PeopleWithMS - Poems
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Lake of linen
The woman that I love does not consider my frail body to be anything more than a skipping
stone hydroplaning across a lake of linen. The lake empties into the river of desire, stream
of fire
Beware the undertow, take it slow, oh no, here we go, soaking in each other’s arms, in our
lake of linen there is no sinnin’, no drowning in our lake of linen. When you catch your
breath; there is no death in our lake of linen.
The woman that I love sails the stormy water, fisherman’s daughter, to find me here, island of
fear, sweet searchlight, hold me tight, no land in sight. Just her and I, Waves so high in our
lake of linen.
Beware the undertow, take it slow, oh no, here we go, soaking in each other’s arms, in our
lake of linen there is no sinnin’, no drowning in our lake of linen. When you catch your
breath; there is no death in our lake of linen.
Elbows bend, tissues mend. Wrists strain, muscles pain. In our lake of linen pain is sinnin’,
but its not winnin’, cast it out; hear your shout, across the water, fisherman’s daughter, in
our lake of linen.
Beware the undertow, take it slow, oh no, here we go, soaking in each other’s arms, in our
lake of linen there is no sinnin’, no drowning in our lake of linen. When you catch your
breath; there is no death in our lake of linen.
Time for drifting, tide is shifting, out and in, smooth linen, rest is pure, sleep is sure,
muscles slack, time is back, breathing calms, dreaming psalms, safe harbor now, ride the bow,
land in sight, hold on tight, in our lake of linen.
Beware the undertow, take it slow, oh no, here we go, soaking in each other’s arms, in our
lake of linen there is no sinnin’, you can’t drown in our lake of linen. When you catch your
breath; there is no death in our lake of linen.
©2008 kcjohnson
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Imagine strong legs
I find myself still afraid to dance, even in my dreams
A lone misstep, a head long fall, like murder it would seem
I rarely danced when I had the chance, rhythm was not my friend
I wish I had dared confront the fear and danced until my end
I don?t dream about wheels attached to my heels, or long boards breaching the surf
I imagine two legs, long and strong, once again walking this earth
I know my self so much better now, I go inward most everyday
I confront my fears, bless my tears and thankfully go on my way
But, damn, damn those danceless years when I had the chance
I could have strolled, waltzed and rolled or made-up an all new prance
I don?t dream about wheels attached to my heels, or long boards breaching the surf
I imagine two legs, long and strong, once again walking this earth
If again I could run, I would give thanks to the Son, worship Him everyday
But, I lie on my ass, smoking His grass and praise Him anyway
And damn, damn those praiseless years, when I had the strength
To walk and skip and walk some more, no matter what the length
I don?t dream about wheels attached to my heels, or long boards breaching the surf
I imagine two legs long and strong, once again walking this earth
My long muscles strode down any old road, about three steps at a time
If I saw something shine on the side of the street, this cat could stop on a dime
And all that time that I could have strode, instead I usually rode
Now I must ride, just roll on and hide, trying not to do what I?m told
I don?t dream about wheels attached to my heels, or long boards breaching the surf
I imagine two legs long and strong, once again walking this earth
I don?t dream about wheels attached to my heels, or long boards breaching the surf
I imagine my legs again long and strong, humbly walking this earth
© 2008 kcjohnson
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Don't Give Up
By Anonymous
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest! if you must; but don't you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up, though the pace seems slow;
You might succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup.
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out;
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt;
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit;
It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit
THANK YOU BILL
FROM ENGLAND!
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MY MS
DIAGNOSIS
My life with MS----oh what a big mess.
Such fear and wonderment you can guess.
For my doctor many questions I'll ask.
Please, please calm my fears all at last.
He says to me there is no cure.
I'm afraid many symptoms you'll have to endure.
Oh brotherr not what I wanna hear for sure.
But doctor look I'm only 28.
Surely that can't be my only fate
Also he says I'm sorry to relate
That no MS drugs are available to date
And so he looks me in the eye.
MS you see will not make you die.
Go live your life as best you can.
Okay I thought, I'll just show him.
That was in 1979.
And so far I'm doing just fine
By Boomer
Girl
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Look Well to This Day
Anonymous, 50 B.C.
Look well to this day,
For it and it alone is life.
In its brief course
Lie all the essence of your existence:
The Glory of Growth
The Satisfaction of Achievement
The Splendor of Beauty
For yesterday is but a dream,
And tomorrow is but a vision.
But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness,
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.
Bill..................England.
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