poem
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Knee to knee on your porch Hands intwined, fingers tracing So simple, yet so great ❤️
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My cares, So great, Moving me to doubt. Your love, Much greater, Making me believe.
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My mind is at ease On a cold winter’s night With a book in my hand And my lamp burning bright But come winter’s morning I don’t feel so nice With a scraper in my hand Trying to break the ice From my vehicle Which is frozen over The flakes coming down The
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Two men of two colors, Up in arms, With one another Over the other’s skin. Yet from their bruised heads Neither one can see Their spilt crimson Is the same shade. The fight presses on. Both men nearly blind, By their crimson or by rage? Neither man can tell. Can you?
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This poem I co wrote a few years ago with one of my good friends Gabrielle Henderson. She does the whole poetry thing better than I do. We just left our imagination take us away as we texted lines back and forth. Writing this poem got me hooked into poetry. Am I good at it-
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Good day friends and family, and Happy Sabbath. I hope everyone had a good week. I was going to share this with you last night, but my body demanded rest. Nevertheless, onto yesterday’s wisdom. About two months ago, I applied for a job at a writing publication in Nashville, Tennessee. Just like the last job
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A severed branch Laying in withered leaves Inches from a flowering tree Disconnected from life An adrift soul Lingering in an ailing world Distant from The Great Healer Disconnected from life FOLLOW ME: Instagram Facebook
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