Ella sings it all

"Reach for tomorrow, today belongs to the past. The golden hopes of your yesterdays can all be yours at last...reach for tomorrow and keep your head in the sky...you may get hurt a thousand ways....but give it one more try ...

no regrets about the chances you missed...keep your dreams ever new, no matter how many times it seems that dreams are not for you...reach for tomorrow and make them all come true..." So to the heart sweet Ella.

Dreams are simple for me; touch, tenderness, true connection...I don't ask for much more than that. Yet, I am stunned some nights by just how much I miss human touch from a sweet man and isome ntelligent company that is honest in its' expectations.

Been thinking a lot about loneliness and longing lately...I can accept and understand any rejection based on sexual attraction, odd huh?, I'm not your type? I get that...not hard to accept....It's the me, the true self shared, and rejected that is so frightening. It's the rejection of what I AM intrinsically that frightens me...

What if what I am is not enough...

What if all I get in life is friendship from this point on...will it be enough? That is a good and lucky life...one filled with true friends. Having said that, I also know what I am missing.

Is it enough to know that at least once, someone DID love the "pilgrim soul" in me? Guess I'll have to find out. Hope there is more of that in my future.

Dreams, sing them Ella, my dreams...to believe that someone, someday, somewhere, will SEE me,

So, I say fuck yes, I will dare to dream that someone will ultimately appreciate my sexy self, my disinct and often bawdy humor, my sassy political mouth and my eclectic brain which operates at 1000mph. I will find someone who sees all of that, loves it and will be worth writing poetry for...and maybe, depending on what happens, I will write them some very clever, dirty Irish limmericks...

So, I, Mary, outspoken, political, potty-mouthed neighborhood offee lady, hilarious ( to me)" cougar" icon for so many sexy outspoken young men who tell me to my face they want to sleep with me, yet, ironically do not interest me, will dare to dream but by my own quirky catholic no quick one-nighter rules and standards, but I will dream none the less...