Rating Her Love by Percent

Minute Maid Park
Image via Wikipedia
  • 0%There’s certainly no love, there’s no interest,

            There’s really not much you can say,

            You don’t need to resist, you don’t even exist,

            She is queen of everything she might survey,

            So step aside and get out of her way,

10%    There’s no excitement, too much is the same,

            You’re not even in the same ball park,

            You still lack confidence in your game,

            You won’t draw her interest with any remark,

            The ashes are dead, there’s still no spark,

20%    You’re hoping she’s noticed as you look her way,

            She appears a little nervous, maybe intrigued,

           But you know you can’t continue this endless ballet,

          All your efforts will leave you fatigued,

           She’s definitely out of your league,

30%   Her friends think your comments are funny for sure,

            You have her attention but there’s little chance,

            Because she thinks your behavior is immature,

            She won’t give you a second glance,

            The odds are against a roaring romance,

40%    Watching  you all evening, with a smile she taunts,

            She’s attracted and flirting, a romantic match,

            But she’s not sure you’re what she wants,

            So for awhile she’ll find reasons to detach,

            She’s still hoping there’s a better catch,

50%    She’s comfortable with a friend tried and true,

            She doesn’t want to do you any harm,

            But there’s little physical chemistry between you,

            She sees no signs of love she needs to disarm,

            You’re definitely not setting off any fire alarm,

60%    You might be her favorite, then again you might not,

            There are other good men hanging around,

            As a fixer-upper there’s potential you’ve got,

            But she really wants someone more uptown,

            And she doesn’t want to let you down,

70%    Don’t say love unless you mean what you say,

            This could escalate if you look into her eyes,

            She’s getting serious, she’ll want you to stay,

            If you listen to her feelings you’re very wise,

            You’ll keep her off balance and she’ll get butterflies,

80%    She can’t keep you out of her heart and mind,

            She dreams about you and wants to make the leap,

            She shares from her past hoping you’ll also be inclined,

            If you communicate well, off her feet you’ll sweep,

            She loves you, appreciates you, you’re the one she’ll keep,

90%    She admires your smile, leadership qualities and mien,

            She’s open and frank, she likes your independence,

            She reveals things from her past that need to be clean,

            Secrets make her tense,  she’s let down her defense,

            She dreams of the future and a house with a white picket fence,

100% She wants to make a difference as you weave new strands,

            She gives herself absolutely, unconditionally, body and heart,

            She shows respect and trust, and loves without demands,

            Confident in your love she can concentrate on her new start,

            Nesting, building a new life together, her family a work of art.

My Son, Listen to My Words of Wisdom

Mỹ Sơn
Image via Wikipedia

My son, there are a few things you ought to know,

First off, don’t eat the yellow snow,

When a girl tells you she likes you as a friend,

She means, adios, goodbye, the end,

The tongue has the power of life and death,

Say something nice, or save your breath,

When you think you know something, speak out,

Listen and look wise, when in doubt,

Son, life has no easy answers on how to be smart,

Being always observant is quite an art,

If you look at the friends who surround you,

Your own character comes into view,

When people are angry, listen to what they say,

For what they believe is true will come your way,

Now for the things that can make you better,

Hold these truths close right to the letter,

If you hold anger inside and don’t turn it loose,

It won’t be long before you stew in your own juice,

In colloquial terms, you have to dig,

If you stir a stink, it only gets big,

If you’re knee high in clover you’re doing well,

You’ve hit pay dirt as time will tell,

If you’ve got it made in the shade,

You have no worries, your fortune is made,

The best things in life are not gold or shiny rings,

Love, respect, and honor, are what happiness brings,

Be a person of action, be a person of thought,

Keep out of trouble and do what you ought,

You are wise when you know others and what they say or do,

You are wiser yet, when you really understand you,

My son, I’ll tell you a secret, don’t ever get old,

It’s only for the tough, the simple, and those who are bold,

Now for the real things you asked me about,

The differences between sexes that you have doubts,

If you think you understand women you’re in danger,

The simple truth? Men are strange, women are stranger,

Know that women think differently than a man,

You’ll always be wrong if you don’t understand,

If you ever think you’re perfect, it’s time for a wife,

She’ll love you and correct you the rest of your life,

Men want women to stay the same always,

Women want men to be different every day,

Women can’t keep secrets, you should know that,

If you have a secret to keep, keep it under your hat,

Love builds bridges across unchartered lands,

Everyone is richer, no matter which side you stand,

Love can be magical when your heart it does claim,

Love also can be an illusion that you’ll never tame,

Love takes normal things and dims the light,

You won’t see faults and everything looks right,

A beautiful woman? If you wish to be wise too,

A beautiful woman is the one who loves you,

The best thing in life I hope you soon learn,

Is to love completely and be loved in return.

“Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire!”

Cover of "Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire"
Cover of Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

For a few short weeks my cell was home,

There was no place I could roam,

Visitors came often but not for me,

One snickered, “The truth will set you free,”

But the longer I was held, the more I found,

Truth was beyond the court, it was more profound,

Certain truths solidified, like, the sun will always rise,

Unless there’s a big bang kind of surprise,

I believe in love, even in those times of drought,

When everything I tried just didn’t work out,

I believe in God even though some insist,

“There’s no proof that He even exists,”

As other prisoners served the time they got,

They asked me why I was there, “I forgot,”

I said, because I didn’t want to waste my breath,

Saying a truth like, “Give me liberty or give me death,”

I didn’t want my time to be garnished,

All truths could be challenged or punished,

In a short while another judge reduced my time,

Deciding my incarceration didn’t fit the crime,

My lawyer walked me through the first door,

He said, “Please, just listen, don’t say anymore,

See this machine? It detects truth and lies,

But the machine acts almost human, no surprise,

It might believe the truth I’m telling,

Even though it’s lies I’m selling,

If I can tell a lie without batting an eye,

Or tap my finger, the lie will pass by,

I’ll demonstrate with one little test,

What if a tree falls in a forest,

And no one sees or hears the fall,

Is it true that it makes sound at all?

Or what if a man should make a mistake,

And there is no woman to correct or offense to take,

Is it true he made a mistake?

See, the answers prove me out,

The lie detector leaves a lot of doubt,”

We continued until I had passed the last door,

I realized I was closer to truth than before,

If I wanted the truth to correspond to facts,

I had to be careful with all my future acts,

I didn’t need liars who could be trouble,

I would refrain from the truth or burst their bubble,

 I had been making a long mental list,

Of all types of liars that would always exist,

Lawyers, salesmen, fishermen, politicians too,

All have been known to stretch a few,

Eventually the thought crossed my mind,

I’d stay around women and the truth I’d find,

But once in the world and free as a bird,

I was shocked at all the things I heard,

About women lying, dyeing, tanning, all down the block,

Trying to convince they had been missed by time’s clock,

Sharing secrets that weren’t facts to each other,

About her kids, his wife, someone’s brother,

Telling lies often enough that they became the norm,

And the real truths couldn’t weather the storm,

A grain of truth here, a lie there, it was a trend,

The women were truly as bad as their men,

I came to a conclusion that made sense to me,

Truth is a mixture of what we believe and what we see,

Beliefs and disbeliefs, Santa Claus, faeries, or a ghost,

Lying for good reasons, which untruths do we boast?

Truth is something to be proud of, something to inspire,

Otherwise we become kids, “Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

“Nothing But the Truth!”

Coffee icon
Image via Wikipedia

I raised my right hand and said,

“I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth,

And nothing but the truth,”

The bailiff stopped me, I had just begun,

“We don’t do that anymore, son,

There’s no need to plant that seed,

We try to assume no one lies in truth or deed,

“Then why are we here?” my voice loud and strong,

Isn’t somebody being tried because he did wrong?”

Contempt of court!” the judge roared my way,

“Lock him up, for a week and a day,

He’s prejudiced this trial, I’ll tell you why,

We wanted to find out who would lie,”

I should have been quiet, like I usually do,

I didn’t realize just what havoc would ensue,

“Judge, I have the answer, I surely do,

Anyone who moves their lips, is lying too,”

His face was distorted, he mopped his face,

“I don’t think you have a clue about this place,”

He rolled his narrowed eyes before he said,

“I wish I was a king and I’d say off with his head,”

Instead he sentenced me to a day and a year,

My lawyer explained until the message was clear,

“Justice is blind, and the law is ruthless,

We challenge each person as if he were truthless,”

“See this coffee cup?” He pointed to the one in his hand,

“I’m going to ask you questions until you understand,

Answer the questions truthfully, and do your best,

When I am finished, there will be a short test,”

He chuckled gleefully, “This is as easy as falling off a log,

I’ll lead you to the conclusion this cup is a frog,”

“But what about the truth?” I asked with some doubt,

“Forget the truth,” he snapped, “we want all the facts out!

We want evidence, arguments, burdens of proof,

When it’s all verified we’ll come out with some truth,”

I shook my head, “If a liar tells the truth, will someone believe?

Or if someone normally honest lies, will you know he deceives?

Is truth a mixture of reality and imagination, a poet’s dream?

Or is truth stranger than fiction, just as it seems?”

The lawyer scratched his head and started to grin,

“If you were a lawyer, I think you might win,

Lying for a good reason, twisting truth on a case,

If you stretch the facts a little, you’ll build a good base,

If you lead people to a conclusion with your evidence,

You’ll win most of your cases if the juries you convince.”

He patted me on the back and looked me in the eye,

“You should know the truth, when you’re released by and by.

The truth must be outdated,

At least it’s considered overrated,

However you can get by,

Whether you steal, cheat, or lie,

If you can get away with it,

Don’t let it bother you one bit,

When I was just a child,

Perhaps I was just a bit wild,

But Dad took me aside and said,

“This could probably be left unsaid,

But just so you can sleep at night,

Learn to treat folks just right,

Be honest when you give your word,

So they don’t have to guess what they heard,

And if you shake hands to seal a deal,

Remind yourself your word is real,”

Through the years I’ve stayed on track,

And I don’t see a reason for turning back,

I found it true I could sleep at night,

Just because I did things right.

(Part one)

Wedding Bubbles Forever

Girl blowing bubbles
Image via Wikipedia

It was the strangest of weddings,

An attempt at an unusual scheme,

For bubbles was the constant theme,

The geodesic spheres that were there,

Looked like giant bubbles from the air,

Some of the guests drove in Beetles round,

In bubbles some rolled across the ground,

And gathered in the largest geodesic home,

Round and spacious, no place like dome,

Instead of “The Wedding March” the organist played,

I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles” to start the parade,

The flower girl, a cute little bubbly thing,

Scattered pink bubbles, next to the boy with the ring,

Wearing name tags so the guests didn’t guess at all,

Bubba, the Best Man, came in dancing, having a ball,

Bubbles, the Maid of Honor, was not to be outdone,

She was shimmying and shaking, having lots of fun,

The guests were prepared with bottles of soap,

And blew bubbles to represent joy and hope,

The minister began his speech with a little mirth,

“We live on a large bubble called Earth,”

At the wedding reception things were just grand,

Everyone began dancing, all that could stand,

The DJ used a bubble machine to let the music flow,

When he played the “Chicken Dance”, they let themselves go,

Finally the groom held a large glass of champagne,

To toast his wife, his queen to reign,

And she giggled, “These bubbles tickle,”

When some of the bubbles trickled,

Past her grin and down her chin,

Onto her dress laced with bubble wrap,

Onto her white shoes, past her lap,

But the groom diverted everyone’s eyes,

By singing out loud to their surprise,

And to keep their attention he chose,

To have bubbles go up his nose,

And everyone laughed and called it a night,

While the Bride and Groom drove out of sight,

Above them all, each planet and star,

Were reminders of bubbles wherever they are.

One Autograph for a Ten Year Old

Leukemia cells.
Image via Wikipedia

A ten year old boy lies quietly in bed,

He’d rather be outside playing instead,

His spirit is strong as he welcomes each day,

As he looks at the tubes that keep him at bay,

His smile is there even when he’s in pain,

His treatments are dreadful but he rarely complains,

He’s a brave young man unless tempted to cry,

When he sees the fear in someone’s eyes,

Too young for cancer to put him in strife,

But it’s there uninvited to control his life,

The doctors are doing the best they can do,

They’re waiting to see if the chemo comes through,

Being careful with our words to keep his spirits high,

To meet his wishes the family would like to try,

Signatures he’s requested to place on his board,

From celebrities who are willing of their own accord,

Although bedridden, his eyes would dance,

Knowing someone out there gives him a chance,

Leukemia is not an easy disease to subdue,

Signatures would lift his spirits, perhaps from you,

If you’re a star in sports, music, or screen,

It will make his day for your name to be seen,

Politicians and writers, you’re included too,

Please be sure you include what you do,

If you’re a friend or relative of a fabulous star,

Send those autographs from wherever you are,

His condition is critical, he’s confined to a bed,

The hospital has limits, and no visitors can tread,

If you can meet his request just simply reply,

Mail a short note with autograph to the little guy,

If you would like his address to be sent,

Ask me for his information in a comment.

“Not All the Crooks Are Home!”

Dense Tule fog in Bakersfield, California. Vis...
Image via Wikipedia

Tule fog rolls in from the direction of the old Tule Lake bed,

 Sometimes it catches newcomers to the Valley by surprise, it’s said,

 Other times it creeps in silently, shutting out lights, dense and deep,

 Soothing, a cool mist on my face, a blanket of moist air that will keep,

 Temperatures from dipping down to freezing or it can be a silent alarm,

Reminding me it hides those who are waiting to do mental or bodily harm,

Becky completed her shift at the theater, after wiping the popcorn machine,

 The counter, the fixtures, and all the other things she needed to clean,

Gave a wave and left, not staying to talk because the fog was unusually dense,

 Visibility was getting worse, getting home quickly and safely just made sense,

I swept the lobby, checked the outside doors, and waited for the movie to end,

The front doors I closed as the last patron left, not wanting my time to extend,

Anxious to go, as soon as the projectionist appeared, I turned out the last light,

Wary of people hanging out or cruising the main street looking for a fight,

This night the fog had chased them all away, filling the emptiness with silence,

The fog was soup, blocking sight and sound, in every direction forming a fence,

 I shivered and said aloud, “This is creepy. Even the crooks are home.”

But how could I know I was wrong? How could I know one liked this foam?

Outside of town there were no street lights but a narrow unmarked road,

With visibility limited to twenty feet, it led the way to my abode,

I drove with door open and leaning out, hoping no cars came my way,

Tense and dripping with sweat, I pulled safely into my driveway,

Nothing could make me venture out into the fog again today,

But all along, I was so wrong.

Becky was not so lucky.  The fog was the beginning of her nightmare,

Someone waited for her in the thick gray night and she wasn’t aware,

Wearing a ski mask to hide his identity, next to her house he stayed,

The fog obscured him, but he wanted no chance to be displayed,

 He noted the pattern of her arrivals and had planned this for weeks,

He told no one what he was thinking, disclosure meant leaks,

 Fog was an ideal condition which suited his purpose, he waited to act,

Weather reports were noted daily, and he looked for one fact,

High pressure would bring fog, lifting the moisture from the ground,

It would make him invisible, and he was sure fog deadened all sound,

 He wanted her to be alone, although he could handle any guests,

 This was his first time and he was nervous, he didn’t want any extra tests,

 Tired of feeling controlled by the government and the people in his life,

 He was ready to overpower someone who could give him little strife,

He saw Becky working behind the snack counter but she didn’t notice him,

“This time she would! Maybe she would even like me,” but that was a whim,

 “No, it’s too late for that,” he thought. “She had her big chance,”

 Controlling her by fear had its excitement. He wanted to make her dance,

Down the street an empty house for sale sufficed as his base,

He studied her house plan once again, an exit ready just in case,

With careful planning of every detail, his crime would be hard to trace,

As he looked at his notes he was satisfied, everything was in place,

Becky arrived on schedule, pulled into the garage, and turned the lights on,

 She read for thirty minutes, took her bath, after the drapes were drawn,

The sliding glass door opened, right on schedule she put her cat out,

He pushed past her and roughly jerked her inside, before she could shout,

 A six inch blade pressed against her throat.  He snapped, “Don’t try anything!

Or you will be lying on the floor not able to talk or sing,”

I only want your cash so don’t do anything rash!”

 Relieved that this was a burglary, Becky had no thoughts of rape,

 He continued, “Put your hands behind your back. I don’t want you to escape,”

 He tied her hands behind her back and said, “I’d better blindfold you,

 You might cause me problems, no telling what you might do,”

 She heard him eating something in the kitchen and then he was back,

“Hope you don’t mind if I fixed myself a little snack,”

He rummaged through her dresser, “I’m taking a few things, dear,”

Something about the word he said, suddenly became clear,

 Dear! Her memory was jolted, the words reminding her of a man,

 Who bought popcorn at the theater and off to the side would stand,

He had called her dear that same way. She was sure he was the one,

His voice whispered, “Now, sweetheart, we’re going to have some fun.” 

“You said you just wanted my money,” she said in dismay,

Shut up! I didn’t say you could talk! Be quiet and obey!”

“Don’t hurt me,” Becky whimpered, her voice sounding far and remote,

“I don’t want to hurt you.  Not another word or I’ll cut your pretty throat.” 

He secured her hands to the bedposts and left her blindfold intact,

 Her clothing was ripped off, she was naked but she dared not react,

 Quickly he was on her and thrusting while she endured the pain,

 Afraid he would kill her, if she screamed or cried it would be in vain,

 “You asked for it.  You acted like you were too good for me,

 I knew you wanted it, the way you dressed, it was plain to see,

 You could learn to love me, you know, and it wouldn’t have to be this way,” 

When he was done he said, “We could make love every day,”

 “Leave the blindfold on,” he cautioned, “I’ll be watching close by,

Follow my instructions, dear, or someone will have to die!” 

He could have been somewhere near but she struggled to be free,

After a few minutes when time stood still, finally she called me.

 I walked into my house, out of the fog, when I heard my cell,

I couldn’t understand Becky, she was hysterical, her voice rose and fell,

As I listened, her story began to emerge, about the knife,

About the rape and how he threatened her life,

“He was waiting for me,” she sobbed, “and grabbed me as I opened my door,

He put a knife to my throat.  He raped me!” And then she told me more,

“Becky, did you call the police?” But I knew the answer to that,

 She would have locked herself in a closet after retrieving her cat,

She was wary of the police and all the questions they would ask,

“I’m on my way, Becky.” By herself, I didn’t think she was up to the task,

I called the police and hugged Becky while they asked about her sex life,

 Whether I was the rapist, were we a couple in a relationship with strife,

Was there a reasonable explanation why she was up this late,

Maybe her date misunderstood while she was out on a date,

 Was it a case of payment and she refused to do sex,

Or was it simply a problem she had with an ex,

 The questions were accusatory though Becky’s eyes showed fear,

But the policemen began threatening me for trying to interfere,

They let me to take her to the hospital but even there,

The questions were invasive, it seemed no one cared, 

To the police, Becky didn’t appear to be hurt physically, so it was no big deal,

They could not identify with being traumatized as being an ordeal,

 They continued talking and joking until a captain came in,

 Suddenly they sobered and treated us differently then,

Becky was convinced she knew her rapist but he never went to trial,

Everything that was reported just went into a file,

Because Becky did not have cuts or bruises that could be easily seen,

 The opposing lawyers accused her of venting her spleen,

 “You’re trying to make something out of nothing,” one lawyer said,

 “A lover’s spat gone wrong, you could have made up instead,”

Becky was outraged by the way she was maltreated,

Sometimes I took her to appointments and discussions that were heated,

 But often she went with women who she thought understood,

 She petitioned and marched and did what she could,

 There was progress regarding rape laws but then there were some,

 Who fought to block any headway, each and every crumb,

In one state, a congressman presented a bill to change the terms,

Of the law regarding rape, thus opening up a can of worms,

 Instead of “victim”, the woman would be called “the accuser”,

Instead of being a rape victim, Becky was in the hands of an “abuser”,

Privately one person suggested changing the word “rape”,

To a phrase more suitable to gentile tastes, taking on a different shape,

Rape could be called “assault with a friendly weapon,” which is easier to say,

 Although it would not take the act of aggression and violence away,

Rape could be classified as a misdemeanor rather than a felony,

And wipe away years of progress gained through fears and agony,

As for Becky, she is much more cautious and doesn’t like to be alone,

She carries pepper spray, a non-registered handgun, and her cell phone,

She’s still recovering from reactions she received from people she knew,

She’s not completely healed and she hates that one person through and through,

And when the fog rolls in, she wants to have someone by her side,

 Someone who understands her stress and trauma and can confide,

Usually that person is me because I became Becky’s best friend,

I married her and vowed to protect her till the end.

Love, Eva, One Identified Male, and Me

Special Response Team of the US Mint Police
Image via Wikipedia

Eva said she would be waiting if I came by her house,

She was there on the porch, wearing jeans and a blouse,

Looking casual with her pants tucked into her boots,

Over one shoulder was draped her swimming suit,

Although I wondered about that, I still had my smirk,

I was excited and impatient, just off of work,

We had talked about swimming at our last dance,

What we would do also if we got the chance,

Our bodies said a thousand things without talking,

As we floated across the floor, barely walking,

I felt that sexual itch as she moved with sinuous grace,

Although my steps quickened, Eva kept up with my pace,

I did not want the dance to stop, or to ever let her go,

But she returned to her partner, despite her fevered glow,

If only she had been with me we’d never have to part,

She was a breath of fresh air, into my lonely heart,

She bumped into me once as she went to fix her hair,

And in my pocket I discovered a note she had placed there,

Eva’s phone number, her address, a place we could meet,

All the important things so we could later greet,

When I called we soon became fast friends,

We were soul-mates, sharing even the latest trends,

We had much in common, but I wondered about her man,

“I can’t tell him yet,” she said, “Please try to understand,

I want to be with you,” she paused, “but he’ll never set me free,

I’m not sure just what he’ll do, but he’ll never let you have me,”

Such ominous words Eva said and then cried that night,

But fearing to love is like fearing to breathe, “I’m ready to fight,

You are the one I want,” I said hoarsely, “But tonight,

I want to love you, kiss you, and make you truly mine,”

“See me tomorrow,” she said, “when you first get off work,

I know a place we can be alone, and no one else can lurk,”

We would talk by the river, with the moon as our guard,

Lock up our common sense, and then our clothes discard,

Turn our imaginations loose and let our love run free,

We would love until the morrow, under the tall oak tree,

Now I could see her waiting but pacing back and forth,

I was coming from the south but she kept glancing north,

In front of her yard a car came to a slow stop,

She stared but there was no time to move or drop,

I saw a gun appear and then the sudden flash,

A window shattered, another one suddenly crashed,

I couldn’t just wait until the man had emptied his gun,

Love sparks courage, to me the war had just begun,

I aimed my car, pushed the pedal, and felt a satisfying crash,

I was going for the gun but into me someone did smash,

The police arrived a little too late for this important date,

Quickly I was on the ground, handcuffed, ready for my fate,

A SWAT team had been two streets over, finishing up a drug raid,

They were not in a mood to listen, their minds already made,

I was out of control, according to what the police had seen,

Then Eva arrived and saw me, and tried to explain the scene,

The three of us were taken downtown to sort out this mess,

Trying to determine who was wrong, at first was anybody’s guess,

Gradually reports came in from detectives who verified her tale,

Finally I was out, but also released was one identified male,

In the custody of his lawyer, who was as crooked as a dog’s hind leg,

The lawyer knew judges and got what he wanted without having to beg,

But I had been touched by love, for me it was a permanent bond,

I went back to Eva’s house, wanting her, needing her to respond,

I knocked once, twice, but she refused to open the door,

“I love you, I truly do,” she said loudly, “but I think I love him more,

I know he’s a little misguided, but he loves me just the same,

He wouldn’t have missed if he didn’t love me, to him it’s just a game.”

Confused and disheartened, I could no longer be part of this strife,

I was still in love with Eva, but I had to get on with my life,

Part of my heart belongs to her, but I’m alive to tell this tale,

The two of us couldn’t fit in her heart, me and one identified male.

What’s Prayer Got to Do With It?

People praying during Durga puja. Original tit...
Image via Wikipedia

When You already know what I’ll ask,

Is it to stretch me well beyond myself,

So I can see the greatness of Your task?

What’s my role in the words I say,

What’s my heart got to do with how I pray?

Let my heart be a sounding board,

As I talk to Your son, the Holy Lord,

Fill my spirit with compassion and love,

Let all my words flow from above,

What’s prayer got to do with it?

It lets my heart and mind be a perfect fit,

It’s not in the beauty of words I spout,

But how my soul takes away the doubt,

You are the one I want to magnify,

 Your word flows through me, it’s not about I,

There are no words that I need to say,

Except Your will be done, I will obey,

What’s prayer but conversation between You and me?

Your blood shed on the cross is what I see,

I pray for Your love to cover all the sins,

That the world displays, and those within,

I’m still learning what I need to say,,

Our heavenly Father, give us this day,

The things we need for our daily bread,

Help us face those things we dread,

Teach us how to reach out and forgive,

The wrongs of others with whom we live,

Deliver us from the evil that fills our day,

The temptations that seem to come our way,

All the power and glory to you belong,

I’ll celebrate Your love all life long,

I’ll pray for the boy lying in a hospital bed,

I don’t know why it isn’t me instead,

Nine years old with a terrible disease,

He hasn’t seen life, so take me please,

Let life through his veins run its course,

Please don’t let death take him by force,

I’ve wasted years doing things not so bright,

He’s too young to turn out his light,

Innocent as a lamb, he’s caught in a trap,

If it’s his time to go, let him sit in Your lap,

The beauty of this world won’t be his home,

But there he can dance and have places to roam,

With tears in my eyes I approach Your throne,

I’m ready, take me instead as one of Your own,

He’s nine years old, lying in his lonely bed,

Heal him with Your power, take me instead,

I’ll pray for the girl who cries in the night,

There is no one to listen to her sad plight,

We turn away from accepting her abuse,

Insisting nothing can be done, there’s no use,

The Holy Spirit listens as her spirit cries,

Within each of us part of our own spirit dies,

All the promise, her hopes and dreams,

Are not important to us it seems,

What can we do if evil is around?

We call on the Lord for demons to be bound,

Each of us knows of wounds that need to heal,

Our hearts are willing and we want to feel,

The fields are ripe with broken people today,

Why should we wait when we can pray?

I’ll pray for husbands to love their wives,

And wives to respect their husbands all their lives,

For the couple who argues in the night,

Haven’t they seen love’s pure light?

God has called them for so much more,

So why do they choose just to ignore?

Their hearts are hard, it’s all about self,

There’s not room for two egos on their shelf,

Their children watch and learn how to fight,

They think love is weak, and might makes right,

Rarely do children see their parents in prayer,

Little do they forgive or show compassion and care,

Do they really hate the ones they love?

Should they be listening for guidance from above,

What’s so important about daily prayer?

It awakens our spirit and feeds it there,

I’ll pray for the homeless on the street,

Who struggle daily for food to eat,

They have no permanent place to stay,

In alleys at night, and shelters by day,

What little they have is precious to them,

Their pasts are dark and their future grim,

Arrested by the police because they trespass,

When they guard against storms under an underpass,

I’ll pray for the homeless, society’s outcasts,

That someday all this will be in the past,

Prayer is the starting point for each of these needs,

It’s just the place to plant the seeds,

These gardens of lives need tender loving care,

The work is ready, and now I’m prepared,

To carry out the tasks that started with prayer.

Condemned For Loving Too Much

Condemned for Loving Too Much
Poetry Palace Award

Loving (TV series)
Image via Wikipedia

“Condemned for Loving too Much”

All was quiet in this forgotten town,

Because of the record snow tumbling down,

Yet in the plaza crowds were shopping still,

Looking for entertainment to get their fill,

There were walkers, and talkers, shops all ablaze,

Restaurants still open but countless delays,

Marge was waiting patiently and talking to a friend,

This day had been perfect, she didn’t want it to end,

Somehow, she noticed him, standing off from the crowd,

His gray eyes fixed on her, haughty and proud,

His brown coat, his lean frame, the thin twisted nose,

Why she alone could see him, she could only suppose,

His eyes asked questions, the answers she didn’t dare,

What kind of man was he? One that didn’t care?

Was he an angry ghost or a demon of some kind?

Why were his thoughts penetrating her mind?

Somehow in his hands he held her new fate,

She thought, “Is it possible to love someone you hate?”

As this thought surfaced, Marge pushed it away,

She had never seen him before, not until today,

“He is not attractive,” she thought, “not in the least,”

But he continued to stare at her like she was a feast,

Her face flushed, and deep within the heat began,

Rising in waves until perspiration ran,

She was uncomfortable, she needed time to think,

But he watched her diligently, not once did he blink,

“Is it possible to love your enemy?” she thought,

“What is it about me that’s so eagerly sought?”

She was thirty-three years old for goodness sake,

And ten pounds too heavy, give or take,

Yet she was flattered by his attention even more,

Unlike her friends, all her faults he chose to ignore,

He willed her to move forward, but he didn’t insist,

Although she closed her eyes, she was helpless to resist,

Silently Marge turned, her demon she faced,

When he smiled, her legs trembled, her heart raced,

She took one step forward, two, then three,

She unbuttoned her blouse, letting him see,

She hated him and yet she was offering her kind,

Melting into love, her body yielding to his mind,

Seeking his hatred, demands, contempt to slay,

Doing what she could, loving his hate away,

An act of love determined Marge’s fate,

Is it possible to love, someone you hate?

All is quiet again in this forgotten town,

But there is one less demon standing around,

No one wants to question or be out of touch,

Should Marge be condemned for loving too much?

Up ↑