If Friends Were Flowers

I've heard it said, 'If friends were flowers, I'd pick you.'
But that is all nonsense and frill. Friends are not flowers, and thank God for that. No, indeed, you'll be with me much longer than those flowers on the sill.

No, if friends were jewels, I'd set my crown with whatever gem was you.
If friends were colors, all my sweaters would be bought in that hue.
Could they be songs, you already know, but you'd be my favorite tune.
If silverware, I'd have soup every night, assuming you're the spoon.

And if friends were rhymes, I'd write you... I'd be humming you too.

Sand

I sit on the shore, writing out my thoughts in sand
Hoping the waves can steal from mind, as from my hand.
Erase the memories, dreams and gone-so-soons,
Pull them out, and drive them away by the moon.

Adieu

Goodnight moon.

Goodnight sweet love.

Goodnight hopes we've strewn,

And dreams so sweet above.

Oh hopes and love, adieu adieu.

Goodnight moon.

Goodnight sweet child.

Goodnight tales we've strewn

And truthes ever so restyled

Oh tales, or truth, adieu adieu.

For now, goodnight. And goodnight moon.

To the rest of you, I only bid, adieu.

Building Forests

The danger of a little girl like me, who's very name is Hope, is she can't help but build forests with whatever seeds she finds to sow. Oh fell the trees. And while her tears fall at dusk, let them feed those seeds no more. Tell her some trees grow for centuries and can't be moved by a passing breeze. They were planted long before you Hope, but Hope is carved at their feet, and whispered by their leaves.

Roots

I'm waiting, without knowing what I'm waiting for. And so, I just keep waiting.

And I'm wondering, is hope supossed to hurt? Because sometimes, hoping hurts. Does that mean my hope is not set on what it ought to be? I think perhaps so. For I've been told hope does not disappoint.

Lord, let love grow in my heart, strong and true. Let roots of hope find solid ground to grow, let them reach deep into You. That though my eyes don't know what to look for, and my hands aren't sure what they should reach for, that the roots will know their branches and the hope will see it's truth.

Inside Your Song

Build me a home inside your song
Frame my walls inside those eyes of steal
Then sweep away my fears and paint me real.

Build me a home that's strong.
Where your words become my heart's seal
And rhythms find a way to heal.

Getting Along

I think I get along with you just fine.
But getting along without you-
Well, that's giving me a hard time.