Blog, Poetry

The Hike

Walking along the beaten path, trodden down by travelers past.

A creek runs parallel along the way, upon the banks it’s ripples play.

A twig snaps from some place near, it is my friend Mr. Deer.

The yipping of a fox heard from afar, telling me stay where you are.

This terrain can be a beast, it isn’t easy to say the least.

The beauty that I see, worth the trek to me.

The raccoon wears his menacing mask, foraging is his task.

As I near rabbits scurry away, after I pass returning to their play.

The squirrel it’s agility freeing, is content with being.

Hawks glide above with style and grace, something special is this place.

Poetry

Awaiting Spring

Nature brings us ice and snow, in time cold will secede to the Heat. Soon colors of green begin to show, old man winter will retreat.

We see the children in the park as they play, their laughter lifts our Spirits High. The birds sing inviting spring to stay, happy and content to keep them we try.

Rabbits as they hop to their destination, taking time to fight along the way. The trees buds begin to sprout, along with the perennials left lay. Spring awaited a treat no doubt, she is beautiful a day like today.

The queen bee searches for something to eat, after her winter in solitude, the butterflies beauty cannot be beat, along with the bee shows his gratitude.

The Woodpecker taps the tree to show it belongs to him, he doesn’t like to share. Frogs and tadpoles start to appear, the frogs in the distance we hear.

Soon it will be time to fish, spring awaited and answered wish.

JILL L. WARE

Poetry

The Lake

The breeze brushes across my face, Cooling with its strength and speed.

I think I’ve finally found my place, the lake having the serenity I need.

The wind slows as the sun appears, bringing with it the afternoon heat.

A frog somewhere behind me I hear, a day like this is hard to beat.

I watch the minnows from where I sit, swimming past without a care.

Mother finally comes into sight, mess with her babies I not dare.

The baskets hang as beautiful as can be, Blooms full with color of white and red.

The birds have yet to visit me, when they do they will be happy and fed.

The hammock hangs off in the distance, I wont use it without assistance you see.

Falling out I’m not taking the chance, There is a scardy cat in me.

As the ripples gently kiss the shore, the shore completely unaware.

I grab the pole with my favorite lure, For a while the lake with it I share.

Jill L. Ware

Poetry

The Bouquet

The Bouquet is full and bright, on this God has surely shone his light.

Geraniums crimson red, the color of the blood His son shed.

Suzy she is a black eyed lady, there isn’t a thing about her shady.

The Mandeville bursting with pink blooms, heavy with buds it’s stems loom.

With petals as fine as paper machete, the poppy has come out to play.

The cornflower in the deepest blue, is always staring at you.

Then tiny but true is the one called baby blue.

Jill L. Ware

Poetry

Imperfection

Imperfect we were meant to be, so our flaws he could see.

Each of us made unique, so the Savior we would seek.

I have scars that will never heal, imperfect the make me feel.

No one notices nor cares, that someone’s mark my face bares.

These lesions I hide well, to look you cannot tell.

It’s no birth defect-I am not blemished, with me He is not finished.

Blog

Soft Hearted Man

It`s no wonder they love him!

This man who melts my heart, From all the others he is set apart.

This man that puts his needs last, he’s helped me forget that past.

This man with eyes of blue, has been better for me than I ever knew.

We have our days that’s for sure, for the bad days there’s no cure.

I see forever when I truly see the man he has become, it is him for me or none.

It has taken 20 years to get where we are, our lives are better by far.

This man is mine!

Blog, He Is So Not Like Me, Poetry

He Is So Not Like Me

I have loved him since the day he was conceived, the joy he brought me I’d never believe.

His personality was that of a clown, lifting me up when I was down.

He was terrified to go on stage, which got much better with age.

Eventually I left his dad, It was the worst feeling I ever had.

Joint custody was not for me, forever changed our life would be.

Me his mother you would never guess, what a beautiful mess.

Drums, guitar, piano are just a few, of the many things he can do.

He is smarter than I ever was, excellent at all he does.

He will never know the love I carry in me, forever in my heart he will always be.

Jill L. Ware

About Me

About Me

I am new to this but thought it couldn’t hurt to let some of my frustration out there for you all to see that you are not alone in your struggle to be normal. It is truly exhausting trying to be the person everyone thinks you should be. I don’t exactly know how long I have had bipolar and borderline personality disorder. But I imagine well over 35 years. As many people with these disease my parents divorced at a young age and I was sexually abused at the age of 10. I absolutely hate confrontation. So I can’t say no to people and finally the only way I can say no is by being a crazy lady. I write poetry as an outlet and will be posting on my site over time.

I am going to treat this as a daily journal. I will post for you all to read, the good, the bad, and the ugly in my life. And hopefully there will be more good than bad. But I want you to know you aren’t the only one out there struggling to stay afloat.

I was admitted to a hospital after a nervous breakdown and it had been 10 years after my last hospitalization for my disease. The doctor told me how lucky I was to only be hospitalized twice in 10 years. I informed her that id been out in society for those ten years making a damn fool out of myself. There were several times I really should have been institutionalized.

There is beauty all around if you just look for it!

Blessed Beyond Measure, Blog

Blessed Beyond Measure

I Love My Family! What a beautiful gathering we had for Mother’s Day.

Anaya, Adalyn, Jayson, Me and Hope
My beautiful mother and baby Jayson
Hope Azalea is precious
Joshie to me he will always be
Aunt Whitney and Uncle Casey Getting baby fever?
Cheyanne probably feels like she is at the daycare