Baby Without a Name
(aprox 1/3 of the entire poem)

I look like a whole person
If you look at my skin
But I'm hiding a secret
Deep within.
I have a big empty place
Inside my heart.
The enemy attacked there
And ripped me apart.
I had a little life,
All snuggled and warm,
Beginning to love and trust
With an incomplete form.
This baby was a part of me,
A gift from God to take care.
But I listened to the Liar
And got caught in his snare.

Copyright (c) 1996 by Nicolette Woltman

The Thief
(aprox. 1/3 of the entire poem)

Who is it that takes the love out of the hearts of the children I've
Who tampers with their innocent minds and leaves mine so amazed.
That steals the hope and faith that we once had, replaced by disbelief?
Who ravages, ruins, rips apart and destroys? Beware: it is the thief!
A teenager without a real friend. A child without a toy.
A father working over time. The price he pays is joy.
A Sunday spent, but not in church. A flower without a leaf.
A significant outing, forgotten and cancelled. It is the thief!

Copyright (c) 1997 by Nicolette Woltman

I Didn't Have A Dad
(aprox. 1/3 of the entire poem)

I guess I had a father,
But I didn't have a Dad.
I didn't get the nurturing
That other daughters had.
I didn't learn the things
That he should have taught.
So I really don't know how to get
The love I never got.
It hurt so bad
That he wasn't there,
The little girl in me
Pretended not to care.
I put my need for hugs and kisses
High up on a shelf.
That little girl said,
"I don't need a Dad,
I can take take care of myself."

Copyright (c) 1996 by Nicolette Woltman

Where Are You?
(aprox. 1/3 of the entire poem)

I sat upon a jagged rock
And threw pebbles into the waves.
I got my feet wet a little
As I went exploring in the caves.
I walked along the ocean
My barefeet in the sand.
I looked up at the sunset
And wanted to hold your hand.
Later I walked into a coffee shop,
Sat at a table meant for two.
I ate a pleasant dinner
And wondered where are you?

Copyright (c) 1996 by Nicolette Woltman

The Gift
(aprox. 1/3 of the entire poem)

Being invited to a party for Jesus,
I thought what an honor to be on His list.
Then I realized all my shortcomings,
Not knowing if His hand I should kiss.
I was just plain old me,
More frightened than the rest.
Every other person
Would be dressed up their very best.
I worried, what if my place at the table
Was right next to His.
If I should decline that worthy position
He just might insist.

Copyright (c) 1997 by Nicolette Woltman

Left Over People
(aprox. 1/3 of the entire poem)

Broken promises and empty dreams-
Nothing is as sure
Or quite as safe as it seems.
Lord, how do two people
Begin the journey to become one?
How much work and effort
Before they know the process is done?
How do two wounded souls
Ever learn to trust again?
Laugh again?
Love again?
In this cold world
To feel warm again?
To try to reach out
And gently touch?
Both afraid to risk.
Inside they want so much.
They notice a smile.
They see a glance.
Can they get up the nerve
To take a chance?

Copyright (c) 1996 Nicolette Woltman


Recycle Love
Where Are You
The Man I Love
I Didn't Have A Dad
Recycle Love
My Friend
That Emptiness
The Gardener

Left Over People
Live Today
Baby Without A Name
The Color Of Love
The Holding Pattern
Someone Else In Darkness
Just A Thought
What Others Think
Left Over People
Left Behind