Crowned by Thorns

Crowned by thorns of golden spokes,

cruel barbs, a case in point –

keeping others at arm’s length,

resentful, noses out of joint;

rapiers high, you stand on guard,

covering heart with spines of steel,

hoisted on your own petard,

you’ve forgotten how to feel.

Rest in Me

When your way grows weary, and your heart grows sore,

When your spirit gets bashed onto distant shore,

When you know in your soul you can’t walk anymore,

Rest in Me.

When your feet get splintered by the road you tread,

When the tasks on your list fill your mind with dread,

When you can’t escape rounding the merry-go-sped,

Rest in Me.