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AVA C.A.R.E Cast Your Stone Choose to be love Create A Ripple Effect Daily Prompt Deaf Massage Therapist Heart to heart Jeanna' Soul kindred spirits Make Love Massage with Soul writers with soul Writing

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A client inspired this poem. 

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Cast Your Stone Choose to be love Create A Ripple Effect Daily Prompt deaf girl Deaf Massage Therapist Heart to heart Jeanna' Soul kindred spirits Make Love massage Massage with Soul Uncategorized writers with soul Writing

The Hard Way

It had been a long time coming

But still it caught her by surprise

She let her guard down

Just a little

But it was enough

To show her once again

That her instincts were her guardians

Her intuition was her strength

In the chaos

And in the peace

The past, the present and the days yet to come

She had learned 

The hard way

Not to go against

The whispers of her conscience

Tell-tale signs from her body

Sheltering her soul

Giving entrance only to the things and the people

That belonged

On her table

In her heart

Her space

Her life

Held 

Cherished

Known

Loved

In their own ŵay

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AVA Cast Your Stone Choose to be love Create A Ripple Effect deaf girl Deaf Massage Therapist Heart to heart kindred spirits Make Love Massage with Soul Uncategorized writers with soul Writing

 I Count

I count

The books on the shelf

Pictures on the wall

Candles and lamps

Candy in the dish

Every single blind 

All the outlets, too

Every hole and crack

Anything at all

To pass the time

Help me look the part

Play the role

Like I’m supposed to do

I count the steps And the pews

 The ladies and gents

All the children, too

While looking straight ahead

At the preacher I can’t understand 

I count the minutes on the clock

The number of reps

Those on my scale

And those that let me know

If anyone’s been reading my poems

I count the days since

The last time you came by

And i count down

To the next time

I count the kisses

Wrapped in shiney foil

Cause I always lose count

Of the kisses on my lips

I count the flowers as they bloom

But I never count the seeds

I plant

I count the boots 

Laying in my closet

God alone counts the steps I’ve taken in them

I count on my friends

That count on me

I always seem to lose count

Of how much money I’ve made

But sure seems like somehow there’s always just enough

I count all my blessings

Till I fall asleep

And I just keep on counting

As if,somehow, it’ll feel like  I  count, too.

1 07 p.m.  

3-1-17