Work of Hearts

Scratched and Scattered Soul I know I bring lovely light With me where I go. Grace always gives me insight, But I wonder if you know-- How I’ve torn off pieces of me To help others feel whole. How I’ve helped them feel free, Keeping my emotions in control. I deeply see, feel, and am fully aware That I’m depth in a shallow world of disconnection, Running out of pieces of me to share. S. Ambrose, 2022

See Me Whole People overthink before they finish a blink Thinking about how to upgrade so feelings won’t fade The grass isn’t greener on the other side It’s green where the water hits the soul inside Real love slowly grows where patience flows It builds by showing up and being there It’s something to work at and through, hand in hand How quickly people are let go, I’ll never understand Everyone rushes to a finish line, plucking fruit off a vine I won’t settle for what doesn’t water my soul Before its ripped season Without a meaningful reason Everyone’s trying to live up to an ideal that doesn’t feel real. I’d rather lie on hot coal than settle in my soul About what creates a real  connection Without looking for  perfection I don’t want to guess or settle for less I want something real that I don’t have to question. When you see my soul, You’ll see me whole S. Ambrose, 2022

Restored Art S. Ambrose Inside me, there’s a blaze that paints with a flame, Bright colors burst when you say my name. A fire wakes the silence of my soul, And turns broken pieces whole. Restoration moves where dust no longer stays, Stitching my heart with threads of new displays. No longer trapped in storage or under dust I rise and  reclaim all my pieces broken by trust. No shelf  can contain art meant to live  free I’m a masterpiece restored for all to see A portrait of resilience redefined. I’m living art with strength in every line.

Nostalgia Homesick, I peek through fields of fireflies, Before fireworks light up twilight skies. Childhood memories ache to feel, Love, consistent and  real. Autumn’s leaves make me miss you so, While winter’s candles softly glow. Springtime hope fights through the frost, Blooming from what winter lost. In every season where I roam, I miss  deeply what once felt like home. Shelly Ambrose  Nostalgia Feelings