Perfection

"Perfection" by Heather B. 4/22/06

Look at me,
Tell me what you see
Am I everything;
I was ever meant to be?

Must I maintain an image,
To be viewed as perfect?
Or can I merely be me,
In a world whose perfection is worthless?

Called too fat,
Considered too thin,
Not popular enough,
To ever fit in.

Cant make me bend my back,
Or soften my spine to fit,
Any mold made by man,
Cuz I’m breaking out of it.

Too long I’ve held my breath,
When my lungs longed to scream,
After watching the picture perfect image,
It is a nightmare not a dream.

Touched up and airbrushed,
Nothing as it seems
Surrounded by images
From which artificial beauty gleams.

Hair do’s and nose jobs,
Make-up way over done,
Push up something here and snip something there,
Vainly trying to be the perfect one.

Exhausting and tiring,
To keep up with the trends,
Will the fruitless pursuit of perfection,
Ever reach an end?

Hollywood and paparazzi,
Displayed in Glamour magazines,
Can’t seem to escape,
This false reality.

Throw out those posters,
Rip those magazines,
The false message they portray,
To lower your self esteem.

Kick back and relax I will,
But not in Designer jeans,
You won’t catch me,
Getting caught in the mainstream.

Happy with who I am,
Is what I have resided to be,
Refusing to be driven by the wind,
Gladly, I will be me.

Earth Is Not My Home

Through my darkest hour,
It was You who held me near,
I was restored by Your power,
It was You who wiped my tears.

Through the shadow,
Through the pain,
I counted only loss,
Where You had given gain.

When I trembled in the dark,
It was You who held my hand,
Assured me everything would be fine,
For this was all in Your plan.

When day and night I cry,
And in my heart lies dread,
No one hears the sobs I weep,
Here upon my bed.

You're my only comfort,
You're my only hope,
When this world is passing by,
And it's allurement grows old.

Death is so final,
Whenever it rings it's toll,
The only for certain,
Is that Jesus saved my soul.

Life is but a vapor,
Here one day then gone,
Everyone will mourn,
Then all will move on.

I would rather die,
A thousand horrid deaths,
Then to lose sight of what You've done,
By dying for My debt.

For me time here is short,
As passing as the tide,
I would rather be in Heaven,
Strolling by my Father's side.

But for now I know,
Here is where I'm to be,
So I will take hold,
Of all life has to offer me.

But on that day,
When for me that toll rings,
Don't mourn but be glad,
For by my Father's side I'll be

Heather B.
June 17, 2005

The Princess...a poem, by me!

June 6th, 2004, by Heather B.
The Princess

I am a Princess, And every morning when I rise,
I see my Father standing near, A smile filling His eyes.

I have my Father's eyes, And that is not all, you see,
By spending time with my Father, He is transforming me.

My King, my Father, my Prince;The One whom I dearly love,
He who has known me since, He fashioned me from above.

Out of love and to protect me, Especially my tender heart,
With a whisper of His tender voice, My Prince called me apart.

I have asked Him why, And often how come,
He always has an answer, And never thinks my questions dumb.

Seeing my troubled face, My Prince bids me come and walk,
Quickly I follow Him, For with my Prince I can always talk.

I tell Him of my doubts, And all the frustration,
I say it's hard to wait, With my growing anticipation.

Gently He tells me, Without a hint of exasperation,
He says this is a time, Of maturity and preparation.

"It is preparation for the one I have for you,"
He continues, pointing down the road,
"When I bring your shining Knight to you,
My Precious Daughter, you will know."

"But, my Lord," I complain,
"It is so hard to wait.",
"I know, My Daughter," He replies,
"But my timings never early, nor is it late.

"But for now, My Daughter, In My Perfect Peace you can rest,
Knowing your future is in My hand, And your faithfulness will be Blessed.

As we walk together; My Daughter, you will grow,
And like a lily among thorns, One day into the world you'll go.

But know My Precious Daughter, You will never go alone,
I will be right by your side, Ready to lead you home."

After my Prince leaves me, I heave a great sigh,
Even with all my impatience, I know my Prince doesn't lie.

I ready for a celebration; With modesty, propriety, and beauty I dress,
For whom other than my Prince, Need I ever impress?

To a celebration we go; I, on my Gentle Prince's arm,
Reassured by His tender touch, I feel no fear of harm.

To the head banquet table, My Loving Prince leads,
After I am seated, To Him I turn and plead.

"My, Lord, I am unworthy, I should not sit at Your right."
He gently replies, "You are worthy, Especially on this night."

Calling for attention, My Prince stands to His feet,
Turning to me He says, "Your preparation is almost complete."

From somewhere behind Him, He brings a golden robe,
And placing it on my shoulders announces,
"This is My heir, who shall claim My throne."

Through all the attention, I kept my eyes focused down,
And upon my down turned head, My Prince placed my completed crown.

Blushing, I look up and see a face, One equally startled as mine,
Puzzled, I turn to my Prince, who says,
"Yes, My Lily-white Princess, now is the time."