Words are threads of many colors.
That can be woven into something
Beautiful and strong.
I said that to Melan of Innocence once
And it’s true.
She is a weaver of gossamer truth.
Warp dipped in LOVE and then woven
Through heartwarming weft
To form fabric both beautiful and
Astoundingly strong.
ljm

From the depths of despair
Where God is unknown
And only danger surrounds me
I feebly fight against the call
That draws me ever on to destruction.
Only the call of a Whippoorwill can save me.
ljm

I wrote that my
Eight year old
Is no longer screaming,
That a loving hand
Watered the budded rose
Deep within him
And therefore me,
And thereby changed
EVERYTHING,

Now life is like walking
Across an ancient battlefield,
I know for sure
That armed struggle
And violence took place
Right where I walk,
But now the breeze
Carries only the sound
Of bird's songs

My feet swish through
Meadow grass,
No longer mud
From Flanders fields,
I like,
No in fact I love
Walking here now,
Will you perhaps
Come walk here too?

I want to be your playmate
Dancing on the bubbles of our joy.
I want to be your everything
Providing all you need and more.

        I want to be your hiding place
        When storms of life surround you.
        I want to be the face you see
        When you wake up forever.

                 I want to be a steady beam
                 To light the ways we travel.
                 I want to be part of your life
                 As long as God will let me
                              ljm

I don’t hear the thunder yet
But I see the black clouds forming
I don’t have a lightning rod
And I’m standing in a puddle.
                                           ljm