I Believe In Me

For many years of my life
I wore my heart for all to see
Making it much too easy
For others to take advantage of me.

I lived and I loved three times

To the loftiest heights

Always crashing to the ground

When my loves took wings of flight.

I put my whole being into love
Never thinking of myself
Whatever I truly needed
Was put high upon a shelf.

I thought another person

Could make me whole

Until I spent hours alone

Looking deep within my soul.

Life is different now
I found the woman I used to be
I know once again who I am inside
In myself I now believe.

I know what I have to offer

I am kind .... I love .... I care

No one will crush my spirit again

For now I'm wiser and aware.

Come to me in my dreams…………………

Come to me in my dreams, and then

The day will be fine again!

So the night wills more than pay

The desperate desire of the day.

Come on, a thousand times cam’st

Messenger climate radiant

And the smile in your new world and

As kind to others than me!

Or, as indeed does cam’s

Come and let me dream of truth,

And part of my hair and kissing my forehead

And to say that I love you because you allow?

Come to me in my dreams, and then

The day I’ll be fine again!

So the best night of wages

The desperate desire of the day.

Love and a question of Robert Frost

A stranger came to the door at night

And just talked about her husband.

He wore a green-white stick in hand,

And all the burden of care.

He asked his eyes more than lips

For a shelter for the night,

And he turned and looked away from the road

Without light window.

Husband is out on the porch

With “Let the sky

And the question of what the night to be

Stranger, You and Me “

Honeysuckle leaves covering the yard

honeysuckle berries were blue,

Autumn, yes, winter was the wind;

“Strange, I wonder.”

Inside, the bride in the dark alone

Bent over an open fire,

His face pink with red hot coals

And the thought of heart’s desires.

The husband looked at the weary road,

However, he saw, but within it,

And his heart wanted in a case of gold

And stuck with a silver pin.

The bridegroom thought it little to give

A handout of bread, a purse,

A prayer from my heart to God’s poor

Or for the rich a curse;