She Sang


self portrait of sadness
self portrait of sadness (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We were sitting at a table waiting for our food, bored with each other, wishing time would go faster and we could each go our own way.  That’s when the singer appeared.  I didn’t get her name nor do I remember the song.  Later I asked about her but everyone claimed she was a stranger and they had never seen her before.

 

She Sang

Her song was one of happiness.

She sang and my eyes filled with tears.

Memories came flooding back,

Forgotten after all these years.

She sang of love’s precious moments,

She was grateful for all that were shared.

Her music was filled with laughter,

Like our lives when we both still cared.

From the first date our relationship,

Was built on friendship and trust,

Communication, mutual attraction,

And, of course, a little bit of lust.

The first years were celebrations,

Encouraged by relatives and friends,

Our love was pure and magical,

We were sure it would never end.

The singer’s song changed to what was lost,

And I was filled with sadness again,

The feelings we had were gone for good,

There were too many wounds to mend.

Love might have been an overrated emotion,

But the singer said love was still worth giving.

It hurt when a relationship was torn apart,

But without love, life was not worth living.

Although I felt a sadness deep inside,

I would celebrate those years we began as one,

For those experiences were rich with love,

When our lives together had just begun.

Happiness and sadness blended as she sang,

And created a new song to heal our hearts.

All we had loved and our lessons learned,

Became the beginnings of a brand new start.

What Is This Thing Called Love?


Crazy Little Thing Called Love
Crazy Little Thing Called Love (Photo credit: Kaptain Kobold)

 

 

What is This Thing Called Love

 

What is this thing called love

 

That rips and tears at my heart?

 

Knowing how much love hurts me,

 

Why did I allow love to start?

 

 

 

Yet what is loneliness but a need for love

 

A void that cries to be filled?

 

An absence of love that teases in dreams

 

A restlessness that longs to be stilled?

 

 

 

Why do I have tears late at night

 

Endlessly flowing down my cheeks?

 

Is it because I’m desperate for love

 

And for the companionship my heart seeks?

 

 

 

When will romance come my way

 

Giving me a brand new start?

 

I don’t want to see a barren world

 

With no connections to my heart.

 

 

 

How do I find the one for me

 

Who waits for a heart like mine?

 

Where will I discover what is true

 

And find that new love divine?

 

 

 

I’ll wait and hope for ages yet,

 

I know she is somewhere near.

 

Soon she’ll be within my arms

 

Where I keep things I hold dear.

 

 

 

What is this thing called love?

 

No answer will suffice.

 

For it seems to be a combination

 

Of flames, sacrifice, and ice.

 

 

 

Words on Fire!


Words
Words (Photo credit: sirwiseowl)

 

Words on Fire

 

When my muse comes around to inspire

 

My words dance with fire

 

Building castles everywhere

 

Out of dreams and thin air

 

Blending new romance with raw desire.

 

 

 

With each tale that demands to be told

 

Real stories become bold

 

Allowing characters to act

 

Mixing fantasy with fact

 

Grabbing audiences with claws that hold.

 

 

 

Because these words coax and seduce

 

Strong feelings they produce

 

Stirring embers deep inside

 

Where feelings cannot hide

 

Boiling hearts with their own juice.

 

 

 

My words are powerful on a page

 

Or when spoken on life’s stage

 

Gathering no moss as they flow

 

Becoming stronger as they go

 

Carrying the discovered wisdom of an age.

 

 

 

My words are restless and never tire

 

As they pull others from the mire

 

But they carry a deadly sting

 

If venom is permitted its full swing

 

Therefore cautiously I write with fire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The River’s Heart Is Cold


River Seridó
River Seridó (Photo credit: grungepunk2010)

 

The River’s Heart Is Cold

 

The river whispers to me as I walk along her banks,

 

She welcomes me into her depths but I stop and say, “No, thanks.”

 

She tells me she loves me and I almost believe it’s true,

 

Yet I know she’ll be fickle always and someday we’ll be through.

 

She shares the latest gossip she heard in meadows upstream,

 

I say the rumors aren’t the truth and they’re not as they seem.

 

She runs along beside me and her excitement she can’t conceal,

 

And she makes me vow secrecy for reasons she doesn’t reveal.

 

Her playful moods change rapidly especially after a pouring rain,

 

Angrily she gouges out channels when her banks don’t contain.

 

I would claim her as my own but her spirit runs wild and free,

 

She murmurs she loves me too but she’ll never belong to me.

 

I’ll be there to clean up her debris when clearly she’s to blame,

 

The river‘s heart is too cold to trust but I love her just the same.

 

 

 

We’re Lucky to Have Christmas


English: A postcard from 1919, with artwork of...
English: A postcard from 1919, with artwork of Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

We’re Lucky to Have Christmas

 

Time stood still and my heart stopped,

 

When she announced she was leaving that night.

 

It didn’t sink in that she meant what she said,

 

Until she got on the very next flight.

 

 

 

I think of the time I wasted,

 

Letting it slowly slip through my hands.

 

I could have been loving her,

 

Rather than complaining and giving commands.

 

 

 

She promised she would love me forever.

 

I think she intended it to be true.

 

I said I could survive on my own

 

But deep within my heart I knew.

 

 

 

I could have used time in segments,

 

Dinner for two, flowers, a loving glance,

 

Instead I spent time on my own interests,

 

And time didn’t give a second chance.

 

 

 

It was the season to laugh and be jolly

 

And the time to play in the snow.

 

But it was a sad time for me that year.

 

She wouldn’t be under the mistletoe.

 

 

 

We wouldn’t be watching a parade together,

 

From the very first float to the last.

 

I made many mistakes along the way.

 

And now our parade had gone past.

 

 

 

She talked about having quality time,

 

And times we could just hang out.

 

I insisted she was my very best friend.

 

But I gave her many reasons to doubt.

 

 

 

The Christmas lights in that bar were blurry,

 

The drinks were making me cry.

 

I hadn’t told her how much I loved her,

 

Yet I knew I was a lucky guy.

 

 

 

I was ready to go home and decide what to do.

 

I needed some time to think.

 

I heard a voice calling my name,

 

Then, “Cowboy, can I buy you a drink?”

 

 

 

I’ve never seen a face more beautiful.

 

She had returned and was smiling at me.

 

Now I’m a reformed and loving man.

 

I’m sure that’s the way it should be.

 

 

 

That’s my Christmas story,

 

I hope you take a moment to pause.

 

If she hadn’t returned there wouldn’t be Christmas.

 

If you don’t believe what I told you,

 

Just ask my wife, Mrs. Claus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Learning to Take Charge


Ice cream at Expo 2010
Ice cream at Expo 2010 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Learning to Take Charge

 

“I want some ice cream,” the little girl said.

 

“No, it’s late and time for bed.”

 

“Can I watch t.v. for a little while?”

 

“O.k.,” said mom, “because you asked with a smile.”

 

The girl sat on the floor waiting for the news to end.

 

Dad sat down and waited for his program to begin.

 

“Why are you still up?” he asked the apple of his eye.

 

“Mom said I could watch a show or two,

 

But now that you’re here, I guess it’s up to you.”

 

“Could I have ice cream?” the little girl said.

 

“Sure, since you’re up.  Then it’s straight to bed.”

 

Mom returns after a long hot shower.

 

“Why is she up,” mom snaps, “at this late hour?”

 

There is little worse than righteous condemnation,

 

Especially since both contributed to the situation.

 

They go to battle because their rules aren’t applied.

 

The little girl learns to manipulate as time goes by.

 

Their friends choose sides and blame the father or the mother,

 

While the little girl plays one against the other.

 

She’ll be in charge when she becomes a teen,

 

But someday she’ll discover she’s not a real queen.

 

 

 

Nothing More


English: Wind Turbines located outside of Palm...
English: Wind Turbines located outside of Palm Springs, CA (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Nothing More

 

Who is that walking past my door?

 

It is the wind and nothing more.

 

For a moment a shadow hesitates,

 

Then it goes on and through the gate.

 

Who is whispering outside this wall?

 

I’m sure if I looked I’d see nothing at all.

 

Is there a person playing a mean trick?

 

Doesn’t he know I could be really sick?

 

I’m holding my breath within this cell.

 

The shadow is back and I know him well.

 

Around this bed my friends gather and talk.

 

They remember how we used to walk.

 

All voices hush as someone passes the door.

 

I thought, It is the wind and nothing more.

 

My friends are leaving with tears in their eyes.

 

I’m puzzled and ask, “What’s the matter, guys?”

 

But they ignore me as they go out the door.

 

One said, “It is the wind and nothing more.”

 

I don’t understand this turn of events.

 

I’ve tried to comprehend but it doesn’t make sense.

 

I turn to my new friend as we go out the door.

 

I ask, “Is it really the wind and nothing more?”

 

“Your friends are mistakenly blaming the wind.

 

But their way of thinking will come to an end.

 

Some will greet me as I enter their room.

 

Others will panic at my voice of doom.

 

You heard me walking past your door.

 

I enter with the wind, but I’m much, much more.

 

 

 

Lucky Indeed


Is it Your Lucky Day
Is it Your Lucky Day (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Lucky Indeed

 

I thought I was a hammer made of steel,

 

But she softened my heart and made me feel,

 

I was a restless knight riding a spirited steed,

 

But she quenched my fires and fulfilled my needs.

 

 

 

Gentle as the mist drifting in from the sea,

 

Uncontrollable as a flooding river, she’s wild and free,

 

Cleansing as the rain, freefalling from the sky,

 

She’s constantly changing; I’m a lucky guy.

 

 

 

Warm as the sunshine splashing across the land,

 

Teasing with kisses, the kind I understand,

 

Calm even in a storm, helping those in need,

 

She’s right there beside me; I’m lucky indeed.

 

 

 

Straight as a road that guides me on my way,

 

She is the love I’ve been seeking until today,

 

Bringing a fire that rages deep inside,

 

I am a lucky man and very satisfied.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Son, Listen to My Words of Wisdom (Part 2)


wisdom with toast
wisdom with toast (Photo credit: Leonard John Matthews)

 

My Son, Listen to My Words of Wisdom (Part 2)

 

My son, the time for choosing friends is ripe,

 

First, you can tell a tiger by its stripes.

 

A friend can fool you when he growls or talks.

 

You can discover more by the path he walks.

 

Others will know you by the friends you choose.

 

If you don’t pick winners, someday you’ll lose.

 

If a friend observes danger but pretends he’s blind,

 

You would be wise if another friend you’d find.

 

A friend will always tell what is true,

 

Even when the truth might hurt you.

 

A friend is there to watch your back,

 

And he will reason with you if wisdom you lack.

 

A friend will help when there’s nothing to gain.

 

A friend will listen and share your pain.

 

He’ll be there always even unto death.

 

But a fair weather friend has wasted your breath.

 

If he doesn’t want you to be better, he’s not a true friend.

 

Like a drowning swimmer, he’ll pull you down at the end.

 

Someone who always flatters you has a concealed goal.

 

He’s shallow and self-serving and playing a role.

 

Beware if he’s not loyal all the way through.

 

He’ll sell you out and then desert you.

 

A friend is there all life to share.

 

So choose wisely, son, a true friend is rare.

 

My son, as for girls, your future is bright.

 

You’ll find contentment if you treat one right.

 

A girl needs thoughts of love to fill her day.

 

If she has love she has less reason to stray.

 

A girl’s world is different from the one you know.

 

Relationships and emotions help her bloom and grow.

 

Look in her eyes each and every day.

 

Her feelings are important. Listen to what she has to say.

 

Don’t be afraid to show a little romance.

 

Hold her in the moonlight and laugh and dance.

 

Your thoughts will remain positive, son,

 

If you count your blessings one by one.

 

Tell her she’s beautiful and just what you need,

 

Then it’s like dancing and you’ll have to lead.

 

Don’t look for things she might do wrong.

 

Mention what she does right. Then move along.

 

There will be days when your cup is half full.

 

Choose to be positive and life won’t get dull.

 

Surprise her with flowers, whether picked or bought.

 

Keep your romance smoldering and the flames hot.

 

Kiss her each night before you sleep.

 

A kiss will remind her your love is deep.

 

Whisper sweet words as you hold her near.

 

And the wisest of all, son, always be sincere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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