Me: things I like and don’t

I hate my pride,
And the way I’m never satisfied.
I love my drive to work and make,
Even if it’s just for motion’s sake.
I hate my reluctance to make a stand,
Even when the embers of my anger are fanned.
I respect my lack of complaints,
Though it doesn’t put me with the saints.
There are many sides to me,
Some I love, others a don’t want to see.
I have good traits and bad,
Some are happy, some are sad.
I try to maintain self respect,
Though I know I’ll never be perfect.

~IV

Love Letter To My Darling

Oh my darling, I love you so.
You are my everything and cure my woe.

I feel strong when you stand beside me.
And your wisdom helps me clearly see.

My love for you blooms like a flower.
It grips me with ever growing power.

I cannot escape it. I am your slave.
Though others may think I rant and rave,

For the first time ever my path is clear.
My purpose is to hold and protect you my dear.

To the world you will be my wife.
But to me, you are my life.

~IV

Seasons

First comes Spring,
When birds start to sing.
The flowers bloom,
And the master’s loom,
Weaves the beautiful landscape.

Hearts are merry,
When grow the honeysuckle and wild berry.
All is new,
Like morning dew.
The year is young.

Second comes Summertime,
It’s truly sublime.
The sun is bright,
As it shines light,
Over a happy world.

The children play.
They are the Potter’s clay.
The world grows,
In glorious shows,
Of the Artist’s skill.

Next come Fall,
When turn the trees so tall.
When all is no longer new,
The Painter uses a different hue,
To change the land to red and orange.

Harvest is here,
And the sky is clear.
Friends and family gather for fun and games,
And in the fields the farmer claims,
The gifts the Maker bestows.

Finally is winter,
When our thoughts we center,
On our creation,
And our relation,
To our God, Friends and family.

The land is cold and bare.
Only the bravest dare,
To face the wind so chill,
And laugh and play until,
It’s time to go in and rest.

Now as the year rolls to an end,
On this one thing we may depend,
That after the seasons pass and the long months wain,
It will be Spring again,
And the year will start anew.

~IV