The Poet's Desk Page 83 By Southbreeze




The Poet's Desk Authors Sharing the Love Of Poetry
 

Page 83

 



Grandpa

He walked the earth before me;
He was a mighty man.
The memory of his love and power
Still echo in the land.
With faith that never wavered,
He did the work of God;
And tho' I didn't know him well,
I knew the path he trod.
No one had to tell me
The times he knelt and cried.
No one had to tell me
For his friends he would have died.
No one had to tell me
The strangers he'd embraced.
No one had to tell me,
It was written on his face.
I knew this man would work and scrape
Because the times were bad,
But if there was one who needed help
He'd give them all he had.
And when he cried before the Lord
The foundations of Hell would shake.
Satan fled; the Lord heard his prayers
And guarded each step he'd take.
The Lord loved this special man,
I knew He planned it right
Because He came and took Grandpa
One late Thanksgiving night.
And if you'd never know him,
And if you'd seen him when he died,
You like me would have loved him,
And you also would have cried.

©David Donehoo
All rights reserved

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The Little Boy Doll

The little boy doll sat on a store shelf,
Christmas was over and he had been left;
Many doll friends now adopted were gone
Chosen to go to a loving home.

He sat unmoving, wanting to cry.
Unable to know why he was passed by;
If only he could see a sunny smile,
And feel the arms of a happy child.

Then came the sound of the bell at the door,
A mother and child walked into the store;
The child walked forward and came quite near
To the little boy doll. She exclaimed, ''How dear!

Mother, this doll is the best we can find.
Please, oh please, let him be mine!'
'So, the little boy doll was spirited away
To live with a child mother on her happy birthday.

Dedicated to little girls everywhere.

By Frances Donehoo Presson
All rights reserved

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Your Memory Never Fades

How well I know you're gone from my life,
And Oh I wonder how you are,
You're never from my heart that's weeping,
Your memory never fades far.

How I still long to see us as one,
And visualize us joined anew,
Can you imagine the love I feel,
Gone from my life but still in view.

Sometimes I see you holding me close,
And pray you never leave my heart,
How it yearns with my sweet love for you,
Why did you leave, tear us apart.

All these feelings are overwhelming,
There isnít a day that goes by,
Can you conceive of my fantasy,
How Iíve waited and now I cry.

You may be gone from my life always,
But your memory never fades,
For in my world of illusion I,
Turn away from all that dissuades.

So you see my love you may be gone,
From my life but in heart and mind,
One day you and I'll be one I know,
And Yes each other we will find.

©Sondra McPherson
August 29, 2004

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Kindness Counts

The best portion of a good mans life
Is his precious children and a wonderful wife
His hard work and prevision up and above
Many acts of kindness brought forth by love.

You cannot do a kindness that is too soon
Like a flower unfolding with a beautiful bloom
The purpose of a human life is to serve
And to show compassion without preserve.

Help you brother's boat across
Time spent helping other is never a loss.
Someday your own may be in dire need
And your brother be willing to help you indeed.

Little kindness are many, little faults are few
What you do for others will come home to you
Kind words for all will easily unfurl
For the love in your voice is the music of the world.

The purpose of human life is to preserve
And show compassion to those that deserve
Be kind to your fellow man each one that you meet
As the hate and greed in this world we defeat.

©Ginny Bryant

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Loveís Forgotten Seed

The ivy climbed the gray stonewall,
Attaching itself in every crevice found,
Faithful throughout numerous years,
Wrapping exterior imperfections Ďround.

The inside had no decorative vines,
To cover and hide its cracks,
Small clefts breaking into crevasses,
Vast in nature from loveís lack.

A happy home in times gone past,
Here childrenís laughter often rang aloud,
Where borders lined bright painted walls,
Yet unkempt ivy is its only shroud.

The love within slowly faded,
Yet no one appeared to take heed,
Inside the walls, hearts wilted,
From failure to nourish the seed.

©Gayle Davis
October 23, 2003

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Old Barn

Bleached by summer sunshine,
Bearing bitter winter storms,
Stands an old, decrepit barn;
Straining to keep her form.

Secrets of her past,
Unfold before my eyes,
As visions of her history,
Draw from me a sigh.

I ponder of the likeness,
Of this body, and the barn.
Each weathered just a bit,
From life lived on the farm.

The sun has tanned this flesh.
My eyes have somewhat dimmed.
On my lap, I still hold children,
With these slight, unsteady limbs.

When this frame has fallen,
Iíll leave it all behind,
In hopes that a few treasures,
Someone else will surely find.

” 2004 Marie Williams

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A Winter's Song


I know it's in God's scheme of things so please don't take me wrong,for everyday that comes my way,I cherish all day long. Even if it's wintertime, deep down I feel rejoice;
and dearest God has given nod so I can make a choice.

But, for me to chooze 'twix hot or cold,it won't take long for that; for winter squalls; and indoor walls, confine me where I'm at....within my lonely cabin here, I'm ''blue'' with anxious wait; and like a bear cooped in a lair, I'm bound to hibernate. I dread the long, hard winter months;
unrest has taken toll. I sit and pine for summer time
to thaw my frozen soul! The snow outside has risen high
and banked up to the sill; I'm hunkered in my TV den,
with only time to fill. I gaze out to the dark gray skies,
and think of summers old; then the Ground Hog came, his shadow claims six more weeks of cold!

Well, I've weathered storms of wind-blown cold;
but sure as the rising sun, and sure as night with stars of bright...the warm springtime will come...
to embrace all of nature's call, the fragrance of the grass; the joy that thrives when spring arrives,
with cold days gone at last!
So Spring has come and life has sprung, and beauty fills the skies...with bumble bees, and budding leaves,
and pretty butterflies.
And purple martins on the soar, The humming birds in flight;
The mocking bird, whose song is heard, makes everything seem right! Just breathe aroma from the vines from nature's sweet perfumes; makes my heart sing: ''How Great The King,''
Creater of all blooms. So now to get my walking shoes,
my thoughts all go outdoor;I cannot wait to celebrate
the springtime I adore.
So now I bask in huge content while treading nature's trail,
an inner voice with much rejoice, is singing: ''ALL IS WELL!''

©William E. Hardison
Copyrights Recorded 

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There's a Reason

I was always taught, there's a reason
That people do the things they do,
Though you may not always like them.
Their heart hides a secret from you.
If they're quick to bite your head off
Or constantly brag and boast,
Remember, the people we like the least
May need our love the most.

Could it be they had been abused
Or even ridiculed all their lives?
These are the type of hurtful things
That make sure their heart survives.

But, the heart that survives is hardened
And, on the seas of life, they coast.
Remember, the people we like the least
May need our love the most.

© 2003 by Claytia Doran

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MIDI
Performed by 
Margi Harrell
Please feel free to visit her wonderful site right HERE.
This midi along with more wonderful compositions and/or performances are available at Ms. Harrell's site on CDs. If you wish to use her music on your personal web site you must contact Ms. Harrell.  

©October 4, 2004

 

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