Rose & Thorn Poetry

Emotions can sometimes be difficult to navigate. Sometimes when you've already got a lot going on, it makes you more sensitive to even the littlest of things. I wrote about some of the things that make me tempted to snap. These may be some reasons you struggle with being unkind (def. mine), but remember they may also be why someone is unkind to you Trying to be Kind It is hard to be kind when you’re tired… Or when you’re hungry Or lonely Or when you’re scared. It’s hard when you’re frustrated… Or when you’ve had a bad day Or a bad week Or when you’re overwhelmed. It’s hard when you’re stressed… Or when you’re rushed Or forgotten Or when you’re disappointed. It’s hard to be kind when you’re disrespected… Or when you’re expected to be someone’s rescuer Or lifeline Or when you listen to everyone’s problems. It’s hard when you’re depressed… Or when you’re anxious Or feeling ill Or when you’ve had enough of people. It’s hard when you’re overlooked… Or when y...

In love I fell with his wond'rous soul His noble creed, and kindness rooted deep. Not brawn nor build but quest of purest goals, Not skill but virtue brought my heart to leap. A humble soul which seeks not selfish gain, He serves not fame nor gold, but honesty. In solemn eyes he bears another's pain, His thankful heart imbued with gen'rosity. Intrigued by cute details, yet deeply wise, A gentle,simple soul of stunning art, With dreams of hope, with joy that lights his eyes, With thoughtful motives sparked in loyal heart, With him I have fallen in love, but oh, That I had not; it's grief to let him go.

I am the butterfly struggling in the rain,  The morning touch of sun that cuts through the haze,   The colors arrayed in the dark night sky, When the lights go dim and the milky vein, Entrances the eyes. I am the lullaby found in rough terrain, The vague shadow that eludes one's searching gaze, The comforting warmth in freezing plight, A welcomed drink, like tea or champagne, Which comforts at night. I am the loyal thrum felt throbbing through veins, The reminder during struggles and harsh days, Encouragement to endure the fight. I am the smile that dilutes pain, It will be alright. I am the unperceived translucent membrane, The quick flutter of eth'real gossamer daze, The sheer shimmer of dragonfly wings. A feigned reflection in dew drops plain, Reified as kings. This is who I am This is my name

Down deep inside the depth of soul, A shielded flame, it keeps me whole. So strong it keeps me sane and warm, This guiding light of holy storm. Unmindful eyes forget this flame, But during darkest nights exclaim, What splendid beauty brightly burns, Away the fear so joy returns. Oh light of peace well woven deep, My anxious heart in sunny warmth to steep. In chaos whispers flame of might, Such hope to chase away the night, To bring me courage, strength and faith, To fight despair and haunting wraiths. Dismay and anguished life that strains,  Through troubling times yet peace remains. Unseen yet always felt; How droll, Such light could warm a worried soul. Through tears and pain, though grief assail, My prudent guide yet welds my heart so frail. This light which holds coherence tight, Ignites the mind with peace delight. Secured by faithful tiny thread, Endure the days so filled with dread. The rain will never cause its death, Neither the wind shall ...

For death and darkness reigned on earth below, When Love did look upon the souls in thrall, Though not a go-between for them did show. Amidst dismay, when mortals felt such pall, In sin and sorrow, held by chains that maul, A holy child of promised birth thus came, A righteous shepherd sent for sheep who fall. "Such peace and love from God," the saints proclaim, For humble children have received His name. Rebirth! The night deceased, the day secured, The old renewed, no longer Death shall reign! By gift of God's own Spirit, life's assured. From death the Son did rise, thus all is well. Oh weary soul, rejoice in Immanuel!

I wrote this poem while I was waiting for my car to be fixed. I always carry a notepad for occasions like this. Boredom leads to creative things, in this case a poem. The Tree The tree so tall and stately, One forgets it waited so patiently. From its tiny days when it was born, When it grew out of tiny acorn, It waited while it grew to form. On rainy days or sunny warm, It persisted through it all. And then one day, it was so tall.