Make your own free website on

This is my second book of Poems, of my conversations in Prayer like fashion to the Lord our Savior, done in Poetry about the trials I have gone through in life. From rapes, to losing my son at 10 years old to my ex husband who was workaholic and I became ill. To my troubles in my second marriage. To a man my Junior, against all kinds of odds we have weather the storm by taking Everything to Christ in Prayers. I have Prayers thanking God for horses, Dogs, and Cats, allowed to cross my Paths, and all the people in my life.


Here is some samples of my poems:


What is insanity really?






Is it someone who just doesn’t remember?



Is it someone who talks to God al the time?



Is it someone who talks about God all the time?



Is it someone who has given up on humans,



So only desires to read the bible and speak



The word and not another word?



Who gets to label us insane?



The world? With it twisted, human race!



       The World which we have to lie and cheat



And deceive, and keep up with the Jones,



To succeed? They get to label Insanity!



The World Killed Jesus, the most sane!



The World Killed Jesus the most gentle!



The World Killed Jesus, God, Love!



Now that is insanity!



But, it was for you and mine sins, but



Still the World gets to label insanity!



The World, lies, cheats, covets, gossips,



Backbites, and that my friends is, sanity!



The world can keep their sanity, I want Jesus. Insanity!



The World can keep their labels, I want Jesus. Labels.



I want to be peculiar, different, weird, a Jesus freaky!






Dancing Soccer Ball






 My Son and his soccer Ball

How big you gotten, I see you as my son. I also see you as my two years old baby, Cute as a button, innocent, soft baby skin,









Toes so cute and suck able are now. Big, grown



And doing tricks with a soccer ball, fancy like



Dancing a ball on your toes, I once nibbled on.



Graceful and yet so skillful, but yet so fast, how



Do you have time to even think about dancing With the ball,



yet so beautiful it seems.



 Hackey sacs just doesn't seem to reflect the dance.



Up, and Up, over, twist, back down yet not all the way,



Now over and Up and threw and twist back and around,



So beautiful, so complicated but he makes it



Seem like a breeze. How has he grown My Son



The boy who is now a Man Who dances with a soccer



 ball with such grace



And finesse that all stop in awe just to watch him



As he bounces this ball as he walks down the street.



Bouncy, bouncy on his head, toe, knee, head, wherever.



Just not on the pavement, anywhere but the pavement



And not to touch it with his hands. He started walking



At 9 months old and dribbling at 9 months old



Sixteen he is now and dribbling, bouncing and dancing!



Such a long way he has come, my son, grown up!  






















Page Views: #