Wednesday, September 15, 2004

5-A (1998)

you.
me.
artist's pens.
poet's words.
we would
make
a
great team.
allow
the
poet
to dream.
and watch
the
dreams
come to
life
from
your
talented
pens.

©1998-2004, all right reserved

Category Five (1998)

My life is a hurricane.
Force five and increasing.
My soul can take no more of the battering it has been subjected to.
The toll is high
And I am not prepared to pay such a high cost for my sanity.
The winds whip through my existance and cause damage I cannot repair alone.
But no one seems to be there when I need them most.
I am afraid I will never
recover
Then what will become of me?
Just another statistic in the ever changing world of my being.
I am afraid.

©1998-2004, all rights reserved

Thursday, September 09, 2004

Golden Fields

Take me to the golden fields
Where the heroes of war are laid;
Please, honor them with respect
The ultimate sacrifice made;
Pray for the loved ones left beneath
Those gleaming markers of stone;
They gave all to keep us free
Never they will be alone,
For God keeps them in His care
Their final honor won;
Their names written in His own hand
Beside the name of His Son.
Take me to the golden fields
Where the heroes of war are laid;
Forever we shall be in their debt
Through death our freedom paid.


©2004 all rights reserved.