Sunday, June 29, 2014

Happy Birthday Friend

Today the day that is all yours
To have, to love, and fun galore
May each moment sing your praise
for this the day we all must raise
Our voices one and all in song
That catchy tune and little rhyme
May each moment bring you peace
Joy not sorrow; smiles that last
For one more year of you has passed
and each day you grow stronger too
a friend of mine and always true
Happy Birthday Shane and
Hugs to YOU!

- Trish 2014

Monday, June 23, 2014

Why are you a writer?

I am a writer because there is a story to be told.
I am a writer because there are lonely hearts that need comfort.
I am a writer because ideas cannot be broken by abuse.
I am a writer because the tears of my effort set my soul free.
I am a writer because the weak have no voice.
I am a writer because long after the hate of the world dies the story of love will still be told.
I am a writer because a simple word can stir the mighty heart, can bend the will of iron, can ease the pain of hurt, and touch the heart of God.
I AM A WRITER and long after I am dead my story will still be!

- Trish 2014
(a writer's confession)

Saturday, June 7, 2014


We are not the pain but pain is ours
That flows through bone and marrow.
Is this the most that I can shoulder
or more beyond my charter.
The scale that measure grain and wheat
cannot the feeling measure
but simple things as 1 to 10
are here to gauge our fervor.
Was this my 10? Am I near that?
or 9 or 8 or better?
The pain is measured in more than tears
and comes in waves of terror. 
The stress beyond is worse than flesh
when one is hurt by other
That pain beyond the number 10
and I the one, the wiser. 
For now I know, that merely flesh
can never meet the prior
and I will cede to death his due
before I pass the other.

- Trish 2014


March tick move click tell the time and keep the beep that time it must not stop for one but keep on tick and tock and run it is the single thing that wont be measured twice but on it goes and on tick on tock and move and same beat for each single foot the cannot claim a moment more but tick and tock and move of clock the beat it keeps the time of day or quiet slowly moves away it is for no one to dismay but tick and tock and onward go the best of time is on the move for we must all be paupers to the beat the never rest it’s time.

Loves lost anew

To know the way and yet be blocked
From heights where even fey not trod
To depths below the vast of sea
And corners dull with age agree.
Thus onward press the love in time
To hear with tender verse or rhyme
Her chest a snowy softness new
And wings that gold be jealous too.
Why is she daft to make a stride
On hoofs of amber, legs to ride
Yet forward till the ides of time
Break down the wayward youth and prime.
The mind not clear nor thoughts renew
This age old test of sullied youth
She is the maiden fair of form
And ponders his such manly form.
She thinks of wonder and of pride
That ended love so dear astride
She prances on with lowly hide
To sing the sonnet beware inside.
But soon the old and rusty pitch
Will form and take her neath the ditch
To depths below and songs of old
Shall quiet her deep longing throat.

Sunday, May 18, 2014

At the bar

The place it's packed from chair to chair
My makeup check, all perfect there.
I sip and wait to see if then
I'll get a look but who, and when
the place, the men, my heart goes fast
Is that a look, a glance, a pass?
It is, he's cute, but will he ask?
Finger quick to hair pull back.
I chance a look, a smile comes by.
IT IS, he's looking this way that.
oh, cute, he has that wavy hair
Those hands,oh my, what a pair.
I look away lest too much chance
and sip again and calm my stance
Am I too forward looking there?
Will he ask; Oh I'd love this dance.
Was that a smile, I could not tell.
The look, I've seen it, know that glance
Oh please, must I just open fast?
I'll mess it up, I'll miss this chance.
To see if he will drop his mask
and open up to me no ask.
He's looking away, I'm not the one.
He doesn't think me good or fun.
I'll never get the question now.
A sip, a gulp, oh fun.

- Trish 2014

Saturday, May 17, 2014

Spring songs

Fingers tap upon the pane
Pat, pat, pitter, and pat sustain
The mind it glows to hear the song
The wind it tosses drops around
This sudden calm of summer rain
As cool a drink the flowers gain
Oh, sun is this your risk or bain
To be chased off, by clouds maintain
But soon, the shafts of sunlight play
Over corner, brush, or roof top long
To cover all, to dry the throng
And once again the leaves in song
Dance this way that, as if they long
Do reach the fall and be set free
In flight of fancy about my knee
I stop and watch the sun lit trees
And wonder what their sonnet be.

- Trish 2014

Saturday, April 26, 2014

I stumbled when I flew

I stumbled when I flew today.
I looked to see who saw me then,
But knew the audience was just Him.
I wondered how from lofty height
He lets me stumble, learn what's right.

For me, I blush and wonder why
He loves me 'nough to let me cry.
For life is full of joy you see
which goes beyond the tears I sigh.
I know my hurt is soon be fixed
He'll welcome me with hugs a mix.

But till that day, I'll stumble more
with each flight made and pride quite sore
I'm not the perfect, just forgiven,
Not so great this side of heaven.

I stumble more and smile inside.
For heavenward my Father sighs
and answers with a hearty smile
my needs that stack 10 times to high.

For joy you see is not mere laughs.
But learning contentment with my tasks.
For each one has her role to play.
Mine is right here, till this very day.
then stumble when I fly away.

- Trish 2014

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Writer's Block

Upon the page I seek to prose
With pen to paper let emotions flow
Such lofty tones my thoughts take flight
What shall I write, what tones make right?

But paper stares right back at me
As if to ask, how silly be
I go to write but stop mid stride
You dare insult my simple pride?

I am the writer you're just my muse
Dear paper don't you try a ruse
Your tricks wont work I shan't be moved.
I'll write regardless of the news.

But then with awful shout I learn
Blank paper has great power spurn
To stop the writer dead in tracks
and send her packing ideas she lacks.

- Trish 2014