| Ok Here are My Words. If you dont like them tough. If you do, cool. Everyone has their own opinion, so it won't bother me if you dont. |
| Im wishing for the arms Im wishing for the arms of someone I care for much I need them wrapped around me as to feel his gentile touch His embrace will keep me safe Long throughout the night I rest my head upon his shoulder as he holds me extra tight His fingers entangled in my hair my hand upon his neck He holds me oh so tightly as my cheek recieves a peck. Margaret R. Virkus Copyright ©2002 Margaret Virkus |
| Rose Petals I found a little petal Its skin so soft and sweet Its very scent touched my heart And made it skip a beat I felt that petal soft and smooth And fragile yes indead And when its dried and withered 'Twill be brittle under feet Margaret Virkus Copyright ©2002 Margaret Virkus |
| Catepiller Upon a blade of grass There was a little bug Crawling up and down And down and up At least thats what I thought When the bug fell Off that blade, I Picked it with a pluck The blade was full of ridges To my surprise I saw. Margaret Virkus Copyright ©2002 Margaret Virkus |
| Little Things For my babies. A child's laugh Is many things A bubbling brook The rustling leaves A childs cry Will cause you pain Each time a piece Of your heart breaks But these are all Life's little things To cause the up's And downs to spring Margaret R. Virkus Copyright ©2002 Margaret Virkus |
| Ok This is the last one. If I must Bide Wondering and wandering yet biding my time Waiting for someone who will only be mine. Not just mine only, I know I must share, but yet Mine alone, for his heart I cant share. Am I wasting my breath by biding my time. Good things come for those who do wait.. Or so I've been told by my mum and dad, though all this waiting makes thine heart become sad. Margaret Rose Virkus Copyright ©2002 Margaret Rose Virkus |
| Upon a Piece of paper Upon a piece of paper I wrote a wishful thought 'Twas about a thing i told a friend Without giving proper thought I almost wish to take it back Buti know know now it's too late He knows now what I was hiding For his reaction I shall wait Is a week a proper waiting time to give this matter thought I do not know as of yet whether 'tis or not I am up rather late this morn 'Cause this thing I told my friend I know not wether he feels the same Or rather i was ne'er born I have no desire for either or 'tis nae my choice, 'tis his Wether we stay friends or nay or ne'er speak again I ken nay which Would hurt me more to have him say naught or loose my friend for ever more I care for him deeply, a wee bit too much I dinna give a thought that it would grow as such. Copyright ©2002 Margaret Virkus |
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