

On such a winter’s night as this,
awaiting sleep, both deep and fast.
within the midst of icy winds and
winter’s Polar Vortex blast.

A mug of cocoa in my hand
to warm me from inside this room,
I lay beneath my downy quilt,
and bid the storm winds hasten through.

Pain, like a molten sword,
burns on the flesh of my heart.

Once again, it’s been wielded,
tearing a hole into my unprotected soul.

I am drowning in the blackness,
of its grasp on me.

I lift my prayers to the heavens
to give me strength of spirit,

and wisdom to find the path
to escape its mighty grip.

I woke upon this winter’s morn,
with Christmas in my heart,
despite the news across the earth,
and grayness it imparts.

Reports of quakes and Etna,
with its crest blown to the sky,
while Central Sulawes’ floods,
chased people for their lives.

In Syria, its people mourn,
the tears and blood they’ve shed,
their civil war, it rages still,
marks eight years with its dead.

The fires that swept our golden state,
left thousands without homes,
its victims living now in tents,
with nothing of their own.

While winds of last year’s hurricanes,
have raged on southern shores,
in Florida and eastern coasts,
all shook us to the core.

The caravan of people fled,
from countries to the south,
have braved too much already,
for a wall to shut them out.

Our country, now divided,
on beliefs we hold too close,
while people spew their hatred at,
those who challenge them the most.

And those who are in power,
cannot see beyond their nose,
to what tomorrow wants from us,
and what our world needs most.

But still, I see the kindness,
and the love in passersby,
when someone gives a hand to those,
who need it more than I.

I see the hope in children’s eyes,
where love and truth prevail,
when treated as tomorrow’s hope,
when peace on earth has failed.

So let us focus on the grace,
so often overlooked,
and make our resolution be,
to share our love on earth!

From my earliest remembrance,
to this hour I have maintained,
I've never been contented
with a life of the mundane.

I’ve sought to spend each day in life
in search of curious things,
like art and education,
and the richness that they bring.

I hope to write more poetry
and share my verse in print,
and with my use of written word,
paint art with shades and tints.

I’ve been to many distant lands,
but yet my heart implores,
I seek out farther mysteries,
our planet has in store.

But now my body slows me down,
like most as we grow old,
and though I try, oft I fall short,
of plans I can control.

So, to keep myself companion,
while I will myself to heal,
I’ve formed all my ambitions,
which one day I plan to reach.

Since I was just a little child
I dreamt of life abroad,
in Kenya with the Maasai tribe,
I’ve always been enthralled.

I've fancied a safari,
where the famous five are found,
a land where great giraffes stand tall,
against the setting sun.

But, it is the Land Down Under,
that is first among my plans,
and one day soon I’ll see the coast,
of Sydney once again.

My friends will come to greet me,
though a lifetime I’ve been gone,
and united we’ll share memories,
for the present and beyond.

I’ll go for walks amidst the bush,
and hear the magpie’s tunes,
I’ll stroll beside the ghostly gums;
with nature grow attuned.

I’ll tour along the Southern Coast,
drive past Apostles tall,
and see the sites of Melbourne fair,
with all its cultured draw.

Then off to Kiwi’s northern isle,
with nature’s beauty rare,
fulfilling dreams so long desired,
to glimpse the Mauri’s there.

Waitomo, with its glow worm caves,
and Rotorua’s pools,
with geysers, Eco thermal parks,
and Bay of Islands too.

As I make my way back to the states,
I’ll stop along the way,
to visit Fiji’s turquoise coast,
and snorkel time away.

I’ll learn about the culture,
and partake of Fiji’s fare,
and when I go, I hope to leave,
a part of my heart there.

The coast of California,
on my list of sites to see;
from the Wharf in San Francisco,
to the vineyards by the sea.

I dream of redwoods sure and tall:
the parks and smell of pines,
and stand amid the ancient firs,
lest they pass for all of time.

I plan to visit Florence,
where master artists roamed;
the heart of Tuscan Renaissance,
where da Vinci made his home.

I hope to cruise Amalfi’s coast,
with others at the helm,
to view the brilliance of the sights,
and others in the realm.

While in the South of Italy,
I’ll cross the briny foam,
and walk the hills in Athens,
where ancient Grecians roamed.

I dream of Amazonia,
where man has not destroyed,
and natives live within the wild,
with harmony employed.

The last one on my bucket list,
is one I’d left undone,
when first I made my maiden trip,
and I was twenty-one.

I’d hoped to see the Emerald Isle,
and England’s castles old,
Duke’s palaces and British Tate,
are marvels to behold.

I’ll drive the ring of Kerry,
and the magic Isle of Skye,
to see its Fairy Pools of hues,
and Highland’s brilliance sights.

The lush green grass of Glen Coe,
the Scottish hills await,
would be a lifelong dream fulfilled
when all my trials abate.

With this, my final dream fulfilled,
I see my list complete,
full circle with this Commonwealth,
my restless feet at peace.

But ‘til that time when I am healed,
and I can travel far,
I’ll dream of lands beyond my reach,
and one day touch the stars.

My friends ask me why, I no longer take time,
to take pencil in hand, to draw what’s in my mind,
or to put it on canvas, with paintbrush in hand,
though I’ve tried to explain, they just don’t understand.

So I simply reply, “I now paint on a screen,
or I paint on computer, with words and a theme,
and I use what’s inside me, to bring words to life”.
with a spectrum of colors, they are just as precise.

Their only reply is, “But you are far too good!”
You can’t put your art down!  If only I could…”
Still they can’t understand, nor could I in their place,
that the freshness of art, has since gone with no trace.

To make art with pastel, no longer conveys,
what I felt was important, what I wanted to say.
I no longer enjoy, art’s gestation and birth,
it no longer brings joy, only pain for its worth.

But the pen gives us strength, just as mighty as all
of the art that we see, on the gallery walls.
Each image on paper, with the picture complete,
is boundlessly infinite; each image unique.

There may come a time, when I’ll take up my brush,
to paint what I see, to the canvas I’ll touch.
But for now, I’m contented, to write how I feel,
to paint with my writing, and to share all I see.

I awaken to the hymn of creation,
a chorus of life in the morning light.
The sun, straining to raise its head,
brings light and life to the world.

Ripples dance on the water nearby,
while birds sing the harmony of nature’s song.
Lizards leap into the cool of nearby water,
while crows warn of changes to come.

Whispering on the winds of time,
change dares me, entreating me to follow.
I hold fast, as I follow its lead,
with eyes wide open.

Autumn’s brusque wind slices its way through the remnants of summer,
painting maples in hues of brilliant oranges and reds.
Long shadows of late September streak across the last blades of grass,
as fall’s stark contrasts light the afternoon.

The seasonal wind breathes cold with the smell of autumn in the air.
Autumn’s brusque wind slices its way through the remnants of summer,
while cottony clouds in a sea of cornflower blue, slowly slide out of view,
chased down by v’s of geese as they race across the sun.

Helicopter seeds line the sidewalks, green and gold, as others float on the wind,
down to join with cones and acorns awaiting next year’s crop.  
Autumn’s brusque wind slices its way through the remnants of summer.
Crows, harbingers of the winter to come, make their sad calls.

Squirrels pause to pack their cheeks with Fall’s fare and scurry to secret caches,
their bulging cheeks filled with fallen nuts and acorns.
Fall greets me with a kiss as summer bows to its chill, as
Autumn’s brusque wind slices its way through the remnants of summer.

My song, a melody composed,
on heartstrings of each passing day.
This ballad’s mine, and mine alone,
a verse of life, to sing my way.

T’was never plain and seldom free,
as tempos often changed and rush,
but always, I’ve been greatly blessed
with life’s vast treasures mostly hushed.

The strains that I have sung through life,
at last have finally found their ground:
A tenor voice, in senior years,
the songs I sing, with value found.

I lift my voice, the world to hear,
for ne’er will it be heard again,
as long as there is life on earth,
and time has reached its final end.

You play your song
and I am back once more,
to a day of crushing good-byes.
Sneaking in the back door
of my protected memories
you find me.

I try to hide away
from everyone,
and everything;
trying to hold back irrepressible tears
that stream down
my cheeks.

Collapsing in a pile on the beach,
at the end of a long trail
at the ocean's edge,
my emotions spill out
in pools like blood,
flooding over me.

A rock wall at my shoulder
and shells at my feet,
my tears fall heavy
as I sob through my thoughts.
Writing fails me and my words fall flat;
I am lost between two worlds.

Even after thirty years,
my breath still catches in my throat
to hear your haunting melody.
My eyes still hold tears,
from the heartbreak
of goodbye.

My bedsheets envelop me
with the familiar scent of home
as I lie comforted
in their warm embrace.

Outside my window,
crows call from maple trees
their leaves tipped in gold and ochre,
while raven visitors welcome me.

Sprinkled with bits of bleached sand,
my dashboard is a daily reminder
of my my beach-time walkabouts
where I kept my hopes and dreams.

My tropical adventure,
now just a memory in snapshots
lies packed away with shells and other mementos,
as I embrace tomorrow.

Summer's sultry days
with their myriad of challenges,
have molded me into the woman I am,
and who I will become.

Dark death skirts beaches in blood red,
as coffee colored swells wash in more
carnage to the shores;
we are blindly poisoning our waters.

Toxic plumes of red tide cover the seas,
beaching whales and seals,
manatees, and fishes;
we indiscriminately **** our sea life.

The brisk breeze off the Gulf
brings the smell of rotting death
that is all around;
we are blindly killing ourselves.

Our lifeblood,
the seas and its inhabitants,
slowly slip away;
we disrespect nature.

Mother earth mourns
as we continue
to ****** its inhabitants;
we are dying.

Then the rains came;
they fell in torrents,
flooding over me with pain,
driving me to the ground.

Searing pain, unrelenting,
Its waves of nausea
washing over me,
cutting into my days.

Misery is my tutor,
teaching lessons of life.
I struggle with their mysteries,
so many elude me.

Still the rains fall,
pelting me with stinging tears,
and each day I raise my shield
to challenge the oncoming gale.

Burning, midday asphalt
reaches up to break my fall,
as I crumple in a heap
of broken pain.

Wiping blood and sweat
from my face,
a voice cuts through the
sound of my beating heart.

Gentle hands reach out,
calm and soothing,
lead me to icy coolness
and safety.

Divine messengers,  
press me to ride
their magic medical van
to ER.

Within a world of azure blue,
the mantas glide with angel wings,
and fly on winds of ocean waves,
inside their realm of mystery.

Like ancient beings from the deep,
they flash and shimmer in our light,
with other-worldly mammoth forms;
cephalic fins and flattened frames.

These gentle giants of the night,
draw fishes from the briny deep,
their vivid forms flash to and fro,
feed on the banquet of the sea.

They dance balletic in our lights;
exquisite, rings and summersaults,
with bubbles lit to guide their path,
they glide just past our mortal reach.

These stunning marvels of the deep,
are but a finite sampling,
of what our planet offers up,
far past our wild imaginings.

Art, unborn,
aches to find form;
to manifest itself.
Within me it screams,
while those around
remain deaf to its cry.

It claws to free itself
from mortal chains,
restless to share its vision
with the world;
to tell its story
in verse and beauty.

This art within,
impatient, cannot wait.
It struggles to find
its voice
within my finite days
and world.

Until at last,
like a volcano,
unable to restrain that voice,
it erupts,
and my art flows out,
spilling onto paper.

The words and images
become solid,
taking form,
giving birth to the art within.
Thus, completing me,
quieting the cry inside.

The sea,
angry with a distant storm,
surrenders its treasures
at my feet.

Bubbles and red tide
skirt its edge,
glisten in the early light
as breakers roll in.

Coquinas balance on tip-toe,
dig back to safety
while gulf currents
wash them clean.

Sea breezes
sweep in,
cooling, as the
sun lifts its mighty head.

I cracked the window to my past
wondering, hoping, I was strong enough to bear
what was left of the pain
of the life I’d left behind.

But the pain, still real, erupted inside
ripped wide the scar.
Blood and tears combined, exploded
and filled my mind and soul with fear.

I feel myself slip down that lonely road again
being drawn down that black ribbon;
its blackness seeps in through the cracks in my soul
and muddy the joy I knew.

How can I brace myself against
the tide pulling me,
holding me,
enveloping me,
and dragging me down
until I no longer can breathe
beneath its endless waves?

I fear now I may never be so strong
as to face my memories.
So I entomb these behind a mighty shield
like the Chernobyl of my past.

What’s more important, a gun or a life,
a religion, belief, or a child?

Our focus is lost, on extremes that have cost,
us the lives of the many defiled.

Weapons, religion, and money, we’ve made,
give us power to help or defend.

But the weapons we’ve made, and the choices they gave,
became blood of the many that died.

Religions of earth still dividing our world,
were created for souls to be fed.

And money and gold, here to help, we’ve been told,
made us greedy and haughty instead.

We forget that mankind is much greater than these,
calling us to refocus our hearts.

For these can be solved with one law you recall,
that encompasses all of mankind.

Mankind: our brother, our sister, our mother,
remember, that we all are one.

Let me ask this again, what’s important to men:
a child, a belief or a gun?

We live in times of greatest fear,  
and hear the echo of the past,
in words of those we can’t ignore,
and lessons of historic years.

Wars and their rumors speak to us,
of violence and the end of days,
as voices whisper in the lines,
of those we join in nightly news.

We stop our ears to those who plead,
for us to listen to their truths,
and point our finger for mistakes,
at those who have the most to lose.

We hide our eyes from blatant facts,
because they don’t affect our lives,
and so become a puzzle piece,
of people's war against itself.

The voices held in mortal screams,
of those beyond our backyard fence,
with children paying for our greed,
the future of our lives foretold.

But now with nowhere we can hide,
from evils living in our world,
our future lies upon the truths,
that are so carefully concealed.

It’s past the time we take a stand
within the shores we call our own.
Our country split, beliefs held tight
though voices hushed by fellow man.

The crack of guns in troubled hands
have bloodied floors of learned halls
and made us cry in distraught pain,
to see our young ones die for naught.

But though the crimson stains remain,
its youth rise up against the tide
of those who seek to serve themselves,
and make us hide our heads in shame.

Join with the youth who take this stand
and choose to make their voices heard,
for they are what our future holds,
and make us face our blackened souls.

Once just a doormat under foot
of those she found about in life.
Helpless to loose the one inside,
she hid among her wounds.

She knew her life was made for more,
and spent her days to find a peace.
And rise above the noise and pain
of just an average life.

Her world was such a futile war,
a battle fought against her foes.
This feud fought daily with a prayer
to search for purpose in debris.

These struggles brought her to this day
to close the door and leave the night.
To free what screamed within her soul
for all those troubled yesterdays.

The girl that lived inside of me
has now become a woman freed.
To live her own true spirit born
within a prison cell now flown.

Now both the blessings and the tears
of all the long fought yesteryears,
Have melted into lessons learned
for the all past is left behind.

To find this heart come spilling forth
and dancing gleefully about.
For I am free to live my life
not shackled from the past or doubt.

My blessings now beyond belief
and joy on joy is now released
Tis true perfection our God makes
when once he choses to create!

I hear the bells and see the signs of Christmas all around,
but this is such a special one for me words can’t be found.
Through a year of desperation and a time of healing too;
a special celebration after all that I’ve come through.

Last year God heard me praying for this painful life to end,
and so He sent me angels to mend my heart instead.
Now as I drive down city streets and see lights all aglow,
tears of joy stream down my face for all I’ve come to know.

So I kindly told dear Santa to give my gifts away,
to other ones that need them more than I this Christmas day.
For I’ve been truly blessed with the greatest gift of all;
a peace that can’t be understood and God answering my call.

My house is filled with grateful thanks on this the Holiest night,
and you can find two Christmas trees trimmed with the brightest lights.
The first to celebrate the time of this our Savior’s birth,
the second to remind myself of all that I am worth!

I marvel at this broken child who lived inside of me,
who struggled for so many years just longing to be free.

To live a life unburdened by my dark and early years,
that made my youth a living hell wrapped in unspoken fears.

My haunted past and broken heart could never quite recall,
the missing piece tucked safely back behind a guarded wall.

So well my mind protected me from all those silent fears,
that n'er did I suspect what lie behind those childhood tears.

Like the ghost it was, it came to me to haunt me in the night,
and brought me to my knees when life refused to treat me right.

Then suddenly, though sent by God, you've given me the key,
To open up these long locked doors and set my spirit free.

Now each sweet day is filled with so much joy and hope I find,
that little girl, so happy now, is dancing in my mind!

One night I had a blessed dream just after you had passed,
a dream about a crystal church, a place I’d come at last,
From a dark and dingy basement, through a hole that I had found,
a tunnel lined with precious gems, hues vibrant all around.

I crawled out at the other end and found myself a guest
in a crystal palace like the ones I’d seen from Europe’s best.
The place was vast, so beautiful, but still through glass I saw
the brightest sea of spring green grass spread out from the far wall.

The air shown bright with shimmering light, like glitter dust it wore
and all the walls reflected light I’d never seen before.
I turned to find me in the midst of figures glowing bright,
like beings lit within themselves in pure and holy light.

The angels that surrounded me had gathered all around,
Too busy with their newest guest to see I didn't belong.
I looked to one I knew was you and tried to hug you close,
But you had not yet gone to gaze upon the Heavenly Host.

And though on earth you were my size, you now looked down on me,
I understood, though nothing said, you had somewhere to be.
I watched as others led the way to a violet mountainside,
far off in the distance many walked with others side by side.

New bodies they were given seemed to float along the ground
a flawless, pure perfection given to all that could be found.
I stood there looking at the sight and knew that I’d been blessed,
and when I woke I felt at peace to know you were at rest.

Much time has past since this sweet dream, a vision from on High
was sent to me to calm my heart and say my last goodbye.
Though this it did, I still can see the angels and the hall,
a gift to see a glimpse of what is waiting for us all!

As surely as heaven exists above,
you have found your way into my heart;
your magical voice and hypnotic smile,
your whole being speaks silently to mine.

Your eyes dance in the morning light,
so kind and compassionate,
as they smile beneath canopies of lashes
and move me without a sound.

I cannot forget the times you called to me,
your soul joining mine as we stole away.
My forever love, though only in memory you live.
I keep you alive in dreams wrapped in your arms.

You carry me with you far outside this world,
with your extraordinary reigns on my heart.
Sweep me away with a love I cannot resist,
to a special life for just us two.

You're the best of the best,
one whom I can trust,
my inner most secrets I confess.
You have been my all in all, the best of the best.

You're as deep as the sea
and as bright as the stars.
You're the one that I can count on
for now and through years to come.

You're the person that can hold
the wanderlust in me and keep me close;
the one who steals my heart away
and brightens my every day.