of an owned place worth coming home to signifying
stablity without foreclosure concerns or accidental deletion.
A solid place built not solely of
stone, brick, mortar, beams; treated wood,
weather-proof shingles but of determination, patience,
sacrifice- building blocks thought intrinsically good.
Home construction’s serious business
bringing stress relief when its measured pieces fit right;
costing dearly yet reimbursing lucrative gains,
a personal wise investment when others are sinking in plain sight.
Building a house. It’ll soon be done. Building a dream stacked to be won… That near final race worthwhile to the end. Incremental, patient steps taken slowly to ascend stairs to a home almost completly constructed held together with
grace’s mortar, faith’s nails- less than one iota of naysayer’s sand! A medical degree soon to be awarded- a solid foundation for a house under construction, completed with a degree, then a license in hand.
Daylight Moon
Daylight Moon
Daylight moon; no stars… To its right, sun’s setting still two fingers in front of eyes distance from the horizon; To its left, wispy clouds attempting to envelope a proud moon showing before night has turned.
Poor Miss Sun
never gripes sharing
her already crowded cloud-peppered sky with Mr. Moon,
who without permission,
comes uninvited intruding
to usurp day when only night’s debut he’s earned.
Were she to try a similar stunt,
Mr. Moon would be bent out of shape
into a crescent before his lunar time.
Such a premature contortion might render earth shattering consequences! Just goes to show how Mr. can get away with anything without concern while Ms must contain herself repressing curiousity, selfish thoughts. That he has his way at night and many times during day, makes it hard to discern
fairness in a universe called balanced
where lop-sided’s reported as straight,
opposite but equal means half’s got the advantage;
a sun must bed by nightfall while a moon can stay up late.
Sun’s a human finger’s distance away from the horizon now…
Mr. Moon’s happier; his counterpart will soon disappear.
Alone, he can then enjoy memories of daylight in starless skies.
A most worthy opponent will be casted out of the spotlight
casted by night’s twinkling, capturing the fascination of upward gazing guest sighs.
Hail daylight moon without accompanying stars
feeling on top of the world
as he wears the rest of the universe like a crown on his head.
But at his bottom always lies a sun
reclaiming her thrown for there is always daylight somewhere.
Gift In A Leopard Print Box
Gift In A Leopard Print Box
Just wrap up some love
packed in a leopard print box.
Then from Heaven above
get Angels to carry away rocks
that have tripped me
and slipped me
up all through my life.
Then set my feet straight
so I’ll tumble no more.
God how I’d hate
to fall down like before.
Life’s dropped me so
much my head really spins.
And I do not know
How to flee from my sins.
God sent His own son
I’m told to help win
though death has begun
to push itself in.
It’s hard as a woman
to stand up, be erect.
When life’s got its plan
and you aren’t perfect.
So, send me no gifts
purchased from designer stores.
I’ll take one that lifts
cleansing all of my sores…
My mind’s sore from disaster. My body’s sore from hard work. My spirit’s sore sometimes ever after. My heart’s sore from love’s lasting jerk.
Buy me no stuff lasting less than a year. Just love me enough propping me up here and there when I travel. I’ll need constant devotion. Cause a life can unravel when far across an ocean.
Separated from support,
distanced from love.
Forgetting how to resort
to seeking help from above.
Pour into me your strength
during such a dark time.
When prayer carrying me at length,
comes through your lips, not mine.
Gift me the power to endure
knowing you too tow the line.
When my pleas can’t procure
what my soul needs to find.
Please keep me in mind
when I’m not in plain view.
That gift’s the needed kind
to strengthen and renew.
Please gift me all I desire
placing it gently in a leopard print box.
I solemnly promise no fire,
storm or determined ox,
will have advantage over me
because the thoughtfully loving gift you give
free of plastic swipe tags - selflessly,
will aid me through life in breathing as I live!
Mo-Dad
Mo-Dad
Do men tuck nurturing, tenderness into unspeakable places
looking on when children fall and are bruised with stone faces?
Society dictates they keep dearer sentiments buried deeply somewhere
deemed unmanly to surface for more that a blink, a hint of a care.
Intense barber shop politics and sports conditioning are partly responsible for this tribal commissioning.