Whenever we gather together,
The words are not easy to find,
But love speaks a common language
When people have ties that bind.
We don't always say what we're feeling
As often as families should;
We don't count our blessings out loud,
But somehow they're understood.
We know that we're thankful for living
With the comfort of each other's care;
We're grateful for memories and stories,
And the jokes that our family shares.
We might leave a promise unspoken,
But we know that we're loyal and true;
We can count on companions through life,
In the sunshine and shadows, too.
We might show some special attention
To a stranger, acquaintance, or guest,
But we never forget in our hearts
About those that we really love best.
These blessings can never be counted
Like money or gold dividends;
They can only be shared as the love
That exists when families are friends.
wanna read more??just click.. byOPIKABU: August 2009
Breeze flows by
Whispering words into my ear
Numbness grips my soul
and the Scarry heart skips a beat
The Sun setting down the prairies
Signals the end
When will you come back to me
I am shattered and broken
The Flowers have died
my tears have dried
These wounds will never heal
unless you touch me
Even in a stone
Lies a heart Soft enough to pardon
Believe me my love,
I am shattered and Broken
If someone hurts you, betrays you, or breaks your heart,
forgive them for they have helped you learn about trust and the importance of being cautious to who you open you heart to.
“A broken heart is what makes life so wonderful five years later, when you see that special guy in an elevator and he is fat and smoking and saying 'Long time no see'”
“When love is lost, do not bow your head in sadness; instead keep your head up high and gaze at the stars for that is where your broken heart has been sent to heal!”
wanna read more??just click.. byOPIKABU: August 2009
You left me wondering around
No longer do I feel safe and sound
Stumbling on your favorite blue shirt
Cant keep in all of this hurt
I loved you so damn much
That now I cry for your touch
That no longer comes my way
No matter how much I beg and pray
Into my bed I crawl alone
Just to smell your colonge
It was a week ago since you said goodbye
But your smell still lingers by
It fills my body with such distress
Turning me into a total mess
You didnt think of what you would do to me
All you wanted was to be free
So me being stupid I opened the door
I let you through and cried even more
I closed it shut and heard you leave
Footstep heading away from me
You say that we werent meant to be
How do you dare say that to me
I hold my broken heart in my hand
Trying to keep it together the best I can
But no matter how much glue I use
I still cry and feel abused
For in this prison called my room
I keep memories of me and you
They haunt me every second of the day
I just wish this pain would go away
I gathered all your things today
Put them in a box and hid them away
But I kept something to make me smile
I found it and took it from the pile
A picture of you holding me
A memory of what we used to be
wanna read more??just click.. byOPIKABU: August 2009
Love comes hungry to anyone’s hand.
I found the newborn sparrow next to
the tumbled nest on the grass. Bravely
opening its beak. Cats circled, squirrels.
I tried to set the nest right but the wild
birds had fled. The knot of pin feathers
sat in my hand and spoke. Just because
I’ve raised it by touch, doesn’t mean it
follows. All day it pecks at the tin image of
a faceless bird. It refuses to fly,
though I’ve opened the door. What
sends us to each other? she and I
had a blue landscape, a village street,
some poems, bread on a plate. Love
was a camera in a doorway, love was
a script, a tin bird. Love was faceless,
even when we’d memorized each other’s
lines. Love was hungry, love was faceless,
the sparrow sings, famished, in my hand.
wanna read more??just click.. byOPIKABU: August 2009
Some of what we do, we do
to make things happen,
the alarm to wake us up, the coffee to perc,
the car to start.
The rest of what we do, we do
trying to keep something from doing something,
the skin from aging, the hoe from rusting,
the truth from getting out.
With yes and no like the poles of a battery
powering our passage through the days,
we move, as we call it, forward,
wanting to be wanted,
wanting not to lose the rain forest,
wanting the water to boil,
wanting not to have cancer,
wanting to be home by dark,
wanting not to run out of gas,
as each of us wants the other
watching at the end,
as both want not to leave the other alone,
as wanting to love beyond this meat and bone,
we gaze across breakfast and pretend.
wanna read more??just click.. byOPIKABU: August 2009
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