What's in a cup?

  What do you want from me, my love? What do you want from me, my love?   I can give you joy I can give you love I can give you faith and hope and things dreams are made of.   What do you want from me, my love? Can I give you all that you deserve?   Will I fill your heart all days? Will I make your mind race?   What do you want from life with me? What can you see that I can’t see? What do your dreams look like? Of what do you fantasise?   Will you be my love for sure?   Will you hold my hand ’n adore?   Will you be faithful? Will you be kind?   Will you follow Jesus Divine?   Will you be my love for sure?   Will you hold my hand and adore? Will you be faithful? Will you be kind? Will you follow Jesus for life?   Written on 21 November 2021

  Emptiness is a dead-weight I carry around.   He was intent on filling me up with his love and affections   as though I were an empty cup that needed pouring into   Written on 10 July 2021

  Placid balloons and blooming roses   fill new spaces in my home once drab and dirty laces now sexy lingerie at candlelight and love songs singing through the night I have no tears left all wounds are healed my heart abounds and leaps   for love is here among the words of joy and kindness and the smiles of hope and sweet romance of old-fashioned dating and cliched   wining and dining and late nights   sing song   A perfect romance,   sweep-me-off-my-feet whispering sweet nothings and giving compliments   a confidence in family and invites to friends and colleagues such generosity such enthusiasm and excitement injected into my life   so suddenly and unexpectedly unwillingly but interested all the same perhaps indeed my dam is full   and I am leaking with emotions   he is accepting every morsel   and turning it around   to suit his lonely body and soul   and wishing for love and care   but not realising how cold ...

  She looked the part She played the part She sang her merry tunes We applauded her Adored her Admired her every move We sang her praises   and watched her body trickle down the stairs as she glided gloriously into her grammy seat   after winning an award   She looked the part She played the part We thought she had it all We admired her   envied her We didn’t see at all inside her soul   great suffering   a torture she endured because   She looked the part   She played the part She fell apart for sure We picked her up We cleaned her up We held her hands   and prayed   Her soul was torn   Her clothes worn   She didn’t see the light of day   The stage lights dimmed Her voice was cracked   and silence filled the room It took not one   but several years   to fill her own shoes again She found the light She got on stage   She played the part again.   She looked the part.   She played the part....

  Oh tears   From whence you fall?   A cloud of love that once was born   rained down such a beautiful song,   a pitter patter at the front door   and passionate thunder roars. Oh tears,   Is this what is left   of the pink cloud of love   that once filled my horizon,   which I questioned and misunderstood, even after I heard the pitter patter once more, And I knew the drops would consistently fall?   They were always gentle.   It never hailed. It never hurt.   Loved. Did his love run dry? No.   I did not grow. It’s as though the ground was hard,   the soil enriched but unyielding,   like the fig tree that Jesus cursed,   and I remembered my vow   never to fall in love again after being hurt.   Oh tears, Oh cloudless sky,   Pink fluffy clouds gone with butterflies. I blew them away,   quietly, consistently, persistently   for freedom,   for self, for love.

Love eludes me like a feather of a winged bird  that zigzags through the sky and lands next to me  on an empty chair.  My soul is the colour of the ocean whose moods sway like the tides and leaves an impression carefree but whose riptides take in  what lands on the surface  and drags it down deep  to where the blues are black  and depression sinks in I spit out what does not belong but I am forever changed  one by one I am told the ocean is beautiful  but I just feel ignored  as though the wind were a storm and won't let the feather rest  in my hand and in my heart.  

 I cock my head onto its side And pull a pitiful smile over my face And wonder how other women are behaving To receive and hold the attention To be loved, loving and lovable Who have faith and also religion My heart has shrunk to a tiny ball I am not quite sure what it holds  Except the lonely pain of an empty life Void of the one thing that matters most The thing that changes the color of your world  Without it, God says, you have nothing.  Hence I feel the loom of nothingness.  I feel like nothing. I feel nothing.  Just an empty shell.  Void of the one thing I can’t do without.  I don’t have a plan.  Always relied on fate. How different is fate to faith?  What do I really believe?  Proverbs 22:6

My chest pulls tight from choked tears, Whose sadness seeps into my sullen soul Like asphalt churned and poured out  Onto my future where once grew wild. I cannot hold your past in my palm Without running out of runway,  So I face the only one I know - my God -  To turn my road ahead into a riverbed.  Before I am broken in tears, I pine for the river to flow into the sea  Where all tears are laid to rest  Before evaporating into the sky. 

 You’re hanging in the balance. Your life tip toes, see-saws, tick tocks,  Swings to and fro. I seek to know all of what’s inside of you;  I want to turn you on your head,  Shake, rattle and roll you Til you empty yourself  And trust me enough  To see the whole picture  With God’s frame around your life.  He created that masterpiece  That is so precious to Him  And that He seeks to restore fully  In His own image,  No matter the length of time Until you stand upright again.