For the benefit of Misses Kite,
Who asked me to sing a song tonight.
I must confess, I will be late
though I did not intend to complicate.
It seems the world is slightly crazy
Both mind and heart are feeling hazy.

You see, there lives inside this skin
a song that doesn’t know where to begin.
The pulse is there, the lyrics wait
but compliments fail to penetrate.
So many hurts have come before
I do not hear trust, anymore.

Though, Misses Kite, she draws me fine
I do not see the face as mine.
And my song, though it may sound thready
is almost, sort of, not quite, ready.
With time and slow going
confidence  in my heart is growing.

For the benefit of Misses Kite,
I will sing my song tonight
with jugglers, mystics, and music fair
I will be late, but I will be there.
If she will pardon my uncertain way
she will hear me sing today.

Stink Eye

Do not let words spoken
divert you from deep dreaming.
Be a fighter bee
and sting each backside
that presents an angry ass.

Do not let thoughts unkind
lead your path to now unwind.
Be the thread that sews a life.
Do not give in to strife!

Fight each mocking brow that tilts.
Just offer up a smile (and a sip or two of tea)
and whistle, like your kettle,
as you set your eye and chin.

Do not let belief be measured
by the yardstick of another.
Be the ruler of your kingdom
and the stick by which others measure.

Copyright © 2011 
Bekki Bedow
 all rights reserved.
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The Peaceful Pub
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