The Poem thread

OLDUDE

New member
I used to attempt to write poetry as a youth.
One effort I recall was;

Dawn;
Golden sunrays,
Fill the sky with soundless glory,
And in my currant bush,
A blackbird sings.
 

marval

New member
There is magic all around us,
You can feel it in the air,
For the lovely signs of springtime
are unfolding everywhere.
It's a time of fulfilled promise,
It's a time of hope and cheer,
Joyful time of resurrection
Blessed Easter time.


I found this lovely Easter poem

So a very happy Easter to you all, I hope all those who have a busy time now, can find a few moments to enjoy this wonderful time.


Margaret
 

marval

New member
I wasn't sure where to put this, so here it is. I don't know who wrote it.


TO BE SIX AGAIN


I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult, in order to accept the responsibilities of a 6 year old. The tax base is lower. I want to be six again.

I want to go to McDonald's and think it's the best place in the world to eat. I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make waves with rocks.

I want to think Smarties are better than money, because you can eat them. I want to play kick-ball during breaks.

I long for the days when life was simple. When all you knew were your colours, the addition tables & simple nursery rhymes, but it didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care.

I want to go to school and have snack time, recess, gym and field trips.

I want to be happy, because I don't know what should make me upset. I want to think the world is fair and everyone in it is honest and good.

I want to believe that anything is possible.

Sometime,while I was maturing, I learned too much. I learned of nuclear weapons,prejudice, starving and abused kids, lies, unhappy marriages, illness, pain and mortality. I want to be six again.

I want to think that everyone, including myself, will live forever, because I don't know the concept of death. I want to be oblivious to the complications of life and be overly excited by the little things again.

I want television to be something I watch for fun, not something used for escape from the things I should be doing. I want to live knowing the little things that Ifind exciting will always make me as happy as when I first learned them. I want to be six again.

I remember not seeing the world as a whole, but rather being aware of only the things that directly concerned me. I want to be naive enough to think that if I'm happy, so is everyone else.

I want to walk down the beach and think only of the sand beneath my feet and the possibility of finding that blue piece of sea glass I'm looking for.

I want to spend my afternoons climbing trees & riding my bike, letting the grownups worry about time, the dentist and how to find the money to fix the old car.

I want to wonder what I'll do when I grow up and what I'll be, who I'll be and not worry about what I'll do if this doesn't work out. I want that time back.

I want to use it now as an escape, so that when my computer crashes, or I have a mountain of paperwork, or two depressed friends, or a fight with my spouse, or bittersweet memories of times gone by, or second thoughts about so many things..........

I can travel back and build a snowman, without thinking about anything except whether the snow sticks together and what I can possibly use for the snowman's mouth.

I want to be six again.
 

teddy

Duckmeister
THE FINAL INSPECTION

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

'Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you ?
Have you always turned the other cheek ?
To My Church have you been true?'

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
'No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgement of his God.

'Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell.'

Author Unknown~


With Remembrance day almost upon us I thought I would pass this on. Hope you enjoy it

teddy
 

marval

New member
A poem for everyone’s Grandpa


The computer swallowed grandpa.

Yes, honestly it’s true!

He pressed 'control and 'enter'

And disappeared from view.

It devoured him completely;

The thought just makes me squirm.

He must have caught a virus

Or been eaten by a worm.

I've searched through the recycle bin

And files of every kind;

I've even used the Internet,

But nothing did I find.

In desperation, I asked Jeeves

My searches to refine.

The reply from him was negative,

Not a thing was found 'online.'

So, if inside your 'Inbox,'

My Grandpa you should see,

Please 'Copy, Scan' and 'Paste' him

And send him back to me.
 

marval

New member
Happily Addicted to the Web


(to the tune of "Winter Wonderland")


Doorbell rings, I'm not list'nin',

From my mouth, drool is glist'nin',

I'm happy--although

My boss let me go--

Happily addicted to the Web.

All night long, I sit clicking,

Unaware time is ticking,

There's beard on my cheek,

Same clothes for a week,

Happily addicted to the Web.

Friends come by; they shake me,

Saying, "Yo, man!

Don't you know tonight's the senior prom?"

With a listless shrug, I mutter, "No, man;

I just discovered letterman-dot-com!"

I don't phone, don't send faxes,

Don't go out, don't pay taxes,

Who cares if someday

They drag me away?

I'm happily addicted to the Web!










 

marval

New member
I don't know who wrote this.

Colin the Cumberland sausage
was as happy as a pig in mud.
Today the master butcher made him
for the table of Mr Wood.

So full of beans was Colin
he was nearly bursting from his skin,
until the butcher wrapped him in paper
for the errand boy to deliver him.

Colin the Cumberland sausage
was delivered the very same day
to Publican Wood at the Barley Mow pub
who would cook him in the usual way.

Colin was laid out on the table
ready to go in the pan,
but Wuffer the dog entered the kitchen
and took Colin in his mouth and ran.

Now nobody knows what became of Colin
we assume he was eaten by the dog,
but don’t be surprised to see his brother
on the table of the Barley Mow pub.
 

marval

New member
It is Spring and time for another poem.

Spring Song by Robert Louis Stevenson

THE air was full of sun and birds,
The fresh air sparkled clearly.
Remembrance wakened in my heart
And I knew I loved her dearly.

The fallows and the leafless trees
And all my spirit tingled.
My earliest thought of love, and Spring's
First puff of perfume mingled.

In my still heart the thoughts awoke,
Came lone by lone together -
Say, birds and Sun and Spring, is Love
A mere affair of weather?
 
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