ajwrites57

glass and bars i watched my daddy through prison glass he always looked the same except when his beard turned gray and when he lost his eye we never talked about it he wrote me letters all the time i have them in a box i don't read them much anymore be a good girl now he'd say it every time i always said i would the letters stopped one day and we got a call daddy suffered a fall a good girl is what i am i finished college too but he never knew how good he changed that day when he left this world no one knows how he fell i watch the daddies everyday through prison bars i remind them of the little ones daddies stay away from glass and bars that keep you from the little ones not all wind up good girls and boys © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Image:  Martin Fisch via Flickr Creative Commons

edge of reality reaching  for the apex of life,  gnarled hands grasp  at the edge of reality.  fingernails tear  at the ragged rim.  furrowed ruts marked by digits  of former seekers  are clear, some deep.  many realize  that life's summit  is reached  at great cost.  reached,  not by many  but sought by all.  at the edge  of reality  varied journeyers  loiter,  gazing upward.  the light of reality  peers  downward;  the pilgrims  shield their eyes,  fearfully. the apex of life remains at the edge of reality. © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Image By:  via http://commons.wikimedia.org/

old friends searched online for former friends surprised to see untimely ends friends, their spouses, moms and dads sad to see the deaths they had the inexorable tick and tock of time, leads us all to fields, sublime through twisting, turning hands of fate, soon we'll all be known as "late" years roll on, time is passed no one knows how long it lasts each life is counted out by days as friends we oft go separate ways friend's faces show the lines of age as each one turns his separate page fools fleeting time waits for no man eighty years our lives may span so count your days with special care for who knows how, who knows where our beating hearts will one day stop find old friends before they drop © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Image adapted:  By SDRandCo via morguefile.com

how he makes love "A woman doesn't care how he makes his living, only how he makes love," she said. She uttered these types of phrases all the time, like they were eternal truths or the final word on any topic. Maybe I should say, they were pronouncements . She was unstoppable. She lived each day to the fullest, like it mattered. She lived each day like it was her last. Squeezing every bit of it out, like juice from an orange, even the pulp, like she did in the kitchen every morning (that we had oranges). "The pulp improves antioxidant status and suppresses lipid peroxidation," she declared, (as if I understood or even cared). LoL. "That's not what most women say. They want men with a bank account, " I answered. She sighed. Turning to look me in the eye, she said, "A woman cares how he lives his love more than how he makes a living. How each day, each movement, each word is making love--making love--to her. The way he says...

Father Father full of love for son, shows him how life is won. Father shapes his lump of clay, shows him how to work and play. Father loves words and books, shows him his reading nook. Father spends time with son, shows him life from sun to sun. Father sleeps sound at night, shows him peace from living right. Father tells of wounds of heart, shows him how to heal each part. Father shares faith in God, shows him where saints have trod. Father shares when he's failed, shows him how victory's scaled. Father points to open road, shows him how the road is strode. Father opens wide the world. shows him how life's unfurled. Father loves the son's mother, shows her honor above all others. Father blesses his son, shows him how to bless each one. Father fades from all his days, shows him how to live his ways. © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Image:  By clarita

between between the lines of age, a bar from every cage, a line from every page, days of life, we swage. ★ ★ ★ between the hands of time, a ring from every chime, a line from every rhyme days of life, we sublime. ★ ★ ★ between the echoes of sound, a song from every ground, a line from every round, days of life, we redound. ★ ★ ★ between the rhythm of dance, a heart from every romance, a line from every chance, days of life, we enhance. ★ ★ ★ between the hands of fate, a choice between every gate, a line from every strait, days of life, we relate. © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ image:  By imelenchon If you enjoy this poem, you can find more of my writing  here.

the wound the wound, has pierced him full and deep, he feels it throbbing, in his sleep. the gaping lesion's liquid seeps as he moans but never weeps. a woeful tone escapes his lips, he feels the pulsing, painful drips. the weapon's handle that he grips, is held fast by his fingertips. the thrust she made, like a knife, cut his soul and took his life. the bleeding core, was not from strife, but from love's tokens that ran rife. he wore the wound with sinful pride, the cut was from his beaming bride. her love's the weapon buried in his side, he bears it proudly and love not denied. © 2014 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ image:  By Iamthebesttoday (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

What makes a man? What makes a man? Is it random stuff or does it take a plan? Da Vinci's Man What makes a man? Is it toads and boys? Is it trees and toys? Is it impish ways and foolish ploys? What makes a man? Is it sweat and bone? Is it grit and stone? Is it being able to stand alone? What makes a man? Is it heart and hands? Is it testosterone and glands? Is it being able to tame wild lands? What makes a man? Is it strength and power? Is it metal and bower? Is it being able to take a tower? What makes a man? Is it love and heart? Is it wit and smarts? Is it taking up a weak one's part? Michelangelo's Man What makes a man? Is it random stuff or is there a master plan? © 2013 ajwrites57 A Long ❤ ❤ ❤ Image From : Leonardo da Vinci [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons Image From:  Michelangelo Buonarroti [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons