Rope.

Glimpses.  Just glimpses,
But glimpses nonetheless.
Moments of something,
Amidst the running stress.
Glimpses.  Just glimpses,
But they give a little hope.
A lifeline, to cling to.
I’m holder no tight to rope.

Makes me less.

I know my pattern.
I know my shift.
The things that lift me,
Or have me drift.
Worry always takes my spark.
It removes my patience,
Makes me bark.
I hate that it’s my love for you,
That makes me less,
Than what you’re due.

I stand here still.

I do not fully understand you,
Don’t think I ever will,
But the love that I do have,
Means I stand here still.

Her mother.

I heard it. I knew it.
Life on repeat.
I knew it, ‘cause I feel it.
Sometimes it has me beat,
Sometimes in the moment,
Sometimes as I recover,
But then I know my worth,
Because my girl, she loves her mother.

All release.

Heart tired.  Head tired.
A little broken, a little bruised.
Weary, exhausted,
Slightly overused.
A moment, just a moment.
Desperate for peace.
Just a brief escape.
To let it all release.

Mere moments.

It takes mere moments to change things.
The rug from beneath your feet.
The challenges thrown at you,
You just have to meet.
I sit here and hope,
And then hope some more.
Do the best that you can,
With your heart on the floor.

My lot.

Sometimes it could not be clearer.
Sometimes I don’t understand.
Your behaviour is somehow changeable.
But you rarely play your hand.
Sometimes I worry ‘bout it.
Tonight I chose to not.
Tonight I choose to just enjoy,
The smile from the joy in my lot.