Welcome to My Page of Poetry

"The Perfect Man" I trust in you with all my heart. I knew I would from the start. I give you my heart, I give you my soul. You are the one who deserves this role. Is it possible to love so much, When I haven't felt your touch? Is it possible to love when we've never met? I say, "certainly; without a doubt; you bet!" We love each other with a love so pure. I know we'll last; we will long endure. When I read the words you write It makes me smile oh so bright. Even though we are miles apart, Your sweet love has touched my heart. I've known in my heart that there would be A man who'd be forever true to me. I now know that I have found him. It was by fate and a chance so slim. Someday the distance between us will close. And then we'll be in Heaven, this I know. I can't believe how lucky I am, To have found the perfect man.

"Booger in my Nose" There’s a booger in my nose. It looks as though it struck a pose. Every time I look at it, It seems to have grown a bit. Of all my troubles and my woes, There’s a booger in my nose. Oh, do I, do I dare, Stick my finger way up there? If I did and with my luck It probably would get stuck. Oh, what the heck. I’ll have it out in just a sec. Wow, that really is a big booger. I’ll just hide it in the sugar.

"Oklahoma City Bombing" In nineteen hundred and ninety-five, People are dead who were once alive. No one knew the damage it would cause. His scheme had very little flaws. The building exploded with a boom. And for some it was their doom. Bricks went flying and glass shattered. Now, nothing but this mattered. Somebody had dialed 9-1-1. The caller yelled, “It’s a bomb, not a gun!” Help came from police and fire crews. Soon, reporters came to do the news. Somewhere the guilty man lay concealed. And police wanted him revealed. A suspect was found: Timothy McVeigh. At the trial, he would have his say. "Order in the courtroom!” The judge’s voice boomed. The trial would go on a long time To see if McVeigh was guilty of this awful crime. Three years later McVeigh is still in jail. In remembrance of those dead, people ring bells. Randy Travis sings “Amazing Grace.” People are silent as tears run down their face.

"I Am Hungry" The pangs in my stomach are heard near and far. Sounding like the back-fire of an old, beat up car. It snarls and growls like an infuriated bear, Demanding for food and other good fare. It's waited all morning and even till noon. Hoping that vittles will fill it full soon. In its antcipation, I feel it twist and turn. Like butter mixing in an old-fashioned churn. The enticing aroma makes it scream to be fed. Any more of this and I'll soon be dead. With weakened strength, I lift the fork to my mouth. Chewed up and swallowed, the food journeys south. Down my throat to my awaiting tummy. And my! It is just oh so yummy. More, more! it signals my brain. I take bite after bite, like an endless train. Happy and full - filled to the top. Now I feel like I'm about to pop. But I am not hungry, not anymore. Not like I was, ten minutes before.

"The Wolf and Child" In a forest full of trees, a wolf snuck along his hands and knees. He tracked a child cloaked in red. "Don't talk to strangers," her mother had said. Hidden amongst the grasses green, he slipped along, keeping unseen. She walked along the tree-lined hill. Mr. Wolf saw his next meal. To make her his, the plan was this: To be friends with her, that's the gist. He slowly crawled out from the grass. With frightened eyes, she was aghast. "Do not be frightened," he said with a smile. Though she wasn't, she still thought him vile. She told him she was going to see her Grandma Sue. He thought now instead of one, I can eat two. They knocked on the door and from within her grandmother bid them to come in. But to his surprise there was a man carring an ax in both his hands. Swinging his ax when the wolf came near, cutting off his tail right at the rear. Into the woods the wolf quickly ran. "We'll never see him again," said the man.

"Love" Love is not just a box of chocolates and a card, It's homemade cookies and a poem written from the heart. Love is the feeling of being in his arms and knowing everything will be okay. It's not only looking into his eyes, but looking deep into his soul. Love is being miles apart, and knowing you are the only one in his eyes are heart. There is not always a need for constant talk. Just knowing he's there is just as fulfilling. Love is not affection for a person, it is compassion for your best friend.

"What is Blue?" Blue is the color I see in your eyes. And when you look into the sky, Blue is never-ending. After it rains clear blue drops, The air smells fresh and clean. Blue is the color of the ocean, and the very depths of the sea. When combined with red and white, we stand tall with patriotism each year on the fourth of July. When a person feels sad, we say they are blue. Blue can be a flower, its sweet smell wafting about. Blue is the color of denim - my favorite thing to wear. In the springtime listen close to the bluebird's joyful voice. Blue is a berry, ripe on the vine.