This day is perfect so far.
I haven’t hurt anyone.
So maybe I should get a star.
I’ll pin it on my chest
and though I haven’t done
I haven’t been a pest.
What have I earned so far?
Why should it be understood
That I’m trying to be good?
Why make things so complicated?
Don’t I earn stars and points
For doing nothing?
March 25, 2017
“Do you think I’m ugly?” she asked me.
She was beautiful and I couldn’t agree.
“You are lovlier than the most beautiful flower,
But why do you ask, at this late hour?
Have I ignored you for too long?”
A man who answers quickly is usually wrong.
I was careful with words I might say.
She was sensitive at this time of day.
She said, “I have a zit on my face.
If it’s there tomorrow I’ll be a disgrace.”
It was a small bump and so easy to get.
I should not say anything that I might regret.
“I don’t see anything on your pretty face.
I’ll always think you are beautiful in any case.”
“You’re following the rules down to the letter,
you’re being nice to make me feel better.”
“Of course,” I replied. “I don’t want you to be blue.
I want you to know I’ll alwawys love you.”
Her tears stopped and she considered what I said.
“You’ll still love me is my eyes are puffy and red?”
I answered, “Today, tomorrow, every day in time.
I’ll love you forever and I’m glad you are mine.”
She smiled before she walked away,
I sighed. “I am just a man,” I thought.
Can I be sensitive day after day?”
Hearing what she was feeling is a major task,
Lord, have mercy, is all I ask.
I’m not a coward,
So why do I stay away from a crowd,
When it’s too rambunctious or too loud?
I’m not crazy,
So why do I believe politicians,
Who promise the moon and tell everyone to sacrifice,
Even though controlling the money flow,
By limiting it to a lesser amount would suffice.
Why do I ask for a cure
For diseases like cancer,
i’m sure there has to be an answer for cancer.
I’m not lazy, a coward, crazy, or a trouble-maker,
Why do I ask for all to do a task?
Why bother to help my sister or a brother>
Can I make the world a better place,
By urging others to a faster pace
While I use nothing but words?
My words are too silent.
They wait for action,
For action speaks louder than words.
March 23, 2017
When I was young I created a bold plan,
Nothing could stop me from being a man,
A man of courage, of faith, of love,
Always receiving help from above.
The first steps were easy to make,
Always being honest and never fake.
The world was mine in every way,
But new choices arrived every day.
I wanted too much and settled for greed
Not satisfied with only what I need.
I was too hasty and forgot my plan,
I could not conquer my inner man.
I’ve adjusted my plan to live with others,
The world is full of sisters and brothers.
That man in the mirror I always see,
A man of courage and faith, he could be me.
But I must be wise and stay with my plan
Choosing love as I conquer my inner man.
via Daily Prompt: Conquer
Posted in love, People, poetry, Religious, Uncategorized
Tagged choices, conquer, courage, greed, love, plan, wise
I’ve had a pity party, it’s true.
Seems it comes right out of the blue.
But I wonder what I can do.
It doesn’t wait for every guest
Nor does it hang around at my bequest.
Pity Party, show me laughter, not the tears,
Give me hope without any fears.
Tell me in dreams about despair.
I might say my party begins,
When all laughter and fun ends.
I try to urge each pity party to go away,
Bluntly insisting it can’t stay.
Pity Party, why are you here?
From the depths of despair you appear
And ruin my day. What else should I say?
Too often I languished in despair,
While you encouraged my presence there.
But what can I do
To get rid of you?
No more pity parties for me,
Turn me loose and let me be.
Your insidious being will be blocked at the door.
Get the hint. I don’t want you any more.
On a hot spring morning when no wind was blowing,
A hive divided into two groups,
An old queen,preparing to leave
And a new queen, sizing up her new home.
Too many bodies in too small a room,
The heat was unbearable,
A time to zoom.
Many bees clustered
On the outside walls because
Scouts were already on their way,
Searching for places a hive might stay.
Oriented by sun,
The swarm lifted into the sky,
Circling as a group of one.
When the scouts reported all was good,
The old queen left the neighborhood.
On a nearby branch they clung to each other,
Sixty thousand workers, a few drones, and the mother.
After a short rest to see who was still there,
A series of flights and a new home was found,
A hole in a tree thirty feet above ground.
The queen found a good spot,
Where the workers could build and it wasn’t hot.
A foundation of wax was prepared and quickly done,
The swarm became a colony and began thinking as one.
A swarm of workers, a few drones and a queen
Hidden in the branches and rarely seen.
Angels bring me ideas and guidance,
Dreams about things I want to hear,
And dreams about events still to appear,
Mind boggling, or catastrophic,
Warning me to avoid places or people,
Where events will be out of control.
Some things are shouted or blasted by horn,
Others are whispered in the early morn.
Should I be like Noah, laughed at and scorned?
A man crying in the wilderness, tattered and torn?
I like dreams that speak of prosperity and love,
But I listen to all that are sent from above.