So long hoped for, dreamed of wanted Pleasures forsaken, I now feel taunted if only gross efforts would tie and secure pursuits once sure of…now obscure If I were alone on an island, just me No plans to be thwarted by him or she come mishap, I’d know where to lay blame the dreamer the foible both one and the same No one to stand in the way of my quest My choice first considered deciding what’s best Me alone to be pleased when I am choosing No disparity here to make options confusing No persons who look to me for their needs Wanting my efforts, and all my proceeds. Is it anger, disappointments? I feel deep inside That causes this fantasy of an island to hide Is it having offered more than I may have had Taken, not valued that’s making me mad Or do I mean sad, yes sad says it well Have my labors born gain; it’s too early to tell Will my offspring yet notice the sweat of my brow? To provide for them then, to keep loving now Will I live long enough, to see what I’ve sewn? Empathy to sunsets, sunrises I’ve known Will I pray as I see their own child in their hand? They now walk a path, to yet understand.
Words 2007, Art 2015 Patsy P.