I found this scrap of paper today, at the back of my drawer.
A torn piece of A4 white typek Paper with a centralised verse typed onto it. I realised that it was a poem that my sister Tracy wrote when she was between 10 and 14 years old. I've held onto it since 1994-8 not so much for it's content but because of the raw talent and beautiful style it possesses - read it - you'll agree that it is a beautiful free verse poem.
I only hope that my talented sister is still writing!
"Could it be the one I love,
The one man, the only man that satisfies me.
My lips are dry, my eyes are drenched, is this what is to be?
The honey has grown stale, and my lips know it;
Let them teach my weary soul, for it doesn't understand...
They say I've got gifts beyond the human border,
I've misplaced them. and they live no longer in my soul.
With every tear that splashes onto my chest, I feel freedom.
Then why am I behind bars.
I don't understand the word,
Lines from my jail make it hard to see.
My faith is crushed, but I know you...
Break me from my jail free.
Set freedom in my heart,
Build up my faith with the blood of Christ,
Like glue between broken porcelain.
Dry my eyes and moisten my lips;
With the Word which will be like fresh honey to me.
Let any tear that stumbles from my eyes,
Be rather for the weary at heart than for me.
For the blood of Christ has again and again set me free"
Have a great day
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