Unattainable

Is love unattainable? Does it even Exist?

Is it out there for me to grasp?

Is it something I can get at last?

The warmth of touch, does it fade?

Where does the heart go, if love is not found?

Will it die and rest unsound?

Will it know what it might miss?

Will it long for the forgotten kiss?

Curls

I love the way they jump and bounce
They almost seem to flounce
While one is tight and bound
The other is loppy round!
And though none are the same
(They all stick out in crazy flame)
All together they seem so full!
And each one you want to pull,
With some long and some short
There is not style they can't support!
Straight could never be...
Because curly is for me!

The Girls

Once there was a little girl with hair as black as coal. She loved to brush and stroke it as though it were gold.

One night a jealous sister stole into her room and cut off all her raven locks. Then swept up the strands with a willow broom.

Now when the little girl awoke and noticed that her hair was chopped all short and cropped, her eyes bulged and bulged and looked as if they'd pop!

Mother came hurrying down the stairs so fast, wondering what the ruckas was and didn't want it to last. As she noticed her little girl with her hair all gone and sad, she also heard a gigle escape from under the bed.

Trying to show remorse, the jealous sister emerged from underneath the bed. With a stern look Mother handed her little girl that same scissors to fix the others head.

Now the little girl is no longer very vain, and the jealous sister doesn't envy her mane. Both sisters now know that though they differ... it doesn't matter and that they love each other just the same!

No Offense But...

Lunch room courtesies should really be maintained at all times!

Have you ever expierenced the "failed lunch"; I am positive any of you out there who work in an office setting has. You gather your lunch and head to the lunch, looking forward to some private time, perhaps you are going to read a book or a magazine, do some homework (for those who are still in school) or in my case to write. In fact I was so eagerly awaiting my lunch time to give me the time to write something new for my blog, I carefully slected a smaller table that is really only enough room for one person.

So I brought in my journal and pen I have my lunch, and spread all my stuff out preparing for a good meal (I had french onion soup my favorite) and hoping for a little inspiration and just as I am putting my pen to paper a co-worker asks if they could join me ... and they promise to be quite. I look up and take a glance at the room, I mean there are several open spots WHY OH WHY does she have to sit with me?? Of course I graciously assent to the invasion and stick my nose back into my journal.

The first few minutes are fine I write and eat and she eats accross from me. THEN to the horrors of all horrors she starts talking and talking... now I know this is rude but at this point in time I don't care and I unsuccessfully try to ignore the talking. I mean it is a little bit obvious that I am currently in the middle of something! Of course ignoring someone is very hard so I pointedly look up give a non-commital: "hmmm" and look back down and start to write again... this did not work. Frustrated and annoyed that my planned lunch has been thwarted, I pack up my lunch and head back to my desks 10 minutes early utterly defated.

So I am pleading to everyone... unless you come into the room and you are being looked at directly into your eyes and thier is a smile on my face... do not interupt me!

Of course the whole episode was not a waste ... I apparently got some inspiration after all.

Storms

Ten thousand tine storms pass by

Each one carries it's own pain.

Slowly, steadily, thrundering down

Covering all in sight with rain.

A million drops fall to the ground,

Each is a tear with no name

Soaking in so deep, so far

Everything's wet with shame.

How long will this system last

A day, a week, a year?

With every waking moment

The clouds are to be feared.

And even when the sun does shine

And from the storm, springs new life

Always and forever

Remembered is the strife.

Mothers and Daughters

Mother

Who's hand will trace
The curves, the lines
The softness of my face
With their imaginary embrace?

With the passage of time
Who will close their eyes,
And see within the depth of mine
With their twinkle and shine?

Who's eyes will tear
With sudden loss
With sudden fear
That I am no longer near?


Daughter

With tireless embrace
Eyes closed
My hands trace
Every memory of your face.

I remember how your eyes had shine
When I look in the mirror
Because everytime,
I can see them reflected in mine.

Now and then I really fear
With a pang of loss,
That makes me tear
Knowing that you are no longer near.

Short And Sweet

Falling

One Kiss, is all it takes

The realitzation of my fate.

A tingling leap

A swift embrace

A lasting kiss;

My soul escapes.

With the swelling beat

That love makes.

Mimic

Silver Clouds dance accross the lake

With lasting glides, they seem to take

The rippling dance the water makes.

Reflections of the sky and sea,

One in all they seem to be.

Forget

Forget me not

Forget me never

These words of mine

Should last forever.

The Looking Glass

In the looking glass, there is no face
Just a bare and empty space.
No shiny hair that obscures the view,
No large round eyes of blue.


Once there was a nose
As red as a rose
And lips that smirked;
Some of the features man quirks.


But slowly they began to fade
And soon no feature could be made.
For once a beauty could be seen,
Now it all seems a dream

Mystery

Mystery, Mystery, Mystery....

Can 3 words be a poem? I certainly think so! I am sure there are many people out there who would debat this statment, but frankly it doesn't matter. To me poetry is string of words... or word that when read a picture or a story can be formed in ones mind.

When I think of Mystery, Mystery, Mystery ...

I see a s slueth in an old school khaki tranch, he is holding a flashlight and a magnifying glass. He creeps stealthly down a winding alleyway in search of the truth! Oh and did I mention that my slueth is also a mouse and he is looking for a lost bit of cheese... swiss to be precise!

Poetry can be anything that lets your imagination run wild! What does Mystery say to you?

Blogging Day 1

Welcome to my blog!!!

I have always wondered why anyone would want to spend their free time reading other peoples opnions and stories instead of creating their own... then I took a communications course at NAIT and was introduced to many different networking mediums and fell in love!

I mean what a great way to share your knowledge, thoughts and stories! I hope you enjoy some of MY stories and random thoughts... and I certainly hope you don't leave my site thinking I belong in a mental institution!!

I love to write poetry so there will be a lot of little poems posted and seeing as I have an over-active imagination short stories will posted as well!