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Thankfulness
Look back in thankfulness
and you'll admit
life wasn't to bad after all
You've had your troubles
like everyone else;
But, honestly, if you recall
the joy and the sorrow,
the good and the bad
and weight it all up in you mind,
You, if you are truthful
will have to confess
the time was not wholly unkind
Look back in thankfulness
and you will say
that there was more pleasure than pain
more blessings than crosses
look back and you'll see
that there was more sunshine than rain
Patience Strong
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The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a
yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as
just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as far that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning
equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way lead on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this
with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost
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The Sandbox is Silent
The sandbox is silent, the playground is
empty
where you played with me as a child
Where did you go?
I used to thank you,
for birthdays and babies
for all fluffy things, like kittens and dogs
for all slippery things, like soap in the bath
And for all wriggly, muddy,
blubbly things in the garden.
Live was a wide surprise,
a hundread tomorrows to trust and to love
as big as my birthday, and you were right there
as close as the colors, the sunshine the air.
Where did you go? God?
When I put away my childish things,
My building bricks,
my Jesus songs, my past?
The sandbox is silent now
and living is slow without you.
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The Weed
You have known the thrill of being needed
You have known the joy of being wanted
You have known the bliss of being loved
But I? I have not known any of these
for I am just a - weed.
Circa 1960
I am a weed
I am constantly uprooted and discarded
For I interfere with the plans of men.
But I survive and find the smallest spaces
In which to live and grow again
Because my source of life is eternal
and "weed" is just coined by man.
Circa 1996
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