~*~ My Heart & Soul In Words ~*~

I Give You ~ Myself...
My Heart & Soul In Words
On These Few Pages…

There Are Some Wounds I Never Speak About,
Some Things That Words Have Done To Me
That None Will Ever Know...

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions
May wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
As the north wind lays waste the garden.|
For even as love crowns you
So shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth
So is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses
Your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and
Shake them in their clinging to the earth.
The Prophet by Gibran Kahlil Gibran

Life is a learning process
After a while you learn the subtle differences
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul
And you learn that life doesn’t mean leaning
And company does not mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents are not promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open,
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your hopes on ‘Today’
Because tomorrow’s ground is to uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns if you get to much.
So you plant your garden, and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure…
That you are strong
And you really have worth
And you learn and learn and learn…
With every ‘Goodbye’ you learn.

One element of maturity
Is the realization that
We don't get away with anything.
Any advantage gained
Or convenience taken,
Any private procrastination
Or insincerity,
No matter how quick
Or subtle in passing,
Is paid for.
Not dramatically.
Often not noticeably.
But,
Enough that we learn,
Eventually,
That it is not worth it.

Waiting...

I wish I had a lover
Instead of
Letters from strangers.

The arrival of mail
Is the only time
Someone hands me movement.
Nothing real
Is going to happen, yet,
Except the ritual
Of Waiting...

Dedicated to Paul Edward Roberts
of Kentucky & Other Parts Unknown

You put me on a pedestal
And circling around me scanned
My form, my figure, my design
Upon your gilded stand.

Not liking what you saw
Your took the chisel in your hand
And chipped first here,
Then there to make
Me look like 'no man's land'.

You took layer after layer
But when you reached my core
You could not break me down, my love
No, not one small dent more.

ANGERED

You pushed me off that stand;
A sledgehammer you found
You flailed repeatedly at me
Till the rubble strewed the ground.

Until this day I never knew
That I was not revered,
But smashed to bits because
My love was what you feared.

The 2% Question

So he says to me...
"But honey, I am so good to you
98% of the time
Can't you overlook that 2% when
I am an Asshole?
Doesn't it balance out?"

Well let's see...
2% of the time your one voice is
Raised against me calling me
A fat ass stupid bitch.

2% percent of the time
your one hand is
Cutting off the blood supply to my lower arm,
Your five fingers leaving marks there
For weeks to come.

2% of the time your a drunken lunatic
Your two hands at my throat,
And I am so scared I actually scream
Before you set me free.

2% of the time you're one faithless lover,
And I worry if someday you'll bring home
A disease that will kill me.

2% of the time you have 'No Time'
For my conversations
Not wanting to know
How I feel, what I want or need
Not even caring.

2% of the time you haven't a clue
How much I'd like to hurt you
Just 2% as much as you hurt me.

So
To answer your question...
No.

For we lose not only by death,
But also by leaving and being left,
By changing and letting go and moving on.

NEXT POEM HERE

I celebrate all that is me ... for I am a Woman...
a beautiful creation ...
who has arms of grace ... and a heart of hope ...
strong as steel ... full of wisdom...
and the bravest of all."

NEXT POEM HERE

< Many blessings to you,

Cheryl Ann

My heartfelt thanks for so graciously ...

Please visit her pages ...

Email Marsha ...

~Made with Love~

Created Especially For You
By Me
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