41. It Will Take Work
We can get back what we lost.
We can replenish the treasure taken.
We can enjoy a better way.
But it will take work.
We can get back what we lost.
We can replenish the treasure taken.
We can enjoy a better way.
But it will take work.
Thank you so much for stopping by and taking the time to leave your thoughtful words.
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I sat at my dresser this morn
And opened the bottom drawer
To try and find which mask to wear
That I hadn't worn the day before
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I believe the beating in our hearts
was put there to remind us
that even when we feel alone in the world,
a part of us marches on,
Have faith
that although it may seem
like the good has come and gone,
there will be better.
Wow! I love it. My kind of writing. Short, to the point with powerful words, and a great message. I have witnessed firsthand how better has come, many times.
baby, during the nights when the midnight sky
falls heavily onto your bones and wraps you
in its melancholic embrace
Of this I am certain:
your heart is a tender
wound that will always heal,
wears grace like a grown,
We are soft and feminine,
Pretty and stylish,
We are strong in heart,
We keep going on and on,
May you know you are loved,
Every step of the way,
May you always have time,
For one another each day.
You slipped and fell
We all have too
So please don't think
That it's just you
I truly appreciate the outreach, Ann! Your encouraging words help me to believe that I'm, hopefully, at least touching a few hearts... which is all we can ask for really as we share a piece...
Dark forests are filled with birds and trees
Sun shines through the clouds with ease
There might be darkness, but the light won't cease
To dominate the day.
I gracefully bloom in July,
Clothed in a delicate silk,
Fringed with a delicate lace,
Sprinkled with the color of milk.
This is a very beautiful poem. The inspiring topic and the perfect rhyme add charm to the poem. I can picture the lily standing in the field, a glimmer of beauty in its entire surroundings,...
I had a little seed that I had found upon the ground,
I kept it in my pocket where it was safe and sound.
What may it be, this tiny little seed, now tucked inside my cloak,
could it be a sugar maple, or perhaps a mighty oak?
I was just an innocent child, so pure and so fragile,
Unaware of the darkness lurking, ready to defile.
Trapped under evils' demise, in a world so vile,
Where shadows danced with malice, leaving me frozen in fear.
If you could see beyond your weeping tears,
To where the sunshine sparkles once again,
Then would those drops of pain be free from fears,
And you'd recall that gardens need the rain.