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Skipping Stones

There's a soldier's shadow
Where the world was torn
There's a beating heart
On the ocean floor
There are skipping stones
And faded jeans
There is glory, halleluiah
In a soldier's dreams

There's a soldier's widow
In a field of flowers
There's a painted picture
Sacrificed for towers
There are skipping stones
And wax pressed leaves
There is glory halleluiah
In a solder's dream

There's a soldier's daughter
With the soldier's son
Holding hands at the tombstone
In the setting sun
There are skipping stones
And handkerchiefs
There is glory, halleluiah
In a soldier's dream

There's a soldier's shadow
Where a child stood brave
It's an endless battle
But the game's still played
There are skipping stones
And mysteries
There is glory, halleluiah
In a soldier's dream

There's a soldier's shadow
On the ocean floor
One by one they walk past us
Still we throw one more
There are skipping stones
On broken seas
There is glory, halleluiah
In a soldier's dream

There's a soldier's shadow
In a dead man's war
We remain unchanged
And we throw twelve more
We are skipping stones
So naturally
There is glory, halleluiah
In a soldier's dream

written by theresa halfacre
November 26, 2006, 12:22 a.m.










Hey Carole, Who Needs Kung Fu? Becky?

Monkey Magic

I think I'll have wine with a monkey
Get a little drunk
Then I'll feel a little funky
And a little drunk

Have you ever noticed how a monkey
Likes to pick his nose
I just think it's kind of funny
How he never blows

Who needs a dog for a pet
When you can have a monkey instead?
They can be toilet trained & bottle fed
Without a wire fence

Give me some of that monkey magic
I want to look cool
I'll swing in a human habitabit
Instead of a zoo

I may not be exotic
Or maybe I'm cruel
But you have to admit it
A monkey's kind of cool

Some people think monkeys
Can be a little mean
Well so can this honkey
If I don't tame the beast

I'm really not destructive
I'm just a little extreme
That's why I like to jump in
and out of reality

Some call me Curious George
'Cause I never want to live a life bored
I'd rather live with a monkey
And speak Chinese

Give me some of that monkey magic
I want to look cool
I'll swing in a human habitabit
Instead of a zoo

I think I'll have wine with a monkey
And get a little drunk
Then I'll have a banana
And swing from a rope

I can be just like Tarzan
A primate makes me a better man
I'll cuddle you and understand
Handle you with care

You don't need to experiment with me
I'm a cousin to the chimpanzee
I'm just as uncommon as monkey
Out of captivity

I think I'll have wine with a monkey
It's an animals right
To drink wine with a monkey
Instead of starting a fight

Yeah, I drank wine with a monkey
Gotta little of that monkey magic
Come aboard if you think you can handle
The swinginest human habitabit

Yeah, I'm living like a moneky
But at least I'm free

written by theresa smith halfacre august 2006




Peace ...

Final Wave

Hey, Jackson lets ride that last wave
The ocean’s as red as the season of change
It’s got a spirit for sure
And the water’s as pure
As the eye that stings through your veins

Salting the earth with the taste of your skin
Two feet of courage; the tide's rolling in
It takes rhythm to live
Let’s fly with the wind
And crash as the sea parts again

Let’s forget the cutting of strings
All the sorrow that war brings
Confuse demons for sleep
Feathered angels move deep
Beneath the storms thundering chin

Why do we have to wonder?
So many lives; out there under fire.
Can’t we all live in peace?
Join every hand of disease;
Hunger for the right way to die?

Hey Jackson, raise your hand for a final wave
The ocean’s as blue as the life you gave
You had a spirit for sure
And a heart just as pure
And your eye’s the calm in this hurricane.

From ocean to coast to land
Every wave makes a stand
Why can’t we be;
The calm in the sea?
We all have blood on our hands.

Written by theresa smith halfacre, August 6, 2006 3:27 a.m.




Like I Said, Loosely Based ...

A Family of Strangers

Once upon a time, I was a little girl
I dreamt of a family and a perfect world
I found my prince and married him
We worked five days and then slept in
We talked about our family;
We couldn’t want for more
Until one day opportunity came knocking
Yeah, it knocked down my door
And soon before I knew it
I didn’t know him anymore

Once upon a time, I had a mom and dad
They loved me in a way, only they could understand
I did my best to give back to them
As hard I tried, it seemed I failed again
So I stopped trying
And decided not to care
I took a job out of state from 9 to 5
I kissed them both and waved good-bye
Then before I knew it,
They both had died.

The strangers are my family now
That I no longer know
They seemed to want too much from me
So I just let them go
Now their words call hauntingly
From far beyond the grave
They lift their hands up lovingly
But, I’m to ashamed to say,
“I’m sorry, I went away.”

Once upon a time, my brothers were my friends
Played basketball in the driveway;
Rode our bikes ‘til 10 p.m.
Who would know that we’d grow old,
Become someone we didn’t know?
Best intentions sometimes fail
Birthday cards were never mailed
Now they’re far away from me
We don’t seem like a family
And the further we go
The further the memories fades

Once upon a time, I had a little girl
She grew up dreaming of a perfect world
Opportunities came knocking again
Work in the morning, home after ten
I set her aside with her dreams
A nanny to hold her and teach her things
I never knew how much I missed
‘Til her dream came true; she found a prince
Opportunities set her free
She grew up just like me

To my family I’m a stranger now
That they no longer know
I seemed to take so much from them
So, they just let me go
My words call to them hauntingly
From far above the graves
I lift my hands up lovingly
I’m not ashamed to say
“I’m sorry, I went away”

God, I miss my family now
They slipped away;
And I know how.

theresa smith halfacre august 2006





Drop Dead Gorgeous

She was sitting in a tavern
Three hundred miles from home
So far she had traveled
To get away from it all
Skeletons and broken bones
She’s better alone

Alone and away
Drop dead gorgeous

There in the tavern
She felt a little sting
Spinning on the juke box
Was a song they used to sing
She grabbed her purse
For whatever it was worth
Just walked away

Alone and away
Drop dead gorgeous

There’s a fragrance in freedom
Few of us know
It whispers to believers
And welcomes them home
Play hard and wild, sweet child
Before you go

Alone and away
Drop dead gorgeous

She was standing in the doorway
Her mind was a mile away
She never saw him coming
Three hundred miles away
Pulled the trigger; left nothing but a trace
Drop dead gorgeous went home
Wearing an angel’s face

Alone and away
Drop dead gorgeous

Feel the draft behind you
Listen to the wind
It isn’t always blowing
But it’s always talkin’
It hits home; wherever home is
You can’t out run it
You can only wish

Alone and away
Drop dead gorgeous

theresa smith halfacre 2006




I Find This Woman Amazing
Virginia, In the End

Is Virginia here among the chatter?
And if she is, do I even care?
Exquisite in the end, does it matter?
Some memories too often disappear.

Cultured intellectuals feared her
The darkest eyes are sometims clear
Following nightmares of the written word
And voices only she could hear

A testament of endurance and resistance
Became the incubation of her art
Complicating nights with composition
Desperate to keep two worlds apart

Penning souls, she put on paper
A portrait of the words she wrote
Caught between wars that would rape her
In the end she only left them a note

Virginia, there is laughter for the lonely
Lying in the veins of River Ouse
A thousand tears hold the future to you only
And unshackles what the rest of us lose

Virginia is here among the chatter
And, yes, it’s true that I care
Exquisite in the end, it doesn’t matter
Some memories too often reappear.

Your hair, like a lighthouse, courses time
Lost in one sentence you left behind
Sometimes cruel can be like sunshine
In the end it's dark and unkind.

Written by theresa smith halfacre
July 2006





For Tim and John -- I Miss You, Sometimes (But Not Often!)

Adoption

We were born in the same state
In three different years
Our parents drove hundreds of miles
To sign the dotted line
And form a cohesive family

Forty years later
We all live in a different state
I can’t help but shake my head
Somewhat amused, somewhat confused
That the very roads that led to our childhood
Keep us apart as adults.

Written by theresa smith halfacre, August 18, 2006 6:01 p.m





Home

Take me into the woods
Build a home for just us two
A fireplace made with stones
Comfortably, we’ll live alone

We had a dream
I dream it still
A little meadow
A little hill
A forgotten promise
On a windowsill

A little lace
A little trace
A forgotten tomorrow
A forgotten place
I miss you
And our home

Take me in to the woods
Build a campfire for just us two
Then place my heart on a stake
So it may burn for good

I had a dream
I dreamt alone
You set the foundation
Then let it grow
Tall like weeds
In our home.

Written by theresa smith halface 2006
2:04 a.m.




This is only one story; it is enough ...

What God Intended

Troops of soldiers pound their way
To my country you call the enemy
In the name of God you say
Is that what I am to you?

I’m a nine year old refugee
Insurgents killed my family
A word I barely knew before
You came to my country

Is that what you are teaching me?
Is that what God has planned for me?
Daddy’s dead and I don’t believe,
That’s what God intended

Bombs are blasting in the air
Walls collapsing everywhere
Mommy cries for Mashadani
A kid napping in Fallujah

Now you won’t let me speak
Waving guns; promoting peace
My blouse is torn and you kiss me
I’ve never been kissed before

Is that what you are teaching me?
Is that what God has planned for me?
Bodies lying in street and I don’t believe
That’s what God intended

Now, I don’t speak your language;
I love Jesus Christ and God
I believe in the Prophet Mohammed
It’s what I was taught

A gun made of plastic is my hand
You gave it to me to help me understand
Why I'm crying a hospital bed
Missing my daddy

Is that what you are teaching me?
Is that what God had planned for me?
Promoting peace with deadly deeds
Is that what God intended?

Is this what God is teaching us?
Is this what God has planned for us?
With every bullet we spill his blood
Is this what God intended?

Written by theresa smith halfacre, June 21, 2006 12:34 a.m.




This Will Always Be a Favorite

Bittersweet

Bittersweet, I remember
Long ago you gave a spirited fight.
Now the days surrender to the memory,
Of another time lost in soldier’s sky.

What’s it take for darkness not to haunt you?
Where will your dreams go if they die?
Let’s cry awhile,
Let the Sunday morning rapture,
Capture us in a Carolina sky.

Bittersweet, do you remember
The years that have simply past you by?
No one loves you like they use to.
You’ve aged like a fairytale from a lullaby.

Stay awhile; let memories surround you. What’s the harm?
They’ve already killed your mind.
Gingerbread with lemon sauce awaits you,
In a room with morning blend served at nine.

Bittersweet, do you remember
How we danced to bird songs and wind chimes?
What does it matter and who really cares
When you’re children are grown
And on their own?

You are mine and I am yours
I will always love you.
I’ll hold your hand and stroke your face; I’ll keep you safe.

Bittersweet, Bittersweet,
Oh how I fear tomorrow
As I begin to lose your mind.

And bouquets of yellow roses begin their rest.

Written by theresa smith halfacre 2001





Turned On

It’s 1 a.m. again
The only thing turned on is me
Lying in my bed alone
Thinking ‘bout memories

Memories make me laugh out loud
They make me cry a tear
Memories can do most anything
Except bring you back to me

I thought about writing you a letter
I thought about giving you a call
But, what would I say to you?
Seems we’ve said it all

I’ve changed everything about me
I’ve changed the color of my hair
I stopped looking in the mirror
Most days I never care

I’ve got three bruises
I’ve got three old dirty shirts
I’ve got an assload of dresses
I’ve got new shoes for work

Memories make me laugh out loud
They make me cry a tear
Memories can do most anything
Except bring you back to me.

I thought about writing you a letter
I thought about giving you a call
I have so much to tell you
Or have we said it all?

Did you hear about David?
Did you hear about DC?
Did you hear that Jessica,
Got a job with NBC?

It’s one a.m. again
The only thing turned on is the tv
Lying in my bed alone
Thinking how you turned on me.

Written by theresa smith halfacre, 1:10 a.m.




One Upon A Time ... ;)
Click picture to ZOOM

GOOD GIRL

I am the good girl
The one who is always fair
The one who stands up for the voiceless
I’m a faceless name in a crowd
But every body knows me somehow
Will they ever, will they ever go away?
You know I can’t be everything they say
So I fall down on my knees
Please give me a moment or two
I’m not your angel
I’m not your sweet little victory doll
I die inside myself all night long
And you never really know
How much I wish, I really wish I wasn’t

I’m a good girl
I never drink and drive
I go to church, I pray, I work, I try
I am simple
But there’s so many me’s inside
I don’t know which is me or who am I
And when I sleep
I walk the landslide of my life
Oh, keep breathing
Keep the fight going on all day
Is it only in mind?
Will I ever find the peace that never rests at night?

I am the good girl
I’m the pretty face in the crowd
She knows her stuff, she’s loveable, and she’s kind
She’s a loser
And she’s never there on time
And when she is she’s always disappointing
Who’s the brother,
That one who's on her mind
The one who broke this trusting heart of mine?
He says she’s worthless
And she’s an angel.
With a demon deep inside.
She’s Corinthians
Uncle Screwtape give us a sigh
For the good girl.
Who’s the good girl?

God, I won’t pray for you to take this pain away
I only want to know who made me this way?
And why.
Cause I’m a good girl.

Written by theresa smith halfacre, February 24, 2005, 10:51 p.m.




Click picture to ZOOM
Winters Reaping

As time slips by and dream sweep past
I lie in Winters Reaping
I dreamt I cried a thousand cries
No one heard my weeping
Oh take my hand my forgotten love
For I am weak with sorrow
I am the one who harbors in
The shallow ebb of mourning

I walk a path I do not know
I walk a path alone
I take on burdens near and far
But never heed their warnings
For I am tired with blackened eyes
And sleep is never near me
The winter seeps in all my wounds
Though never does it hear me

Passions lie in rocks and streams
I wander in the morn
I take a sip of wine and drink
The blood of the Lord
“Come follow me,” he says to me
But I am weak and broken
I seek not truth nor trust the look
Not even when I am weeping

I bow my head I pray to thee
I walk to the human edge
I look down deep for castle rocks
And to the Winter I pledge
I pledge my life to mysteries
I pledge my life to dreams
I pledge my ruined life to thee
I pledge eternally

In silence someone speaks to me
And dreams, they come alive
Sweet Jesus you came back to me
You never left my side
You prayed for me
You stayed for me
You walked with the weary trodden
On Calvary you whispered to me
“I’ll meet you in Winters Reaping”

Oh darling love, oh darling love,
My life on earth in not over
Though I am sad, I touch the land
In reverie of clover
I don’t know where we go from here
I only know it’s together.

Written by Theresa Smith Halfacre





If I could go back to our wedding day
From my entrance as a bride
You, the groom at my side
I’d stare in your eyes and say
That forever doesn’t mean
Isolation from a dream
I’d remove the word obey
And replace it with the vow to pray

If I could go back to our wedding day
From the flowers and the guests
To my simple wedding dress
I’d listen closer when you’d say
“We may not have a lot,
I’ll give you what I’ve got.
One thing we’ll always share is our name.”
Oh God, that doesn’t lessen the pain

If I could go back to our wedding day
From the alter to the wish
The “I do,” and then the kiss
I’d hold to your hand and say
“Today I have my health,
Tomorrow I’ll need your help.
Will you put down your pride for my pain?
Or turn your back and walk away?”

If I could go back to our wedding day
From the pictures to the cake
To the rings that bared our names
I’d cry a tear and say,
“The best day of my life
Is when God made me your wife.
If I ever think I’m better off walking away,
Tell me why it is I should stay.”

If I could go back to our wedding night
To the carriage and the sea
To the bed that knew our dreams
I’d blot every tear from your eyes
I’d wipe away each mistake
The effort I didn’t make
Until death do we part I would die
If only we had given "us" time

If I could go back to our wedding day
It would be you and me and God
Not the papers with me now
The promises we both made
Are what brings us here today;
The alter only takes
Our words for one day
Leaving us to find our way
To love, honor and obey

theresa smith halfacre 2006





Who’s the keeper of the world?
The voice for the unheard;
Is he dead, did he fall away beleaguered?
Can he see the killing down below?
If so, where did he go?
Has the devil become our promise keeper?

God, this silence in the night
Voices filled with fright
Children everywhere; lost and broken
God , this battle in the air
Mother Nature do you dare
Turn on your one and only father?

Who abandoned the Amish girls that died?
Was Jesus Christ by their side?
A single file of corpses all victorious
In the name of religion we kill
Judge the Islam and the Jews
In triumph we stand devoted to our failure

God, does compassion exist
In prayers clenched with fists
The old, decrepit and the dying
God, the blood that’s in our veins
Is it synthetic in your name
Are we united, pathetic or disloyal

There are crusaders everywhere
Preaching, how do they dare;
Pave a path of phantom glory?
Transparent like their words
They utter nothing, but it’s all heard
Reverence is marred in lost salvation

God, did the prophet walk away
From three thousand hidden graves
Do we ignore survivors; build concrete memorials
God help these thoughts and my words
Satan, you’re creation’s world
Brilliantly, you execute your people.

theresa smith halfacre November 2006





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