I Celebrate Me

My baby glamour girl

I’ve put away
Little girl dreams
And little girl ways
But the world
Doesn’t stop there

I can go on
It’s okay
Wiser now
Jaded heart
Still intact

No one knows

My Jaded Girl

But I rejoice
I celebrate me
And the party
Is grand

~Sara Jane~

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Safe

I keep myself
In a box
Somewhere
Safe

Sometimes
I escape
And the wounding
Happens

I gather myself
And take inventory
Tucking me in
Again

Sigh and breath
Glance and dream
Hold and love
Safe in a box

~Sara Jane~

Words Of His Heart

As my love sits beside me
Playing his guitar
Singing and humming
My heart fills and I smile.

This gentle giant 
Stumbled upon me
And offered his shelter

As I was drowning one day.

Kissing my forehead
He took my hand
And oh so gently
Pulled me back to myself.

Words of his heart
Rained  from his mouth
Softly falling all around me
He anchored my life.

We road my storms out
He and me
He held me up
And I just held on.

My smiles are for him now
As my sun shines daily
And his lovely words
Have turned to song.

~Sara Jane~



 

I’ll Always Remember

The mother we loved was full of quick conversation
History, genealogy and loads of memories.

The mother we loved respected God and all His creation
People, nature, critters, ah yes, all of these.

The mother we loved was an optimistic sensation
Lifting spirits, drying tears, everything to please.

The mother we love now has Alzhiemer’s
Meaningless jabber replaces her engaqing talk.

The mother we love is overcome with a diseases for “old timers”
She curses God, His critters and even the land they walk.

The mother we love is transformed for all times
Where there was hope, fear and doubt now stalk.

The mother we loved lives on in our hearts
We hide our tears and force the smile

The mother we loved would help us to start
Healing our wounds with memories on file.

The mother we loved will never part
“The journey to Him,” she’d say, “takes many a long mile.”

~Sara Jane~

Broked

I limp along in my stupid broken life.

This stupid broken place I created before I was old enough

To even know what the hell I was doing.

I try to repair the things that I’ve broke.

I tear them down and start from scratch

But still the cracks show.

The rips return time after time.

I tape them up and pray they’ll stick this time.

I’m real.

I’m for sure.

I pay for my mistakes every day.

The dues are astronomical.

I’m not a real grandma.

I’m not a real wife.

I’ve never even been a real fiancé’

I’m just this person who’s broke everything she’s ever dreamed of.

Who is sad about her broken things

Who doesn’t know how it got so messed up

Who’s wondering why.

And how.

Tired of halves and shareds and could’ve would’ve and should’ves

And how do I start anew?

I don’t even know.

~Sara Jane~

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