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the ground is soft after a storm

prime for pulling weeds that don’t belong

it strikes me as i kneel at my flower bed

hands in dirt, removing weeds

the flower bed is like my heart

a storm has raged

anger, bitterness tried to take root

sadness an depression followed suit

pulling them like weeds

making room for love and joy to bloom

the ground is soft after a storm

some weeds more stubborn

leave my hands covered in dirt

and making marks on delicate fingers

just like the weeds inside my heart

some hurts are more deeply rooted

and yet, all weeds must go

if the flowers i want to grow

~Rachel E. Brown: July 9,2013~


Broken Doll


Little Doll broken shattered beyond repair
Learned that life and love is not quite fair
Out of shadows and darkness you came
Repaired a broken doll and erased her pain
Lifted from the depths of despair she flourished
Rescued from the trash, You chased her fears away
In your love, under your care, she felt nourished
In Your arms she felt cherished and treasured
No longer worthless, her beauty was like nothing ever seen
Tears faded and pain eased with time
With your help this doll felt all would be fine
At one time this doll felt she’d never love again
Yet she did not taken in account your desire to win
This cracked porcelain sealed with your kisses
The scars of her heart firmly sealed with Your love
signed in sharpie “Bama was here”
It feels only right  to entrust You with my heart, my body, my life
i love You  and am forever Your babydoll, Your skittish kitten,Your wife.

~~Rachel E. Brown  June 23,2013~~

*Note: This was based off something my friend Tiffany wrote, and modified and adapted for my life with her permission. *