Two years, my love have passed  by us
And they were filled with first-   attraction;
Bitter-sweet and all that fuss
Of loving and longing and little  action.

This anniversary coming up now
Holds me close to the past
Of your gentle, sweet love–and  how
You held me, taught me, to hold  and last.

If by some chance my hillbilly king
You remember the way we  became
And how I learned to love

The sound of your name.
Just a year ago I chanced to see
What life could be outside the  walls of ME
And learned, like you,  it’s   wide!

Now, putting all that past away-
Could we be friends or more again,
And learn to love and laugh all  day;
Or would it fail and bring us pain?

My hillbilly, my love, my friend,
I cannot forget the good we had
I cannot see our closeness end
Or ever see our friendship bad.

So knowing this come away:
Away and begin a new tomorrow.
We’ll laugh and dance and sing all day,
And live without the sorrow.

Yes, I admit I need you
More than you need me–
But what is wrong with us two
Tying me up–and you be free?

– Lois Fowler (Barrett), 1977

Dear God, I cannot sleep.
With much tribulation in my soul,
(That you promised to always  keep)
Yet send your goodness to make me whole.

Weary, sleepless, I face each day
In a daze, not knowing where to turn,
Yet you seem to always have a way
For me to make it as I live and learn.

I see always wrong I did in life,
With no answer yet in sight.
How can I ever be a wife
When I haven’t done it right?

I fear for the man who marries me—
That he might regret that sad mistake.
I trust in you to not let it be
As I lie alone and wide awake.

No one is ever alone, it reads
In the Holy Word, I keep inside.
Yet—Spirit that fills my  needs—
Could it be my soul is being tried?

Into each life the rain must fall,
It tells me in the Holy Word,
But God, I cannot take it all
Unless you stand by me, dear Lord.

Lift up my body, that unsleeping form,
And hold it ever close to Thee,
To keep me ever safe from harm,
But if you cannot, then let it be.
—Lois Barrett ‘91

Oh God, I heard his voice again  today
And the thrill I felt was a sight  to behold
As I rushed to let my best friend  know,
But the look on my face—she’d  been “told.”

Thank God for mercy gentle and sweet
Is all I can find to say just now,
As I wait patiently  for his  call,
Because the relief I feel unfurrowed my brow.

Silently, quickly he stole my
heart;
But never can know—I cannot  say
How much he played a part
In making my life a brighter day.
Once again I reach for his gentle  heart
And push impatience aside as I   await
His call, this gentle friend of  mine,
To ask me for a second, happy  date.

Oh God, forgive me for what I   have done,
And lead me back to the narrow  and straight.
Because in thy will I would   have already won
The best you had, and not have to wait.
—Lois Fowler ‘91

Tall, proud, white-haired and steely-eyed,
He stood waiting and I recognized
That he was the one I was meeting,
So I nervously smiled a ‘first greetin.’
Glasses dignified the handsome face
As he waited, I slowly took a  place
Beside him, and he knew, sure  knew;
“This is the woman I’ve written    to.”

Wonder filled my mind as I  thought:
“Will he like the clothes I  bought?”
Nervous laughter and inanities   poured forth
From the lips of this woman
from the north.

As the evening wore on I felt  worse,
And mistook his silence for  being terse.
It’s over, I thought as I opened  the door
Of his nice, Ford truck, but—  more?

“I’d like to see you again,” he quietly said,
Just when I thought the whole thing dead.
“You would?” I gulped in great  surprise,
And turned to look again at those eyes.

Dear God in heaven, does he really approve?
“Would you like me to call,  when I move?”
Was all I could think to talk  about,
And he answered “Yes,” so I stepped on out.

Gentleman that he was, he “saw  me” to my abode
By following me to the turnoff  of the road.

No great thing—a critic might  say,
But it was late, and such a long  way.

Then out of “pride” we could  call it that,
I wrote dumb letters to combat
Any thought I might have in desperation,
That widows and dates have no relations.

Oh, silent handsome man of the  south:
Did I lose it all with my Yankee  mouth?
Now I wait hopefully by the  phone each day,
Just hoping he will once again say:
“I’d like to see you again.”
—Lois Barrett ‘91

FRIEND

Sterling character, full of grace,
A Ray of sunshine, smiling face.
Good thoughts of him invade my mind
As I know friendship, gentle, kind;
One who asks nothing in compensation
For precious time in conversation.

No passion-battles to darken  talks;
No touching hands to ruin our  walks;
No thoughts of sin to turn my  head;
No secret whispers of things  long dead;
No expectation now of “recompense”;
No breach of faith and common sense.

Forever grateful, I stay the  ground:
Friendship like this is ever bound
God-blessed, pure, for time   eternal.
Sterling character and smiling   face—
This Ray of sunshine, full of grace.
—Lois Barrett ‘91

The swirling night we became  as one
Fills my life in twirling, flooding bliss,
My love—who fulfills all my dreams
Of oneness with a butterfly kiss.

I take thee to be my wedded  husband,
To have, to hold, to cherish ‘til death.
In sickness, health, richer or  poorer
As we live  the wonder of God.

Thy people shall become my people
As your God is also my God.
Your land shall become my land
And we are bound as one  forever.

If we fail each other in any way,
As we meet each threat so dire
Against our happiness and love,
May God correct us with joy and peace.
—Lois Barrett ‘91

BROKEN  PROMISE

Not much in diamonds, silver or gold
Does this love of mine have or hold,
Yet if sweetness is measured
In riches, and trust treasured
Beyond what riches can buy,
Then I have all, and that is why
I’ll love cherish, in sickness and  health,
This man above earth’s great treasured wealth.

I’ll take the love he offers me
To the bank of life, and let it be
Riches beyond my just desserts
To hover and protect me from all hurts
Of life, to dream, fulfill and give
Back to him a love that will live.
He little knew what he found in me,
And I could have warned him of yet-to-be,
But he placed those conditions on his giving;
After offering his heart to help my living.
Gave he happiness as best he could.
I promised more than ever I  should.
His jealousy reared its ugly head
And my new found love was all but dead.

Past remembrances flood as agonized mind
Of a love brought down, and now I find
I cannot bear this love once found
To be all it promised and now I’m bound
To end it all for sanity’s sake—
And—promised love? It’s not his to “take.”
—Lois Barrett ‘91

ANOTHER CHANCE

God grant me another chance
To be with someone I admire.
All I had to do was take a stance
“Gainst Satan’s regal attire.

I pray I’ll be good for “him”
And not hurt him in any way,
So if his future with me is dim,
Dear God, don’t let me stay.

He’s one in a million men,
With his quiet, gentle ways’
A man to not cause me sin,
And be happy all my days.

If we were one, I would be true
To his love, no matter the cost,
Because I already paid my due, And God gave back what I lost.

His ways are sincere, warm, and sweet
As he talks softly of better life–
I lay my blanket at his feet
To be an obedient, serving wife.
— Lois Barrett ‘91

LOVE’S DREAMS

Pen glides over paper as I sit  and write
Words of despair and growth of love’s doom tonight;
And I listen, listen to nothingness in this room,
To realize the bell tolls on a lost love’s doom.

I was crazy in love with you before,
Yet I feel less and less need, not more
For your arms, kisses light as a feather
That I felt before we had been together.

Sleepless nights tell me some- thing’s wrong now,
And we might never, ever belong now.
Where did the excitement and thrills fly away to?
After we were together I’m so  lost, are you?

Tell me something—show me again why we care,
‘Cause at this time of night I do not dare
To look beyond the first passion we felt
So strongly we thought it would never melt.

“Try again,” I said and re-read your letters,
But nothing came through to untie these fetters
Of numbing doubt, fear and concern
That all the passions of yesterday no longer burn.

— Lois Barrett ‘91

Little things draw one into abuse –
Memories of good times, so obtuse
Each and every detail – black or white;
Simple belief:  whose fault – the fight.

Trivial the question of whether to fear
The slap so sudden or a dripping tear;
A wrong look, a silent reflection:
How, again, she caused rejection?

Then the reminder of who knows best,
And who decides if she passed the test.
Each day spent humbly with an Ego Shell:
Cringing, waiting to feel and know hell.
Just being alone, nowhere to turn.
Unless I’m there; can I really learn
The fear of facing after-shock
Of his earthquake fist: one knock?

Is it all for naught, the heart cries out?
She reaches forward, and about,
Trying to appeal to a loving heart.
She’s done her best: she’s done her part.

She vows right then: this will be the last,
Just as always  in the past.
Then he comes wearing elocution,
Seeking and finding absolution –

Filling her softly with his song.
His smile makes her long
To be held tight for a while;
Basking in his promising smile.

It could last – he’ll surely try,
He’ll repent: she won’t have to die
Secretly closeted in fear of his rages –
All the time knowing, it could be ages.

—- Lois Fowler Barrett © 2005