Who are you that sits on a self made throne,
That’s padded with a pillow of pride,
Wearing a robe of perfection?
Your know-it-all attitude
And hastily pointing fingers,
Fill the air with dread,
As you speak words
That tear down
Searching for that happy medium
Where time and creativity meet
To reside on peaceful plain.
Interruptions not allowed.
Rabbit trails off limits.
A place where thoughts
God gave me an chance to pray for you
Today. A stranger whom I now know as
Lori. Twas a chance meeting.
God put me there in front of
You sitting in the cold,
Eyes filled with tears,
God Bless You Lori. “He is the “God Who Sees You” and He will help you.
Smiles are shared
With strangers on the street
Stores are filled with
Shoppers looking for once a year treats
To share with others generously
There’s just something about Christmas
I am a helper,
I love to help,
But why doesn’t everyone?
Why are some selfish,
Unwilling to give a helping hand?
I just don’t understand it at all!
They are missing out on so very much.
And all sizes
They hold things inside
Secrets, treasures, dreams
Or maybe unwanted things like
Handle all boxes with care because
They can be damaged inside and out
To no avail
I thought and pondered
And racked my brain
Even searched and researched
Yet nothing came to mind
Inspiration hid from my brain
Ideas could not be found anywhere
So I sit here with blank mind and blank paper