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Bedtime Prayer
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My Boys, Easter 2013
June 7th, 2007

Unuttered by Jade

I was looking through my stuffs and found a small notebook. I scanned through the pages and found this poem written not too long ago by one of the most talented writers i know, my sister.

~ by Jessica

You see him from a distance
He could draw you to melting eyes
Amidst, unwanted memories came crashing by

You look at him as if not really looking
And He catches you as if he never does
Damn, pretenders are much in need.

You catch him gaze at you
Or maybe it’s just your imagination
You gaze back and fire ablaze

Still from a distance, you were caught off guard
You start to quiver, you become shy
Your eyes tell a lot so you close it instead
Wishing you could hide what’s deep inside.

He passes you by as if you weren’t there
But his eyes tell different
It burns you …. then he signs

May 23rd, 2007

Cute As A Bug


Baby Matthew at almost 10-months old.
Picture taken on May 12, 2007.

January 16th, 2007

Bedtime Prayer

Sleeping Matthew

Sleeping Baby Matthew
Photo taken Jan. 3, 2007

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
and angels watch me through the night
and keep me in their blessed sight.

August 23rd, 2005

Sonnet XVII ( Love Sonnet )

A poem by Pablo Neruda.

Love Sonnet

I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

March 26th, 2005

Somewhere I Have Never Travelled

A poem by e.e. cummings.

somewhere i have never travelled

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

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