midnight

Why is it that when the clock strikes midnight I feel the most alone?  Maybe it is because that midnight is when the fairytale ends.  Maybe it is the 12 long strokes of the clock that tick in my mind one by one reminding me of the pain.  One tear falls each tick, one sob escapes for each tock.
There is no glass slipper for me to return, there is only a piece of my heart missing.  I ask that you protect it so that one night when the clock does strike midnight you can fit it into the proper place and blow the storm of my eyes out of sight and instead of a tear and a sob, bring a hug and a kiss.
Midnight brings the pain as I lie awake every night since you have been gone praying for the welcoming sun so I may see your smile in the day, hear your laughter in the wind and feel your warmth.  And each day as the sun slowly sets my hopes of you returning to fix my broken heart fade only to be replaced with the torture of 12 midnight strokes reminding me of the pain.
I pledge to you my princess that I will keep fighting the horror of midnight and follow my trail of tears back to you and forever be your prince charming that we may live happily ever after.
Love will replace fear, hurt be overrun by healing.  Midnight replaced by 12 beats of our hearts entwined.

the rose

My thoughts turn to thee as the bud of a rose searches for every ray of sun that it may bloom into full beauty.
One petal opens as I think of the moment that I first saw you, I was trying not to stare.
Another petal opens as my hand intertwines with yours; wrapping together the feelings of each moment one by one that I get to spend with you.
As the sun continues to rise and reaches the rose each petal blossoms into full growth so that one may pass it on to the one he cares so deeply for that only a rose can stand as the symbol of his heart.

sitting here all alone

Sitting here all alone I see what the world is supposed to be a world where you are here with me and we laugh and cry as the days go by, giving of trust to find the love that was foretold of, that we dreamt of as the music of a child's heart played in the dark of night
Sitting here all alone a single tear drop falls off my cheek, saturating the barren ground to form a mirage of your face that gives me the hope to face one more day
Sitting here all alone I see others who have found the elusive beast of love and embraced it full heart
Sitting here all alone I hear your laughter, it rings through my heart reminding me that you are who you say you are
Sitting here all alone the stars shine brighter in a different majestic form, for they are far dimmer than when you are next to me, but put forth more the effort to create a gateway that allows me to gaze on you, and you on me as we sit alone looking up at the same night sky
Sitting here all alone I now know what you mean to me, and it breaks my heart that it took me sitting here all alone to see that you are what love is to me

my best friend's hands

I want to tell you about my best friend
He is a man that stands as tall as the mountains-immovable in his faith
His testimony whispers as the roar of a lion to the hearts of man
One look into his eyes and you see a world of wonder and curiosity
Orbiting around the focus of love towards his fellow men
His feet have walked many miles tracking down dreams and visions
His laughter shines down in a summer suns ray, whistling across a lake, swimming with God's creations
His character resembles that so closely to the Saviour, Jesus Christ,
That one can only tell them apart by the prints on their hands
Christ's hands bear the print of the nail, stained with redeeming drops of blood
Sent to do the Father's will and obeyed faithfully
My best friend, his hands hold the memories of souls uplifted,
His hands have crafted sculptures of diligence and faith
My best friends hands have left an imprint where it matters most
His hands are Christ's hands

you are making a difference

You may see an ordinary being when you look in the mirror
You may feel that you are of no worth
Or that one voice cannot raise a sacred strain
Often times you do not realize that God is using you
For his special purpose
It is time to take a step back and search the past to see that
You are making a difference

Clouded by societies judgement it is hard
To tune into the source that is saying such absurd things
For how could one of your stature make a difference?
You are a mere person with no educational power,
No outstanding wisdom, or pompous gain
In disbelief you continue to wonder, how in the world,
You are making a difference?

As you tremble down the street with no pace entrancing your walk,
You happen upon a lone being beckoning you to sit and watch
As the world slowly ticks by

In a rush your heart yearns for this lone being as you hear a story of grief and pain
And surprisingly you hear your voice start to raise a sacred strain;
One that you thought was aloof to your words
For hours you listen, for minutes you talk
And with a final soft tick the world of that day has gone by

This lone stranger stands to bid you adieu
Generously thanking you for allowing God to use you
In such a special way
As you embrace this mans hand you feel the print of the nail and understand just how
You have made a difference

Tears in your eyes you meet his beautiful gaze and manage to mouth the words
"Thank you"
As he turns to walk away the windows of heaven open as a scroll and you hear God whisper,
"My child, you are making a difference."

heads or tails

Change comes from an authoritative arrangement
With the flip of a coin life's balance hangs spinning in the air
Deciding my life's fate
Either heads or tails, change is imminent

Heads will lead down one path; tails another
Heads will open a door to a new found land
Reaping with abundant blessings
Tails will close a door but open a window
That will allow me to see as far as the horizon

Abundance will come with work
The horizon will extend with faith
Both sides of the coin will change my life
Either path will make me stretch beyond my strength
Each arrangement will be full of fear,
Compromised by the sweetest change
I cannot follow both sides of the coin
I can follow God's will whether heads or tails

fishing pole

There is an item that often gets passed down from generation to generation
Father to son
Many may view it as obsolete, but to the certain one
This item may be the very key
To finding their inner self and what joy
A fishing pole can bring

Many hours are spent, casting and retrieving
To master the fine art of fishing
But more importantly it is the memories
That are caught with the lure of life

You may quickly forget the fish you catch
Never will one forget the tug on rod, the bounteous sky
Or the deep conversations with their fishing buddy

A fishing pole is much more than a stick with line; it is the path that leads to lakes and streams and allows
One to get lost in wonderment
It is an essence that drives a man to look past the horizon and
Fish deep for what may lie beneath and awaken a new generation to the thrill
A fishing pole can bring