20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers

Love Lost and Stolen


Though I am not aware of any great love

 beaming down upon me, I hope they are there

My lost son, my mother , her parents,

They speak to me, hear me when no one else does.

I have searched, believed, dreamed, loved

and seen all of that stolen from me.

In misery, drowning in tears, I have lain,

thinking of you, longing for your touch.

Oh, Holy Spirit, one whom I should trust

I often wonder where you are, near, or far

Do you watch over me while I suffer?

Do you not interject yourself in earths troubles?

There was a time when the majesty of your works,

the beauty of the forest and flowers of spring,

carried me to a place of pure delight.

Now, all I do is wonder what I did to make you leave.

Nothing can bring back what was stolen from me.

I try to find comfort in the winds, the sea,

To find you again, but I cannot see beyond the clouds.

I reach up, longingly to find only emptiness.

All you must do is reach down as I reach up,

as you did once and suddenly withdrew.

I hear the winds power, the majestic clouds.

But i want you, and can never ever have you here again.


her tranquil waters

 photo tumblr_lqwrkgnuuP1qg39ewo1_500.gif

Because it’s tomorrow she’s promised
his assured oft homeless heart,
sienna brown eyes her truth a whisper
‘Don’t worry, we can work it out.’

It’s not just another chance she offers
a sense of judgement judgement free,
alabaster smooth skin her lips dark hair
her tranquil waters he lies within.

A musician’s ear perfect pitch her voice
coos the lullaby of forgiveness,
the song our mysterious universe sings
her tranquil waters he’ll die within.

for Scout
written April 2013



I struggle to live and breathe when I see,

The love that you have for the broken, sad me.

In spite of my pain, you touch me and say,

I love you, my mom,I’m here,It’s OK.

if only you had what you really need.

Your brother alive and the mom I should be.

Hold my hand, my sweet baby, so I won’t slip away.

There’s part of him in you,and both want me to stay.

1 Comment

Looking towards the edge of the road….

Looking towards the edge of the road

I see the small child crying

I want to go to him, comfort him

But there is something restraining me back

I can’t move ahead, not a single inch

I finally ignore the child crying

And move ahead to my predetermined destination.


Did you get it what I’m trying to tell? You would have if  you have experienced it…


A Simple Thing

A shower, that simple daily thing we do
turned into agony for me today.
When stepping out, something went west and threw
me when I headed east. The sun turned gray,

I felt the stab wound searing through, and froze.
Small movements silenced my whole repertoire
and all my poetry turned into prose.
To stand from sitting down elicits war

among my muscles. I’m the battleground.
Their white-hot swords and sabers slit along
my comfort lines, and comfort now has drowned.
No longer do I feel in charge or strong

because ice, pain pills, elevation make
up healing. With my doctor’s rules I will
comply. I’m thankful that it did not break,
but I know for awhile I must lie still.


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,787 other followers

%d bloggers like this: