• Still God's Children​
  Dear Lord, You are the One True God, hear my prayer. I offer this praise to You and speak not only as Your servant, but also as a servant to those gathered here around me. We are children of Yours here below Your Heavenly Kingdom. Now we rest in search of peace, cooled by your shadow, but tired from all types of work and play. Your glorious light has been shining down on us, as has your cleansing rain. We have been both champions of your Will, and we have stumbled with weak steps in folly. But God, we are all here now, your children together and we need you as individuals as well as a universal whole. Please look favorably upon us and bless us with Your redeeming grace. We see the sky above us still shines with Your glorious light, and as it does, it extends a welcome that can not be denied. Oh God if it be Your will, offer direction to us and enable us to realize your true promise. Grant us entrance into your Heavenly Kingdom, and as we prepare to journey to You, offer help to those of us who need it the most. Thank You Lord for hearing this prayer and also my plea: Please God, recognize that we are all still your children, and love us a little while longer. Love P.J. Amen

​
​A Feast for the Gods
Let it bubble, let it boil while we burn the midnight oil.
Let it brew, let it steep our good friendship, will always keep.
Let it sooth, let it calm until the night turns into dawn.
We have marinated, been seasoned too
By the chef’s recipe, we simmer and stew.
In bubbles we boil and rise to the top
Of our life’s caldron, our own melting pot.
We’re stirred up, and swirled,
By the chef of this world.
His expert hand is desired the most,
As he ladles us out into the cosmos.
Together we’re cooked, two peas in a pod
To be devoured by hungry, ancient gods.

​Once upon a time there lived a rotten little girl.
She smelled of old cabbage and rat roadkill.
She would walk through the streets and sell herself
To the boys she’d meet. She did this in order to capture
them and place them upon here shelf.
She kept this up for many years. Though fun at times,
It began to feed her fears until one day her fears turned real.
That Rotten little girl trapped a boy one day, and did so
 in her usual way, except this boy had planned to be trapped
 and she couldn’t put him away. It was he instead who bottled
Her up and placed her on the shelf; all that rotten
Girl could do was sit there, smelly and yell.
She also had to look upon all the other boys she had trapped.
She sunk down within herself & felt like quite a tramp.
All the boys still sealed in bottles up there on her shelf
Leered at her and cursed her soul because they were stuck in Hell.
Then one day to her surprise, as a morning star shone in her eyes
She saw her chance to begin an escape. In her plight,
Her evil genius rose and formed a plan.
The boy who trapped her, had begun to walk by and swoon at her with 
Fanciful eyes. She licked her lips, blew kisses at him, and said she wanted
To make him a husband. Entranced by her, he agreed to briefly hold her
so that she could breathe the air more deeply. “I am going to uncork your bottle for
just one minute”, when he did, she sprung a trap and the bottle? She quickly locked him in it.
She thought him to be such a big fool, and fancied herself again to be rather clever.
Up on the shelf he had to go, to rot days and nights forever. Quite some time then passed and when it did,
time touched that girl with a fat heavy hand; her shape began to wither. She lost her attraction
and became rather bland and often shivered cold and bitter. Now this rotten girl still stunk of cabbage
and rat roadkill too, attracted maggots, flies and moths and locusts some worms and a shrew.
She got so mad, became bewitched her temper in full throttle, she raced to the shelf scooped them up
and smashed all her bottles. As the boys fell to their deaths, she cursed herself for trapping them.
Her would-be-husband was the last to break, and as he hit the floor, he called out to her through shattered glass,
“you are one rotten, ugly, whore”. A whore she was, who tempted fate and fate became unkind.
It’s true that I had been near that girl, but I never lost my mind. I was lucky to have not been bottled and shelved
By her in that cursed time. For I had been flying among the clouds, high above that mess, and knew somehow
that rotten girl was fueled by wickedness. You still can smell her a mile away to this very day, and if you show her
a bottle and a cork, she will turn and run away. I guess the memory of being trapped, is worse than that of trapping,
but memories ain’t what she seeks, that’s why she’s usually napping.
Either way it’s safe to say, since her beauty has now gone, only broken bottles and her stench remain
and when awake, she’s forlorn. She can only recall bits and parts of her more youthful days.
Now she sleeps and dreams her dreams, for in them is the only way, to have the love she so desires from her yesterdays.
Eventually I know, and it’s more than fare, that sooner or later even her dreams will change.
They will not be pleasant or sooth her mind for they will be nightmares.
Dreams like thoughts will fade away, the nightmares will grow in many ways.
They may even emerge to haunt her waking life and curse the remainder of her days.
For this I blankly shed no tears, for those mistakes fed not my fears, in fact they still don’t.
I might even laugh at her from time to time, then once again take to the skies.
It is a calm relief to know she’s broke, give her a dime I won’t. For broke of cash she may be not
But broke in spirit is how she is poor. I will forever be grateful that I realized,
From the start she truly was a rotten little girl. Ugly to her core.

 h

​

UNDE CONSTRUCTION
​Yes thanks, I slept peacefully and was comfortable as I drifted in my mind and absorbed the relaxing sounds of our secret Island paradise. The lapping waters on the shore seemed to caress and guide my breath as it rose and fell in rhythm with the ebb and flow of the tide. The birds too, it seemed with there tunes, just knew how to sing their sweet songs for us. My ears caught each little note. The tweets so sweet played on my brain the same way your kisses do when you are close and whisper your words to me. There is though dear a mystery it seems for I remember waking from a dream and not being able to hold truth to this thought, as it vanished though sought, a moment to perhaps only be recorded by the palms. I heard illusive whales call out there there, only now it seems they were only in dreams. The release of their breath, that vaporous air, told me they'd surfaced but I never learned where. The silver beams of moonlight cast down through the clouds were not quick enough to show them in song, and with a slap of their tales the moment was gone.  
Oh and darling yes, I do agree. We should come here more often, for to be here with you creates the magic that's needed to allow wishes to come true. I know it is so because I see You when we are here. Not just my love, not just my girl, but I see You. My heart beats for yours, because like me, your fondness for this island puts love into life. When we share this gift and appreciate this place together, we provide the power that completes the link and ties the Earth to Heaven.  Although we may not be able to travel up to the stars to sit with the angels, I know that when you close your eyes and you sleep in my arms, they travel down here to this place and watch over us. Even Cupid smiles when we kiss for he knows his truest arrow has perfectly struck it's mark. Yes I slept well, it was a peaceful slumber. This hideaway always provides that for me. Please call me here to sleep with you anytime you like. There exists no other place on earth with more welcome for me, there exists no other time throughout all creation  I'd rather spend a moment in. If given the choice I would have been born here and when life leads me into the unknown, my desire is for this place to receive my final breath. When we are here together then I am home. I am home again, now. My love I am home.