Tiredness and Poetry

My artsy side is crying out for sustenance. I keep wanting to do something special with my middle children (Cody & Abby) in the afternoons when they get home from school but I run into road blocks (mainly getting things ready for the next day, fixing supper, being extremely tired after chasing Justin and Lucy). Abby got a beautiful art kit for Christmas and I keep promising we will have "art" lessons. Well, maybe this weekend we will. I wish I had the energy of my youth when all my older children were young. I don't remember being this tired although I could have been. I do remember taking naps with them, something I don't really like to do anymore because it seems to waste the wonderful quiet time I crave. Don't get me wrong, I love being a (older) mom, for the most part it's a blast. Retirement is definitely postponed for me.

Okay, so in lieu of being able to do much with my artsy smartsy side, I decided to post some old poetry just for the heck of it. I don't know if anyone will get on and read it because so far, I've had no visitors to this blogsite. Not that I'm bitter or anything. : )

he, he

My Shell

This hardened crusty shell envelopes me
It has protected me from all the pain and sin without
No one knows me, no one knows my secret fears
This shell of mine grows stronger through the years
My inside is tender and incomplete, my inside is vulnerable, touchy and sweet
If my inside were exposed, I might cry
If my inside were crushed I could even die
This hardened crusty shell is so confining
I can't grow, I can't breathe, I can't love, I can't give
How can I live?
I struggle in vain to keep my shell intact
My shell cracks, breaks, and crumbles into dust
Only now will I realize the power of trust
Oh Lord, you have exposed my heart and soul.
Only now am I free to bleed, bleed for those who hurt, bleed for those in need.