Martha Stewart, eat your heart out,
Always
telling me about the simple,
Finer
things in life that make it
Just
a little more enjoyable,
A
little less deplorable and
Self-fulfilling
if my mind and
Hands
are willing to find the
Slightest
bit of creativity employable.
No
more waiting in the wings
To
be a players' understudy,
No
more watching QVC to
Order
someone else's craft,
I
am out to make my own,
Claim
my prize in a lover's game,
Striking
out like Tom and Huck to
Float
down stream on a hand-made raft.
What
bold adventure, this journey called love,
To
fly up to Heaven on gossamer wings.
Martha,
my dear, you can't build love by hand,
But
sometimes it truly is a good thing.
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