It’s a rush of humanity
The lavender rose you hand me
In a world so gnarled and broken
You’re able to smile so brightly
People make me sick, I’m so used to being hurt
Watching others be shredded by the teeth of greed and pride
Humans give you hope, you still believe so strongly
You see the hands that help the beggars
And the passions that make us human
Like a bowl of soup when I’m sick
You’re a sunbeam and the morning dew
A halo of gold and silver covers you like an umbrella
While I see the world illuminated and bloody in the glow of a frayed lightning strike
I want to scream myself raw
But you make me want to sing
You make me close my eyes a smile softly
Your hope is so damn contagious and I find my walls crack a little more each time
You never expect me to change, you tell me I’m beautiful the way I am
Dark and ripped at the edges, a black moon in the night
But the best part about loving you my bright sun
Is that you love me back
Home is always a person. It was never those four walls, the chandelier or the toasters. It was always about that one person.
Disagreements with your partner after a spiritual awakening b like:
Me: “I UNDERSTAND U WANT TO HANG OUT TODAY BUT I NEED THE DAY TO MYSELF. I HAVE TO HONOR MYSELF AND MY BOUNDARIES”
Partner: “OK BABE I DON’T LIKE THAT I DON’T GET TO SEE YOU TODAY BUT I RESPECT U AND UR BOUNDARIES. I WILL TTYL”
Me: “OK BABE HAVE A GOOD DAY I LOVE U”
Many will think money is all what ladies want from a man. Money isn’t everything, there are other things ladies look out for in a man. When you possess these attributes, you can get any lady that you want.
1. Be funny: ladies like guys that are funny, it not all about money you can win a girl’s heart by making her laugh. Just learn how to make a girl laugh.
2. Be attractive: You can win a…
A Few Brave Souls
I was absolutely overwhelmed in those first days.
Cars, cars, cars filled my long driveway and front yard.
People spilling out like ants scrambling after the hill is disturbed.
Oh, our hill was disturbed-knocked wide open by that deputy’s visit. Phone calls to let others know. Phone calls from people who couldn’t get in touch with him and were just checking “in case something had…
What do you do when your ideal/healthiest/most effective type of relationship that you need/crave is the slow burn friends-to-lovers type, but you’re too old to start one because you don’t have time for years to go by before you’re special, and also have no friends, and are also touch-starved?
Sir Stan knew where he was going. He was being taken from the tower to the main part of the castle, held firmly in place by the guards. The first time he was almost caught, Duke Roach roared from Prince Babe’s window, as Sir Stan was escaping on horseback. He vowed that if he was ever caught that he would have a special punishment in store for him.
The guards stop at the end of a hallway, within the base of the castle, in front of a large wooden fortified door. The Captain of the Guard, whose name Stan had learned was Tiny, passes by Sir Laurel, keeping his eyes on him through the skinny visor of his helmet. He then knocks on the door in a coded rhythm. Two well dressed courtiers open the door that leads into the grand great hall of the Duke.
His scribes and other workers were starting to arrive within the morning, milling about the room, taking their rightful places preparing for service to the Duke. The throne of the Duke was covered in the scattered colorful light of six skinny, tall cathedral fashioned stained glass windows.
Duke Roach is at one of the many consorts’ tables talking to a meagerly dressed courtier. He nods, giving some kind of approval then snaps his fingers, quickly waving them at the guards while looking down at notes.
The guardsmen walk Sir Stan over to the front of the slightly elevated throne then push him to the floor. The Duke chuckles, runs his tongue over his teeth and groans with a breathy low sigh.
Lord Hal, as he preferred to be addressed by his minions, lightly reaches out his hand as he stoically looks at Stan. Stan keeps his head lowered while he is on his knees. He will not look up and meet his lordship’s eye. The Duke snaps his fingers once and a servant quickly gives him a chalice and fills it with fruity nectar.
“Thirsty, Sir Laurel? Or hast thy thirst be quench’d within the dark of the night, whilst invading mine own property…?” He asks in a low simmer. Hal walks past Sir Laurel, going to his throne with drink in hand. Roach looks down at the defeated former highly favored scribe, pausing in front of his seat.
“Is’t because it doest not has’t spirits in it? Not stout enough for thee, hmm?” Mocks Roach as he sits down in his lofty throne, keeping his eyes on Stan and taking a sip from the chalice.
“Whatev'r thou has’t did plan, get thee ov'r with. Prithee doth not involve the loyal prince. Twas I, the one yond cameth h’re. That gent hast nary control on whither he goeth within this compound." Sir Laurel pleads hurryingly, looking off to the side and rubbing his sore arm.
"Wast it the window? A hole in a wall? Is thither a mole within the grounds that let thou in at night?” inquires Duke Roach. Hal leans forward looking over Stan, lowering his eyelids. The Duke then shakes his head, sits back in his chair and signals the guardsmen.
Two of the guards raise Sir Laurel off the ground, standing him up. Stan fiercely looks Duke Roach in his eyes, as if to burn holes through his face. He refuses to speak.
“Nay matt'r. The windows shall best barred, the tower inspected and servants interrogated ." The Duke sighs boredly, looking down at his drink.
"Thou cans’t treateth yonder gent like ye’ owneth him!” Stan loudly cries, bolting forward. The guards restrain him. He struggles. He wants to put his hands around the duke’s neck and throttle him. The other members of the court pause and watch the scene before them. They know of the history between Lord Hal’s former favorite and the duke himself.
“That gent sign’d the same contract thou didst! I did warn ye’ of thine actions–now beholdst thee crawling backeth. Thou hast no other choice." Duke Roach retorts firmly.
"Nay for thee…Nor the theater… but for my own partn'r, for my–For…For Babe…" Sir Stan replies, breathing heavily. His chest is heaving with ardent passion and his flashing blue eyes piercing with determination staying steady on the Duke’s, refusing now to look away.
The head guard comes up from behind Sir Stan, going over to the throne. He leans over to Lord Hal’s ear holding his hand to the side of his lordship’s face, whispering. Duke Roach snaps his head to the guard asking him if he was sure in a low curious tone. The guard nods and holds his hands together as he stands straight next to Duke Roach keeping his stance forward facing.
Lord Hal blinks a few times, his mouth slightly agape and then his gaze falls upon Stan. Hal places down his drink, adjusts his tunic and moves around his head, looking down with the guard’s message making him visibly flustered.
"Taketh him out of mine own sight…Maketh sure he is a few yards from the hamlet." The Duke orders.
"Your Lordship, hath not that gent ye did arrest? What is to stand against him from journeying hither again?!” The captain asks in frustration.
“That gent shall knoweth his place, and tis thee and thy mens’ failure that hath him in mine own tower and hither before me! If thou cans’t prove thy selves by keeping him away, then all wilt be out for dereliction." Answers Duke Roach.
The guardsman snaps his head to Sir Stan. Stanley blinks a few times at Duke Roach and Tiny turns his head away.
"I shall maketh sure that gent nev'r ent'rs the hamlet grounds again, my Lord," The captain says in a low sinister tone. "Throweth him as the backwash that he be!”
Sir Stan is dragged out of the court and tossed unceremoniously to the ground. He steadies himself, dusts himself off, breathing in and out slowly. He crosses over to the tower and looks up. He knows his approach must be different from now on if he wishes to ever see Prince Babe again.
“I shall right this, Babe. It may be that I’m gone from hither for a short time, nonetheless hold on to our connecting line. This is not over." Laurel says towards Babe’s window hoping the message warms the chest of the captive prince.
Later, guards and extra hired mason men enter the Prince’s chambers and inspect the room looking for flaws or hidden entrances. Prince Babe sits on his bed, his fingers laced together. He looks forlorn, with tears in his eyes as he watches on while the craftsmen install bars in the room window.
"Thou didst hide that nobleman somewhere. Where, dammit! Where?!” The guard captain roars in his face.
“I–I solely did want to see-eth that gent. We… Prithee. We didst not mean any harm, I wast bethinking of–” Prince Babe started but was soon interrupted by the captain slamming a side table to the floor.
He then looms over the sitting Prince. Babe looks up at him. Tears start to run down Hardy’s reddening face with a slightly open mouth.
“The Duke hast been valorous to thee, fair payeth, giving all of us employment, and ye’ gift him by harb'ring venom. I wanteth answers not thy fetches and drops of sorrow or so help me I shall solveth the problem of thy Sir Laurel swiftly for all of us. ” Demands the enraged guard.
“What–what doth thee mean to do?!” Asks a concerned prince looking up at the overbearing man.
The captain pulls a dagger from his side and places it a few centimeters from the corner of Prince Babe’s eye. The terrified Hardy follows the tip of the dagger as it traces his face in a slow circular motion. His lips tremble awaiting the captains next move.
“Dost thou gage to leaveth Stanley ‘lone!?” Prince Babe asks, blinking away tears and looking down with raised eyebrows.
“Bid me ev'rything and I shall maketh yond decision.” Answers the guard.
“NAY!” Yells Prince Hardy in a stern, strong tone. His face transforming from fear to strength.
“What?!” says the guard in shock. “Thou have no wager in this, Prince. Tis’ either–”
“Not until thou promiseth and gage as a guardian, a man and bef’re our lord yond thee shalt harm any part of Sir Stanley Laurel!” Babe demands looking up at the guard with vigor and force.
The headguard is taken a back at Prince Babe’s sudden boldness, retracting then juggling the dagger handle in his hand and looking down at the tearful, yet assured Prince.
“Thou wonst get anywhere with threats, Captain." Duke Roach says as he leans in the entryway of the chamber. Both Prince Babe Hardy’s and the head guard’s attention is turned to the sudden words from the Duke.
"My Lord, I wast about to–” Starts the head guard.
Duke Roach walks over, waving his hand with closed eyes, then sitting next to Prince Hardy. Prince Babe looks at the Duke, then rubs the tears from his own eyes. Lord Hal heavily places a hand on Babe’s shoulder, rocking him slightly. He then looks at the guard with a stone face.
“Force and threats. Treats and bonuses. It falls passeth these two. Their loyalty is stout'r and sharp'r than any blade thee shall ev'r weld." Hal says to the guard.
The captain puts away his dagger, sighing with exasperation vocally from his iron helmet.
"And if ’t be true I catcheth 'r heareth of thou threatening any part of the prince’s well being again, thee shall feeleth the strength of mine own blade. That goeth f'r yond bold Sir Stanley also. I’m in official arbitration with that man for this ov'rly giving gent here, and it wouldst not behold valorous if ’t be true something suddenly hath happened to that Laurel.”
“My Lord, I–It wast that… I shall protect the grounds as ordered with thy men, sir." Replies the defeated headguard.
Deep Gratitude For Those Who Keep My Lamp Burning!
There are days when my lamp burns so low it’s nearly extinguished.
Those are the days when I really need someone-anyone-to reach out and fan the flame.
I know, I know, for my fellow believers in Jesus we are admonished to “take it to the Lord in prayer”.
I absolutely DO that.
But it was no mere convention that the disciples were sent out two by two. God has made us for community and He has…
No, love alone won’t fix everything. But damn, if it isn’t the singular most necessary thing.