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

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)

10

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

Time

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.