Why oh why do you hit her?
Why oh why do you inflict pain searing and deep
To her body,
Her heart,
Her mind and soul?
A presence dark has touched her life.
Causing love and tenderness to take cover and run,
When something wicked this way come.

Why oh why do you hit her,
When in you she does trust?
She gave you her heart
And her soul to keep.
To lock a way and protect,
But now you make her weep,
And her tortured soul to bleed.
A presence dark has come to roost,
Rolling slowly across the land.
Smothering the light and warmth of the sun,
When something wicked this way come.

Why oh why don't you stop and think
About the lasting scars
Her heart and body do keep?
As your fists and booted feet find their mark
Her skin bleeds and bones do part.
Her heart slowly dies and her tears
Fall like rain upon a Forrest deep.
Then do you realize?
You are the one, who makes her bleed,
You are the one, who makes her cry
You are the one, who makes her fear
You are the one, who makes her run,
You are the something wicked this way come.
Why oh why do you hit her?
What lessons do you teach the
Little ones who watch,
Cowering in a corner dark,
Or bed covers deep.
As you throw her to and fro
Young minds are imprinted with images
That will last until the next generation.
How long until little boy blue mimics his seed?
Duplicating and carrying on with this despicable deed?

A presence dark has touched their lives.
A presence cruel, without heart,
Without honor, respect, tenderness, or love.
Spreading poison, causing those of blood to run.
When something wicked this way will come.

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Secret Garden

Landscape so warm, flowers so sweet.
Her Secret Garden awaits.
At the gates to her Garden he did stand,
Hoping to gain entrance to this forbidden land.
He longed to taste her sweet flowering petals,
Longed to savor the nectar they offered.

Landscape so warm, flowers so sweet.
Her Secret Garden awaits.
With gentle patience and love sincere,
Does he crack the gates and peer within.
Aroma issues fourth like that not ever smelt,
And fills his nostrils, so sweet he wept.

Landscape so warm, flowers so sweet.
Her Secret Garden awaits.
Through the gates a crack,
Does he taste her tender petals,
Soft and warm, saccharine and lovely,
The gates open wider, revealing the heart of her,
Further does he venture, pleasure spreading within.

Landscape so warm, flowers so sweet.
Her Secret Garden awaits.
Slowly does he enter her Garden proper,
Pausing at the gates,
To softly caress the smooth knob that guards them,
Moist and malleable, shiny and receptive,
The knob revels all her Secret Garden has to offer.

Landscape so warm, flowers so sweet.
Her Secret Garden awaits.
Further still does he enter her Secret Garden,
Pleasure like none felt before transports him.
Sensations so pure suffuse him,
Heaven and all it glory await him,
Inside the warm, moist walls of her Secret Garden.
Landscape so warm, flowers so sweet.
Her Secret Garden awaits.
Deeper still does he move into her Secret Garden,
His eyes close, all movement stops as
Her Garden walls seem to close around him,
Then move outward again, and repeat the phase.
Movement begins anew and with each bold step,
Pleasure heightens and heaven draws nearer.

Landscape so warm, flowers so sweet.
Her Secret Garden awaits.
Faster does he move inside her Secret Garden walls,
As rhythm, replaces deliberation, and his mind loses all control.
Self-restraint gives way and his essence is released,
Deep within her Secret Garden, and his soul is at peace.

Landscape so warm, flowers so sweet.
Her Secret Garden awaits.
And so he turns and leaves Her Secret Garden.
Remembrances of pleasure found, softness felt,
And sweet emancipation sustain him,
Until next he occasions her Secret Garden's
Rich captivating treasures.

His skin is the color of maple in winter,
Mahogany in the summers heat.
Yet, it is soft to the touch, supple,
And just a little sweet.
His body is well muscled, but soft in places.
He is the chocolate man.

His smile is bright and cheery,
Full of warmth and good humor.
His lips are full, yet tender,
Made for kissing, not passing beer.
He is the chocolate man.

His eyes are deep rich brown,
Though one can only tell in the brightness of light.
They are the windows to his soul
Full of passion and emotion that yearns to shines bright.
He is the chocolate man.

His hands are medium in size,
Made rouge by heavy lifting, with calluses to show.
Yet, they are capable of the gentlest of touches,
The softest of caresses, the lightest of finger falls.
He is the chocolate man.

His heart is guarded, it's door left only ajar.
The pain he has felt from failures past, have left the surface scared.
But despite all that has come before,
His heart is gentle, full of love, warmth and tenderness.
A hopeless romantic is he, hope still alive.
Awaiting the day when loves candle ignites the flame.
To make his heart glow with the trust, honestly, love, and passion
Of a soul mate he can call his own.
He is the chocolate man.

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The Walls

Made of brick, made of stone,
Colored red, colored gray.
Hard as steel, high as a redwood forest;
The wall are returning to encircle my heart,
And imprison my soul.
It seems they are needed once more.

The wall once protected,
They sheltered,
They hid;
The pain rooted deep within
And kept out the harm without;
Their thick rouge interior,
A comfort from a world filled with doubt.

Once torn down and banished
Stones hauled away.
Sunlight shone like a brand new day,
The air was brisk clean, and new.
The flowers bloomed, colors vibrant
In the morning dew;
Red, yellow, violet and blue,
But now the wall are returning,
I know nothing else to do!

I tried life without the walls,
And it was lovely at first,
Feeling awakened and romance flowed,
As love so sweet sought to take hold.
But then the old familiar pain,
Started anew like a long lost friend,
A past lover,
An uncomfortable old shoe.
And now the wall are returning,
I know nothing else to do!
So now I can feel them being put into place,
Brick by brick,
Stone by stone,
Day by day,
Week by week,
Reject by painful reject
The walls are surrounding my heart,
And enclosing my soul in darkness,
And depression once vanished starts anew.

The walls have returned,
The walls have returned,
But what was I to do?

Up the Mountain

Up the mountain slowly,
Slowly we drive.
Around the switchback curves,
Slowly we drive.
Steeply winding upwards
Into the clouds we ride.
Past cabins and dwellings,
Perched upon cliff faces.
Overlooking peaceful places
We drive.

Up the mountain slowly,
To arrive at our own romantic place,
Upon the mountainside.

Up the mountain slowly
At its beauty we sigh.

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Victorian

Stately house upon the hill,
Why do I love your quite stillness?
You're majestic lines and painted vines,
How I long to caress your skin.

Oh Victorian
How I love to behold thee,
Need to be near thee;
Silent greatness, majestic beauty,
Colors intertwine.

Oh Victorian
Grand lady of grace,
What secrets must you hold within,
What stories left untold;
From a bygone age of old.

Oh Victorian, my Victorian,
Sweet obsession of my dreams,
Will I ever posses thee?
Could I ever love you like you deserve?

Hard to explain this feeling in my heart
How to explain how it feels.
In radiates up from the center of my heart;
Sits in the middle of my throat and congeals.

It comes in waves, this pain I feel
Like the surf upon a beach
Rolling up the shores of my soul
Depositing tiny shards of exquisite pain
Poisoning my very soul.

Sometimes I revel in this most primal of human emotions.
For it lets me know that I am alive.
Otherwise with my deadened heart
I don't know how I'd survive.

One day I'll replace the pain with joy
But, I fear that day is nowhere near.
So I live with my waves of pain
Crashing soundlessly against the walls of my heart.

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Worship Time

People are milling,
People are collecting,
In small groups and large,
In halls, near doorways
Coming together,
For worship time is near.

People hugging,
People laughing,
Children running,
Parents give weary chase,
Decrying their blessed fate.
Its worship time once more.

From inside the meeting hall,
Doors open to let in the masses;
Music drifts,
Music waives,
Music gathers and tickles the ears.
The choir sings joyful songs in praise.
Welcoming newcomers and old to hear the word of God,
And know;
Its worship time once more.

Such a gathering of the faithful;
Young, old,
Children, adults,
Black, White, Yellow, Brown,
Negro, Caucasian, Asian, Latino,
Man, woman,
Husband, wife,
Friends, and lovers,
All gather to hear his word under one roof.
A thousand faithful hearts can be heard
Singing his joyful praise.

The choir sings,
The pastor speaks,
And five give their lives to the lord.
The choir sings,
The pastor speaks,
And all can hear his word.
Psalms the book,
Psalms the word,
In the form of a poem,
In the form of a song.
His word is spoken,
His name is praised.
His law, man's law
Rules in the heart,
And governs the soul.
Worship time, it never really ends...

I know he hurt you,
I know he did.
But don't let him stop you
From reaching out again.

I know he hurt you,
I know he did.
But never let that stop you
From loving again.

Don't let the memory of him
Block out a fresh new love.
Don't let the memory of him
Keep you from feeling the love,
That was sent from above.

Brought by angel in the guise of a man
I bring to thee new life.
I bring to thee a fresh new love.
I bring to thee the moon and the stars from up above.
I will not hurt you, I only seek to heal;
Your wounded heart,
That other would play with and steal.

Thrust me My Lady
Thrust me thou canst.
I ask you to put thy thrust in the palm of my hands.
Happiness I will bring to thee,
Warmth and tenderness too.
For I am the Dark Knight, a white charger I ride.
I am the Dark Knight, and I will stand by thy side.
Thrust me malady for I am real.
It's thy pain, sorrow and suffering I seek to kill.
With understanding, tenderness, gentleness and love,
In my hands I hold it; thy heart I will heal.