Riddle Me This

To me you speak and from me you hear
voices traveling from far and near
You poke me and prod me, I don't complain
I'm not alive and so must abstain
Bought with gold, you pay to keep me live
-without me you could not survive
You come when I call, who's master now?
If only I could I would take a bow.

What am I?

Fireside Poem

Raise me to thy throne, Oh God
and let me see thy face
let me know thy love divine
and feel thy kind embrace

Help me heal my brother, God
to raise him from his pain
to bring to him thy love divine
and find solace in thy name

Help me speak kindly God
and treat all near me well
that our souls might fill with love
and we'll raise our children well

Oh dear mine hair doth grow a frightening mess.

It looks like blind men tried to fashion it.

I cannot mask it even with my dress.

Yanking and pulling, I'm now in a fit.

Alas it is for naught to work this day.

How I wish I could change this wretched hair.

Perhaps I'll cover it with a berret.

I want to pull it out, but do I dare?

I'll cut that which doth give me much pain.

The times I fret over my hair is past!

No time to think if I am insane.

At last I raise the blade and swipe it fast.

This boyish look doth please mine eye to play.

I art most beauteous this day!