Stuck in the Mud (a poem)

I feel so stuck in the mud.
It is disheartening.
I tell myself
to move on
to let go
to have hope
and to love again
but those things
are easier said then done.
Rejection takes such an ugly toll.
Fiery darts to your soul.
Part of your heart feels forever wounded
and the healing is so painfully slow.
So tired of this world.
Guys want a girl’s body
but that can destroy her heart.
I wish more guys
were walking in honor and seeking
a woman worth waiting for
rather than pleasure for the moment.
But some things should be sacred
and in a lifetime commitment.
Marriage is a sacrament,
but society mocks the holy
and people of faith
and that makes me
want a revival of passion
and purity.
Maybe my guy is out there
amidst the billions of people
in this world.
But he keeps passing me by
and thus the longing in my heart
makes me cry.
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Love is the Hope

The girl has a
hopeful heart.
Tired and forlorn
but still beating,
still prayerful,
and still seeking lasting love.
Love is the hope
of her.
Time smiles
and seasons come and go
for the girl
but she sees a future
in the distance
brighter than her current moments
and glistening with a golden sheen
like the sun and a thousand brilliant lights.
Love is the hope
of beautiful moments.
She is not backing down
from faith.
She is not giving up
having trust in her God
and His good hand
of provision for her.
Love is the hope
of God’s faithfulness.
Love beckons in the distance
still to be found and embraced
and toward that distance
she will go.

Love Tarries

Embed from Getty Images

Love tarries
as sunrises and sunsets,
new moons,
summer,
fall,
and winter
come and go
and another spring bashfully peaks
through the horizon.
The delay
and wait for love
weighs down my heart
with much sadness.
I feel forsaken
by love.

Men in my age range
seem to prefer model-types,
exotic foreign girls,
girls who like to flirt,
or girls who run after guys
and make things happen.
So, I’m no model,
nor do I want to be,
and beauty ultimately should come from within,
but I fault too many guys
for caring too much about appearance
and putting it on a pedestal,
and not caring enough about qualities
like compassion or intelligence or courage.
I don’t have exotic foreign appeal.
Alas, I can’t compete with that.
And I’ve never been one
much for flirting.
I appreciate genuine connection
and prefer to be monogamous
with flirting, but in dating
and not with every single guy.
I’m more traditional in nature,
and want to be pursued,
but society seems to laugh
at that these days.
I can be both traditional,
as well as for women having equal access
and opportunity in both the home and work sphere.

Love tarries
like a long, cold winter
when spring seems like it is forever gone,
and I sigh
and grow in patience,
albeit somewhat ungracefully,
in this wait for beautiful and lasting love.

Love is elusive

Feeling forlorn

and forsaken.

Love is

elusive,

a mist that seems to

vanish

or a shimmering beautiful mirage.

Looking for substance

and commitment,

I find

lack.

Lack of love.

Friendship love abounds,

but my heart

longs for romantic love,

hand holding,

kissing,

sunsets,

and shared magical moments.

Commitment

is a beautiful word,

but I wonder

if I am the only one

who thinks that is true?

Seeking a man

who will commit to me

in spite of fear

and who thinks that I

am amazing in spite of all my faults

is my most vulnerable and cherished hope.

Love and commitment meet.