Sylvie Pacey
New member
Love it Margaret, so clever. Sylvie
The Poem thread
- Thread starter Contratrombone64
- Start date
marval
New member
Here is a halloween poem.
Let the Children Be
by Judith A. Lindberg
.
'Twas Halloween night and all through the sky,
The clouds hid the moon as the bats glided by.
I was dressed all in white in my mama's old sheet,
Walking with friends down the ghost-haunted street.
.
All the kids were dressed in bright costumed array,
While flashlights and street lights guided our way.
We giggled and laughed as we hurried to each door,
Ringing or knocking, then laughing some more.
.
There were pumpkins aglow and skeletons dangling,
Scarecrows and shadows and silver chains clanging.
Grownups in masked faces opened doors in greeting,
As we stood with our bags and waited for treating.
.
Some people say that we should not have this night,
That too many kids are harmed by the sights or the fright -
But it's the one time a year when we can pretend to be
Someone else for a while, not you - not even me.
-
Let them celebrate now, as the bats glide on by,
For childhood is brief, like the blink of an eye.
Listen to their laughter and let the children be
Someone else for a while, not you and not even me.
'Twas Halloween night and all through the sky,
The clouds hid the moon as the bats glided by.
I was dressed all in white in my mama's old sheet,
Walking with friends down the ghost-haunted street.
.
All the kids were dressed in bright costumed array,
While flashlights and street lights guided our way.
We giggled and laughed as we hurried to each door,
Ringing or knocking, then laughing some more.
.
There were pumpkins aglow and skeletons dangling,
Scarecrows and shadows and silver chains clanging.
Grownups in masked faces opened doors in greeting,
As we stood with our bags and waited for treating.
.
Some people say that we should not have this night,
That too many kids are harmed by the sights or the fright -
But it's the one time a year when we can pretend to be
Someone else for a while, not you - not even me.
-
Let them celebrate now, as the bats glide on by,
For childhood is brief, like the blink of an eye.
Listen to their laughter and let the children be
Someone else for a while, not you and not even me.
Sylvie Pacey
New member
Margaret, how true, children have to grow up so fast these days, even babies look like little people half the time. Childhood is so special, like the Rubaiyat says 'Once departed may return no more'
Have you read that lovely work by Omar Khayaam. I especially like the translation by Edward Fitzgerald, so many truths hidden in the verses. Sylvie
Have you read that lovely work by Omar Khayaam. I especially like the translation by Edward Fitzgerald, so many truths hidden in the verses. Sylvie
Sylvie Pacey
New member
A child's verse
A young friend called on me today in floods of tears. She had just heard that a dear friend of hers had sadly died. He was only 9 years old and suffered from cerebral palsy, a really darling boy. After consoling her as best I could we listened to a lovely song about losing a child and then she wrote this poem, which I think is lovely and shows such depths of love and compassion from a fifteen year old girl.
Our Rob in Heaven
Tiny angel rest your wings
Sit with me for a while
How I long to kiss your lips
And see your precious smile.
Tiny angel, look at me,
I want this image clear,
That I will forget your precious smile
Is my biggest fear.
Tiny angel looked at me
There's something I need to know.
You weren't here for very long,
Why did you have to go?
Tiny angel responded fast
These things I do not know.
But I do know that you loved me
And that I love you so!
R.I.P Rob baby from your friend Bekki Thomas
I do hope that those of you who read this will post a message for Bekki here. She will be able to read them when she visits me again. Sylvie
A young friend called on me today in floods of tears. She had just heard that a dear friend of hers had sadly died. He was only 9 years old and suffered from cerebral palsy, a really darling boy. After consoling her as best I could we listened to a lovely song about losing a child and then she wrote this poem, which I think is lovely and shows such depths of love and compassion from a fifteen year old girl.
Our Rob in Heaven
Tiny angel rest your wings
Sit with me for a while
How I long to kiss your lips
And see your precious smile.
Tiny angel, look at me,
I want this image clear,
That I will forget your precious smile
Is my biggest fear.
Tiny angel looked at me
There's something I need to know.
You weren't here for very long,
Why did you have to go?
Tiny angel responded fast
These things I do not know.
But I do know that you loved me
And that I love you so!
R.I.P Rob baby from your friend Bekki Thomas
I do hope that those of you who read this will post a message for Bekki here. She will be able to read them when she visits me again. Sylvie
marval
New member
Hello Sylvie,
Thank you for sharing that.
It is always very sad to lose a friend especially one so young.
I hope that Bekki is able to carry on, knowing how lucky she was to have known him. I loved the poem, it was good of her to be able to put her feelings in writing so beautifully. I hope it helped her in the grieving process, I wish her the best.
Margaret
Thank you for sharing that.
It is always very sad to lose a friend especially one so young.
I hope that Bekki is able to carry on, knowing how lucky she was to have known him. I loved the poem, it was good of her to be able to put her feelings in writing so beautifully. I hope it helped her in the grieving process, I wish her the best.
Margaret
marval
New member
Here's a poem for Remembrance Day
"Please wear a poppy," the lady said
And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old and lined with care;
But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade.
A boy came whistling down the street,
Bouncing along on care-free feet.
His smile was full of joy and fun,
"Lady," said he, "may I have one?"
When she's pinned in on he turned to say,
"Why do we wear a poppy today?"
The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered, "This is Remembrance Day,
And the poppy there is the symbol for
The gallant men who died in war.
And because they did, you and I are free -
That's why we wear a poppy, you see.
"I had a boy about your size,
With golden hair and big blue eyes.
He loved to play and jump and shout,
Free as a bird he would race about.
As the years went by he learned and grew
and became a man - as you will, too.
"He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
But he'd seemed with us such a little while
When war broke out and he went away.
I still remember his face that day
When he smiled at me and said, Goodbye,
I'll be back soon, Mom, so please don't cry.
"But the war went on and he had to stay,
And all I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight,
(I can see it still in my dreams at night),
With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.
"Till at last, at last, the war was won -
And that's why we wear a poppy son."
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said, "Thanks, lady, I'm glad to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight,
But your son - did he come back all right?"
A tear rolled down each faded check;
She shook her head, but didn't speak.
I slunk away in a sort of shame,
And if you were me you'd have done the same;
For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,
Thought our freedom was bought - and thousands paid!
And so when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne,
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country's call
That we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy! Remember - and give!
Don Crawford.
"Please wear a poppy," the lady said
And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old and lined with care;
But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade.
A boy came whistling down the street,
Bouncing along on care-free feet.
His smile was full of joy and fun,
"Lady," said he, "may I have one?"
When she's pinned in on he turned to say,
"Why do we wear a poppy today?"
The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered, "This is Remembrance Day,
And the poppy there is the symbol for
The gallant men who died in war.
And because they did, you and I are free -
That's why we wear a poppy, you see.
"I had a boy about your size,
With golden hair and big blue eyes.
He loved to play and jump and shout,
Free as a bird he would race about.
As the years went by he learned and grew
and became a man - as you will, too.
"He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
But he'd seemed with us such a little while
When war broke out and he went away.
I still remember his face that day
When he smiled at me and said, Goodbye,
I'll be back soon, Mom, so please don't cry.
"But the war went on and he had to stay,
And all I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight,
(I can see it still in my dreams at night),
With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.
"Till at last, at last, the war was won -
And that's why we wear a poppy son."
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said, "Thanks, lady, I'm glad to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight,
But your son - did he come back all right?"
A tear rolled down each faded check;
She shook her head, but didn't speak.
I slunk away in a sort of shame,
And if you were me you'd have done the same;
For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,
Thought our freedom was bought - and thousands paid!
And so when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne,
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country's call
That we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy! Remember - and give!
Don Crawford.
Tûrwethiel
New member
That was beautiful. Thank you, Marval.
Sylvie Pacey
New member
Thank you for sharing that with us Margaret, we need to be reminded of all the sacrifices made and to remember that there are other families who still mourn the loss of loved ones even though they may have been fighting for other countries, considered to be "The Enemy" I love the Hymn "Make me a Channel of your peace"
If only we could all sing that together and really mean it. Sylvie
If only we could all sing that together and really mean it. Sylvie
sunwaiter
New member
death is supposed to be a natural thing, but war is everything but natural. people who talk sh'(-'t about homosexuality, music you have or have not the right to play, classifying decent and indecent movies, teaching you good manners and formulas when they won't ever give a dime to a man on the street, well, those people are often the first to vote for war. then they become humans again when they realise they shouldn't have lost a brother, a sister, a wife because of war, because it's absurd.
sorry that teenager sounding note, but i do think what i write, and i'm afraid of war, because i never known any. i cross fingers so that i never will.
sorry that teenager sounding note, but i do think what i write, and i'm afraid of war, because i never known any. i cross fingers so that i never will.
marval
New member
Here is a poem for all cat lovers.
I don't know who wrote it.
When God created kitty cats,
He had no recipe;
He knew He wanted something sweet,
As sweet as sweet could be.
He started out with sugar,
Adding just a trace of spice;
Then stirred in drops of morning dew,
To keep them fresh and nice
He thought cats should be soft to pet,
Thus he gave them coats of fur;
So they could show they were content,
He taught them how to purr.
He made for them long tails to wave,
While strutting down the walk;
Then trained them in meow-ology,
So they could do cat-talk.
He made them into acrobats,
And gave them grace and poise;
Their wide-eyed curiosity,
He took from little boys.
He put whiskers on their faces,
Gave them tiny ears for caps;
Then shaped their little bodies,
To snugly fit on laps.
He gave them eyes as big as saucers,
To look into man's soul;
Then set a tolerance for mankind,
As their purpose and their goal.
Benevolent ... and ... Generous,
He made so many of them;
Then charged, with fatherly concern,
The human race to love them.
When one jumped up upon His lap,
God gently stroked its head;
The cat gave Him a kitty kiss,
"What wondrous love," God said.
God gently stroked its head; The cat gave Him a kitty kiss, What wondrous love," God said. God smiled at His accomplishment,
So pleased with His creation;
And said, with pride, as He sat back,
"At last. . .I've reached purr-fection!"
I don't know who wrote it.
When God created kitty cats,
He had no recipe;
He knew He wanted something sweet,
As sweet as sweet could be.
He started out with sugar,
Adding just a trace of spice;
Then stirred in drops of morning dew,
To keep them fresh and nice
He thought cats should be soft to pet,
Thus he gave them coats of fur;
So they could show they were content,
He taught them how to purr.
He made for them long tails to wave,
While strutting down the walk;
Then trained them in meow-ology,
So they could do cat-talk.
He made them into acrobats,
And gave them grace and poise;
Their wide-eyed curiosity,
He took from little boys.
He put whiskers on their faces,
Gave them tiny ears for caps;
Then shaped their little bodies,
To snugly fit on laps.
He gave them eyes as big as saucers,
To look into man's soul;
Then set a tolerance for mankind,
As their purpose and their goal.
Benevolent ... and ... Generous,
He made so many of them;
Then charged, with fatherly concern,
The human race to love them.
When one jumped up upon His lap,
God gently stroked its head;
The cat gave Him a kitty kiss,
"What wondrous love," God said.
God gently stroked its head; The cat gave Him a kitty kiss, What wondrous love," God said. God smiled at His accomplishment,
So pleased with His creation;
And said, with pride, as He sat back,
"At last. . .I've reached purr-fection!"
toto
New member
Hi marval looks like your author is Virginia (Ginny) Ellis and the poem was written in 1999.
(Watch out for the dodgy midi-ambience on her website!)
(Watch out for the dodgy midi-ambience on her website!)
Tûrwethiel
New member
How lovely, Marval. Thank you.
Here's some drivel I still remember from second class at primary school:
Cats sleep anywhere
Any table, any chair
On top of piano, window ledge
In the middle, on the edge
An open cupboard, empty shoe
Anybody's lap will do
And here, apparently, http://www.catquotes.com/catssleepanywhere.htm , is the real poem. Don't think I did too badly. After all it was a very long time ago!
Cheers
Vicki
Here's some drivel I still remember from second class at primary school:
Cats sleep anywhere
Any table, any chair
On top of piano, window ledge
In the middle, on the edge
An open cupboard, empty shoe
Anybody's lap will do
And here, apparently, http://www.catquotes.com/catssleepanywhere.htm , is the real poem. Don't think I did too badly. After all it was a very long time ago!
Cheers
Vicki