My Poetry And Prose-Page 4

Here is a collection of my poetry and prose writings that I have written over the years. Most of my writings were created and composed in my youth.

(143) Little Islands

Each of us are little islands separated by a great gulf, and even though we are so near, yet we are so far apart. We are all on a little island to ourself, and we won't let anybody come there. We are separated and we are strangers despite all the words. There exists between us and every other person in the world a great distance and we cannot go to them, and they cannot come to us.

We look into their eyes, but they are an eternity away, behind those eyes, and beyond our observation. We cannot really know what people are thinking, what they feel, or who they are. We cannot penetrate their minds and see the world the way they see it, nor can they know our thoughts. Thus we are lost to one another, and do not really know one another at all. We are a world full of strangers blindly and desperately trying to get to know one another before we die. However deep down we are fearful of being known by others, fearful of being made vulnerable. Instinctively we seek to conceal from one another our deepest emotions, our secret yearnings, our most horrid fears, and our innermost thoughts, and therefore we remain strangers.

There are things we would tell nobody, and would not even admit to ourselves. We are all individuals and a wall surrounds us. We walk, talk, and live together, but our thoughts are our own, and from birth to death we are alone with our thoughts estranged from the rest of the world.

There is only one thing in the universe that bridges the gap between us, and that is love. That vast and dark chasm which separates us can only be bridged by love. Love alone can bring us together and let us care for one another, and help us to find comfort and peace in the presence of one another. If it were not for love we would all perish in isolation and loneliness on our little islands.

(144) Butterflies

In all the world no creature quite compares with the butterfly. A butterfly is a beautiful living bundle of colors darting overhead, lighting on a flower, and dazzling in the noonday sun. An insect? No, a butterfly is a magical being, a spirit of fancy and fairness from some wonderland.

Butterflies are joyful beings as they go kissing the flowers and dancing in the wind. At the sight of them we feel our childhood wonder once more. That wonder that marvels at the world. So sad that we lose that wonder and awe that we had in tender youth.

Fluttering overhead and bobbing up and down, a multicolored butterfly is an entrancing and awe inspiring sight. Perhaps if we could once again see things as we did as a child we could see the butterfly as the wonderful magical being it is, and for an instant at least be the innocent little child we once were.

(145) Depression

The years have built walls around me and enclosed me. I cannot break out. My life has become so empty. I live as one in the tomb, as one in the grave. I cannot make myself heard, and no one breaks through the silence to me.

I feel myself drifting into the darkness. I cannot pull free. I sense doom. Beauty stirs my heart, and briefly I am revived. Wonder and awe reach out to me from afar, but my despairs overwhelm me. My despairs and fears have become my masters, and I have relinquished to them all control over my destiny.

I have become subservient to all those wretched worries and thoughts which illuminate the horrors latent in the human mind. Less and less am I able to summon hope. Too long have I been turned inward, too long has been my isolation, too long has been my separation from love.

The stars no longer inspire me. I am no longer thrilled by rainbows or sunsets. My heart leaps up no more at the sight of a flower or the sound of the birds singing. Nature even in Her most cheerful garb cannot put joy in my blighted heart. I no longer eagerly await the dawn and arise and greet the rising sun with joyful hope and anticipation in my heart.

Dark depression has enshrouded me. Like a base slave I have let it tyrannize over my heart. I must shake myself free from this oppression. The world is still bright and beautiful. There are many kind and good people. God still loves me. It is this foul despondency that has blinded my eyes and stopped my ears. If only i can make it through this dark night, I know there will be a bright dawn.

(146) There's Something Joyful Here

There's something joyful here
In the springtime of the year,
It's in the song of the bird,
And in other sounds I have heard;

It's in the spring shower,
And in the spring flower,
It's in the laughter of the young,
And in the glow of the sun;

It's in the butterfly,
And in the blue sky.
There is a joy in the spring night,
And in the stars so bright;

It's in people in love,
And in the treetops above,
It's in the grass on the hill,
And in the whippoorwill;

It's in the frogs that sing,
And well, I think it's in everything,
For in the springtime of the year
There's something joyful here.

(147) Blossom Time

I doubt if anytime is more beautiful than blossom time in the springtime of the year. In the spring how fresh and fragrant the air is, and how everything just kind of blossoms out all over the place.

There is no sense worrying and grieving. It won't help. I can't change things. I just have to learn to live with it. It's springtime now and things are bound to get better.

The sweet-williams and bluebells are blooming in the woods, and the dogwoods and redbuds surely are pretty. The lilacs are blooming and their sweet fragrance wafts the springtime air.

Life is good, and it's a wonderful world after all. See, there are robins in the yard, and the daffodils and tulips are blooming. Things are not so bad. Listen to those birds sing. They surely are happy about something.

Outside the world is coming alive as little twigs are turning all colors and green is popping out of the soil and all over. Why, I even see a butterfly, and there are some baby rabbits. How could anything be bad or sad at blossom time?

(148) Contentment

Day and night are mine,
Moonlight and sunshine,
The world of birds and flowers,
And the glory of the stars;

Lifeand hope and peace,
And the wind blowing through the trees,
The power of the storms,
And the sky and sun that warms;

And leaves, green leaves, fallen leaves,
And time to enjoy these,
Moments to be free,
Years to live and contentment to be.

(149) I Don't Know What To Do

Fish know to swim, worms know to crawl, and spiders know to weave webs, but I don't know what I am supposed to do. Rivers know to flow, and stars know to shine, and cats know to meow and chase mice, but I'm not sure which way to go.

Flowers know to bloom, and ducks know to quack and waddle, and geese know to honk and fly south in winter. Pigs know to squeal and grunt and wallow in the mud, and frogs know to jump and croak, donkeys know to hee-haw and kick, horses know to whinny, squirrels know to eat nuts and chatter, bees know to buzz and sting, and crickets know to rub their legs together to make noise, but what am I supposed to do?

Dogs know their part about barking and wagging their tails, and all about chasing rabbits or maybe cats, and birds know all about singing and flying, and rabbits are great at hopping and wiggling their nose, and fleas are experts at biting, chickens know to cackle and lay eggs, and roosters are wonderful crowers, so how come I don't know what I'm doing and don't have a clue about what to do?

(150) Monster Of The Night

It was the middle of a dark night and I had not been able to sleep all night because of this monster and fiend of the night. In the stillness of the night the terrible sound he made was deafening.

That horrible loud noise was not unlike the roaring of a tiger or the shrieking of a demon. Freight trains, diesel trucks climbing hills, jet planes taking off could have sounded no louder than this montrous evil creature.

So near he would come, overhead, all about, buzzing in my ear, a lone mosquito tearing up the night. So much noise coming from such a tiny insect. As I covered my ears with my pillow I wondered if I would have to put up with this noisy fellow all night.

(151) The Grasshopper

One chilly autumn morning I beheld a grasshopper struggling in the early morning dew, his almost lifeless body shuddering feebly. The autumn night had been cold, and that wee creature was faced with soon and certain death from the elements.

He was soon to be victim of that over which he had no control, a change of seasons, a drop in the temperatures, the turning and tilting of the earth. And I thought was his fate so different from my own? Was I not also bound by laws of being as immutable as he? And someday like the grasshopper I will weakly struggle when destiny has had enough of me.

(152) I Must Cease Someday

Rocks last and rivers last,
But I must cease someday.
The wind lasts, and the sea,
But I must go away.

The sky lasts, and the clouds,
But I must leave them all.
The sun lasts, and the stars,
But I must heed the call.

Evenings last, and mornings,
But I must pass from sight.
Mountains last, and valleys,
But must take my flight.

Beauty lasts, and wonder,
But I must from life go.
Fond hopes last, and joys,
But I must go I know.

True love lasts, and tears,
But I must go afar.
Ideals last, and beliefs,
But I must catch a star.

(153) (Behold It's Spring Again)

Behold it's spring again,
And thebloom, leaf, and blade
Have consented to reveal their face.

Behold it's spring again,
And the grass in the glade
Has sprung up all over the place.

Behold it's spring again,
And the bird sings his song,
While the frog croaks in the night.

Behold it's spring again,
And there's nothing much wrong
A walk in the woods won't make right.

(154) Angelic Eyes

She has the eyes of an angel. How pure and clear are her eyes, how happy and gentle, and how free of the uncertainty and confusion that so often fills mine. Sincerity is in her glance, and serenity leaps forth from her gaze.

That she is beautiful there is no doubt, but her beauty centers in those eyes. They are a world unto themselves. Something, some force or otherworldly spirit eternal, emits from her eyes and casts a spell on all around.

The joy that reigns in my heart when she looks atme is incomparable. Her eyes, how they thrill me, how they warm and fill me! Fond limpid pools! Magnificent crystalline orbs! I would give the world just to peer to my heart's content into your depths forever.

(155) Random Thoughts

The emotions of a person must be controlled by a delicate mechanism, for the slightest imbalance causes them to go haywire.

It is our imperfections which draw us closer together.

The power of words is such that they sway minds by mere suggestion.

Our soul yearns for release from the prison of our fears and doubts.

The bane of faith is that trace of doubt.

In an instant we lose our self-confidence as our insides go queasy and our mind turns blank.

How difficult to think clearly and objectively when we are involved personally.

The habit of worrying is so implanted in our mind that we become suspicious and particularly apprehensive when there seems to be nothing to worry about.

When one big worry is resolved ten little worries rush in to take its place and make us more miserable than before.

There is a magic, a wondrous feeling which attends the dawn of each new day, and those first faint rays of the rising sun always seem to beam new anticipation and hope into our heart.

Too great a reliance on tomorrow may hinder us from doing what we should do, what we want to do, what we feel like doing today.

A productive individual is a happy individual.

The worst problems in life are those we make for ourselves.

Faultfinding has a way of backfiring.

Once spoken a word is forever irretrievable.

Quickly we pass from time to eternity.

How carelessly, blindly we use our time, and how pointlessly and unpurposely we live the few years of our life.

Evil itself is a disease.

We on this planet are approaching the ideal, but unfortunately we happen to be people.

It would not be amiss to say that man is the only creature who destroys with as much fervor as he creates.

The greater part of life's distresses stem from the fact that we take ourselves too seriously.

Sadly the adventure of life is misinterpreted by most of us.

Most of the fun in life dwells in anticipation.

The more difficult the task the greater the satisfaction when it is finished.

We fight too many shadows.

Happiness is success after many failures.

Beauty is more of a feeling than a sight.

We are at our best when we are natural.

The future is a reflection of the past.

Music elevates and renovates the thoughts.

Our civilization is based on mutual respect, and any mass deviation from this can only result in chaos and disaster.

We are involved in an impossible situation, life and death.

Emotions are among the worst and the most wonderful of things.

(156) And Were Life But A Day

And were life but a day
I would choose to live it 'neath some shady tree,
There in rapture to stay
Perusing a book of choice poetry
Amid all Nature's vast charms.
The sights, the sounds not far removed from these
Of natural awesome forms,
The hills, the clouds, the gently swaying trees.

(157) Unto My Saviour I Cry

I lift up my eyes unto the sky,
Unto my Saviour I cry.
With my heart I humbly pray,
Oh my Lord, hear me today!

Be with me as I travel this road,
Lord help me bear my load.
Without Thee I am so alone,
By the cold bitter wind am blown.

My load is far too heavy for me,
Only Thou can set me free.
As I kneel here on the ground,
Thy presence is near all around.

I seem to feel a strength so strong,
And seem to hear the sweetest song.
A peace I feel so divine,
A wondrous blessing is mine.

An assurance I never had before,
Helps me to go onward once more,
Through the cold and darkest night,
Onward Lord, unto the light.

(158) My Own Quotations

The reason and will of mankind can create paradise from rubble, if only it is applied in the spirit of good and love, and conducted in the manner of harmony and honor.

It lies in the power of a person to grasp any situation by the handle and make it manageable.

Cursed be the ancients who coined the words worry and hate, for from those words have come the greater part of our woes.

Ten years we repent of an action we did in a second.

Peace is the reward of innocence.

Time has the final word.

A seed signifies hope, a bud expectation, and a flower fulfillment.

Sometimes it is harder to stand still than it is to walk.

One person is representative of all people.

A friend is someone who has confidence in us even after we seem to have lost confidence in ourself.

Reasonable people are always willing to listen.

Some people are never at home when the heart comes knocking for entrance.

The worst thing in life is the fear of failure.

If we could possess peace everything else would be inconsequential.

Maturity is learning how to lose cheerfully.

Your best friend is the one who will still like you even after you've proved how unlikeable you can be.

Friendship can't be faked, it must be genuine or it inevitably falls through.

The hardest thing to digest is a mistake.

The only wise persons are those oblivious of the fact that they are wise.

The force of good only has power if it is applied.

It is not always enough to mean well.

Happiness is a state of mind.

It is a short voyage across choppy seas from birth to death.

There come a time when a person must stand up for what they think is right regardless the consequences.

Life is the wonder of the universe.

(159) Earthly Gain Is all For Nought

Earthly gain is all for nought,
The things of God cannot be bought.
Our price is but one thing,
That we ourselves bring.

Through storm and trial and snare,
May we still our crosses bear,
'Till we reach that heavenly shore,
And we have our burdens no more.

Our loved ones are waiting there,
In that heavenly realm fair,
To welcome us with open arms,
After we have weathered life's storms.

(160) Come And Dream With Me

Come and dream with me,
In the light of day,
Or in the night we may,
In dreamland let us be.

Let us dream beneath the sky,
As our life to dreams we give,
As in our dreams we live,
Let us dreamily pass by.

White clouds up above,
Let us dream as they flow,
Life is but a dream you know,
Let us in our dreams love.

The stars twinkling bright,
Sweet dreams they inspire,
With their dreamlike power,
Ever present in the night.

The soft golden moonlight gleams,
And on every moonlit scene,
A world of dreams is seen,
For our life is made of dreams.

(161) My Own Quotations

In a sense we create our own world, and from much the same material one may create a paradise and the other an infernal.

Words are similar to music and those who speak them musicians. The unkind are always striking the sour notes.

Courtesy pays more dividends than stocks or bonds.

Friends are those one would rather be with than be alone.

One might say a person is of little value unless they are a friend, and show forth friendliness.

The object of life is not possession, but contribution.

There is something about a smile which alleviates everything sad and oppressive in the human heart.

There is nothing more appalling than neglect or unconcern for the rights or feelings of others.

By doing a service for someone else with their good in view one performs the supreme oblation.

The greatest blessing is waking up in the morning and finding oneself yet alive.

There is nothing like starting out on a new road to help one forget about their troubles.

Every so often a person needs a little praise and a little reproof.

The trouble with the world is there are too many strangers.

Today is something we waste away waiting for tomorrow.

Hope is the morning after when the sun is shining down bright again.

If those who come after us are privileged to hear the birds sing then I think they will not go too far wrong.

Right is a mean between two extremes.

Contentment is agreeing with what one knows is right.

Rain sounds the cords to which all things grow.

Despair is someone looking into the darkness and believing it to be all there is.

The hope and wonder of the universe is born anew in every child.

The world is fashioned to reveal beauty and wonder to every separate individual.

A compliment is a cementer of friendships.

(162) The Love Of God

The love of God maketh us glad,
In our life here below,
It taketh away all the sad,
And lets sweep peace flow.

Great darkness cannot take away
That great eternal light,
For it shall forever stay
As a light in the night.

Such love so pure and full of grace,
God does have for man,
He can brighten every face,
More than all else can.

This love which God does hold in store,
Is free to all who come,
He will release it evermore,
And never hold it from.

That we might be partakers of
This wondrous gift of God,
Dwelling ever within His love,
Happily there to trod.

(163) The End Of The Rainbow

At the end of the rainbow,
I have heard it told,
If you unto the end do go,
You will find a pot of gold.

Once when as a small boy,
A rainbow did brightly shine,
I raced up the hill with joy,
Thinking the treasure would be mine.

The rainbow's end seemed just ahead,
Just a little farther on,
Yet on and on the rainbow led,
And then the rainbow was gone.

The night begin to fall,
As I slowly walked back,
Without having found gold at all,
My hope in rainbows I begin to lack.

My faith in rainbows went away,
As I lost something there.
If only rainbows would stay,
And not fade into thin air.

(164) My Own Quotations

There is not always a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. In fact there is not always a rainbow, but it's nice to see one once in a while.

Laughing is contagious, and so is crying.

The largest tree in the forest may be hollow, just as the strongest wind may not bring rain.

Always try to wait a minute, just a minute. It's not too long to wait, and it may keep you from making a grave mistake.

All things have a source, remember that. Water runs from a source, clouds flow from a source. Without a source there can be nothing.

When we are young we tug at life as if to force it along even faster, but when we become older life tugs at us.

In all the world the sun shines brightest where we call home.

Life is constant rushing toward something and away from something.

Failure is not nearly so bad as never trying again.

The worst thing is not our mistakes, but trying to hide them.

Kindness is among the best of gifts.

Even if we are in the right, we must be careful we do not prove it wrongly.

Forgiving makes it seem as if we were never even wronged.

The basis for all learning is the desire to learn.

Our capability is measured by the faith we have in ourself.

Apprehension and regret often needlessly spoil our life.

Each day brings with it a new revelation.

A person who respects himself will never cease to respect others.

Laughter is just as important for the soul as salt in the human diet.

Invaribly our feelings get in the way of our success.

The beneficial power of positive thoughts is beyond estimation.

Happiness in life comes not from surfeiting, but from sipping.

For some even a blessing is an ill.

Some bad with the good makes the good seem more sweet.

A little bit of praise goes a long way.

The forests and fields and hills of green are our everlasting sources of peace and tranquillity.

(165) Words

Words can be very powerful instruments for good or evil. A person needs to exercise care when using either the spoken or the written word. Once a word is used it cannot be taken back.

Because of cruel words many marriages have broken up, and children have been separated from their parents. Because of words spoken in anger siblings have not spoken to one another for years, and good friendships have been severed forever. No, never underestimate the power of words.

It is often those we love most in the world who are the recipients of our most hateful invectives. Afterwards. sometimes many years afterward, the remorse for those uncontrolled hateful outbursts is very great. Once the words are out, we cannot unsay them, cannot take them back, and the damage is sometimes great and irreparable. Often the relationship is never the same again.

Often children in a school or workers on a job make life miserable for someone else. They perhaps do not realize how agonizing and shaming their little jokes or insults are, and how a few little cruel words can drive a person to the brink of despair or violence.

The words of evil leaders and dictators have also spawned wars, and atrocities against peoples and nations. Their words have the power to sway multitudes to go to war and commit horrible war crimes.

Just as words have the power to cause great harm and evil, they also have the power to cause great good. The Bible says in Proverbs 25:11 "A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver". Words of love, praise, or cheer can help to heal and assuage broken hearts and minds.

The kind and thoughtful can do much good by using the right words, just as the thoughtless and cruel can do much harm by using the wrong words.

How comforting are the words of a loved one or friend in time of grief or illness or in times of great need. Sometimes without those kind words it would be almost impossible to make it through those difficult times. If only we could be so kind and thoughtful with one another all the time, and would measure our words carefully, and use them wisely and for good.

(166) The World Doesn't Need Us

The world doesn't need us. It would go on turning without us. The seasons would keep on going around. The sky would still be blue and the clouds would still drift on by.

Without us it would still all go on, the lakes sparkling in the sun, leaves floating from the trees, birds flying on some distant horizon, summer days lazy and still, and nights all ablaze with the stars. The flowers would still bloom if we were not here, and the wind would still rustle the leaves on the trees, the storms would still form and the lightning still flash and the thunder still rumble.

The sun would still rise even if we were not around to see it, and the moon would come up at night. The world does not depend on our existence, the waves of the sea would still rise and fall, the rivers still run, and the snow capped mountains still stand.

No, we are not necessary. God has blessed us with the gift of life for a brief season here on earth. Let us enjoy what time we have.

(167) The Seared Soul

He looked as you or I,
He could act quite as well,
But there was beyond the eye,
What his features would not tell,
A man stricken within,
With no feeling again.

What branding iron did burn,
To sear his soul so bad?
What burning did his mind turn,
For once feeling he had?
But it is all gone now,
What love God did endow.

Indeed he seems wholly free,
Of sentiment at all,
Without compassion is he,
A man who has met his fall,
Without care for anyone,
Having a love for none.

What a wretched creature,
Conscience quite lacking,
Let this man be your teacher,
Watch closely his tracking,
For his way leads to despair,
A man who cannot care.

(168) The Gift of Love

There is much we do not understand about the world and life, and even about ourselves, but love seems to be universal and the one constant that keeps people and society from unraveling and becoming inhumane and plunging into chaos. As long as we care about one another, and have compassion for others regardless of race, creed, or whatever differences there may be, then we can sustain a world in which love and caring overcome hate and uncaring.

I believe that God has given us this gift of love, and that love is the bond which holds us and our world together. Love is the bond that holds families and friends together, and also the nations and peoples of the world in some kind of accord, for if it were not so, and there were no love in the world, we would have long ago annihilated ourselves.

(169) What Goes Around, Comes Around

I want to like myself,
I could not mistreatothers,
And truly like myself,
I am only happy with myself,
When I make others happy.

I find that happiness lies,
Not in my selfish ends,
But more in helping others,
For this is the key unto peace,
The key unto heaven.

I cannot curse others,
Without being myself cursed,
Or do evil unto others,
Without evil being done unto me,
For that which we do comes back to us.

We are either rewarded,
Or we suffer I find,
For everything that we do,
For everthing in life is a circle,
And what goes around, comes around.

(170) The Bat

One morning as a small boy in my upstairs bedroom in our farmhouse, I awoke to a bat flying over my bed. He evidently came into my bedroom by way of a small hole in the screen of the bedroom window. Back and forth he flew swooping over my bed. Each time he seemed to dip toward my head, and I in a most comical manner, I suppose, would duck my head under the covers.

Summoning my courage, I reached for a book, and began batting at the little critter. He, with his built-in radar, avoided my flailing with uncanny ability it seemed to me. Finally, either tiring of the foolish game, or out of pity for me, he alighted on the wall.

There on the wall he clung, and proceeded to scratch one of his ears. He didn't appear the least menacing there on the wall, but I still had fears of him biting me and possibly contracting rabies or something.

So, feeling more and more like a villian, I stole toward the wall, book in hand, to squash him. I raised the book, and struck at him on the wall. Heaven prevailed, I missed, and he escaped out the window.

(171) Childhood Memories

I remember when I was a little boy on the farm waking up to the smell of my mom's pancakes in the morning, and of how good the blackberry pies my mom used to make tasted. When my mom baked pies she always used to bake an extra little pie for me in alittle piepan which I could eat right away soon after the pies were hot from the oven.

I remember watching my dad roll his old homemade cigarettes, and listening to him tell stories of his youth of breaking wild horses and sawing wood with an old crosscut saw. I remember watching his eyes light up when he recalled days gone by of shocking corn, going hunting and fishing, and of drinking and getting into fights at platform dances as a young man.

I remember listening to my mom sing church songs of an evening, and watching her braid her long blonde hair, and seeing her happiness when a bunch of little chickens hatched.

I remember going out of a morning to do my chores and have my little dog bound up to meet me. I remember taking a walk up the hill above our house into the pasture and looking down at the house where I was I was born. I remember the sky was so blue it almost took my breath away and I seemed so happy.

(172) Beauty

Beauty has an extraordinary effect upon the mind and the senses. It seems to suggest perfection. It is not one thing, but many things coming together to form the beautiful in the mind's eye. The eye that can know beauty must be present, or the ear that can hear, and the mind and heart that can receive.

One is delighted by a beautiful woman, or a beautiful scene, but one must be receptive or there is nothing that appears beautiful. This awareness and appreciation of beauty is often lost to many as the wayward course of life goes through tunnels of darkness and despair.

But in all of us there awakes at times this immortal sense of beauty. One may notbe able to put it into words, but it is there, this sense and feeling of the beautiful, and we are renewed and inspired by it.

In the supreme perfection of our sense of beauty, that which appeared unlovely becomes the lovely, and we notice beauty in the little unnoticed things of life, as we see beauty in its truest form, by the welding together of our heart and our thought with all of creation.

A thing may be beautiful of itself, but only when viewed or perceived in context and relationship with everything else is it's true beauty enhanced and immortalized. The fairest portion of creation is not fully appreciated and revered as beautiful unless there is a beholder or admirer, and that being is capacious and receptive. Just one to admire may make of a desert an oasis, of a dark planet a star, and of an ugly duckling a swan.

(173) The Birds

I feel that the birds I see flying and hear singing are my friends. Always a gentle mood comes upon me when I hear them singing. They seem to be a part of some heavenly picture in my mind.

There is in the mind of all of us a picture of paradise. It is our own special picture of what is perfect and fine, what is divine and heavenly, what is good and right, and what is pure and innocent. Each of us has our own unique picture of heaven. Those things in life we love are a part of that picture. Beautiful birds sweetly singing are in my picture of heaven.

Come singing round my heart,
In heavenly concord retort,
Fine feathered friends so free,
May you ever be friends to me.

Resound your merry singing,
From tree to tree ringing,
Across the strands of time,
May your sweetness ever chime.

Birds are angels in disquise,
Flying always in the skies,
What gentle beings they appear,
They love to please my ear.

With loving eyes they do dwell,
Upon a tree limb singing well,
As through the world I go along,
I love the the birds and their song.

(174) The Night

The night is steeped in mystery. It is a shadowy realm. The night stirs the imagination. The night is the time for dreaming, for musing, and for escaping the sometimes harsh realities of the day.

I love the quiet of the night. The night is a tranquil time, and helps to compose the thoughts. It has not the glare of the day. The nighttime air is cooler and tends to soothe. Day demands recognition, night pleads for rest and forgetfulness.

Night wraps us up in a dark blanket, and repairs the wounds we suffered during the day, and prepares us for tomorrow. Day reveals, night obscures, day shouts, "arise, there is much to do", night whispers, "rest, all is done for now".

(175) Who's To Say The World's Not Fair?

Look and listen to all,
Hear the meadowlark's plaintive call,
The grass is green on the hill,
The days are bright, the night's are still.

Busy, busy, the bumblebee,
Swaying in the breeze the lovely tree,
Morning and the sun shines in,
Greeting the world with a grin.

Evening and with eons of grace,
The bright sun withdraws it's face,
Who's to say the world's not fair?
Who's to live and not feel magic in the air?

Who's to look at a lovely flower,
And not feel better off than they are?
Who's to doubt the glory of life,
Despite the trouble and all the strife?

(176) A Generous Heart

My mother was one of the most kind and generous persons I have ever known. I remember whenever someone stopped by our farm when I was a boy growing up, she always insisted they stay for a meal or a cup of coffee or a little bite to eat, even if they were strangers, and she always wanted to give them some kind of gifts when they went to leave, maybe just a few eggs or vegetables from our garden, but noone ever left without some kind of little gift.

What a wonderful world it wouldbe if we all could be more generous. Generosity can take many forms, and it need not always be in the form of gifts or things of material value, but in the form of generosity of a more spiritual kind, such as praying for others, and being more kind and courteous to others. It can also be expressed in the giving of our time to help others, of taking the time to call or visit a friend or relative, or remembering someone who is ill or alone and elderly with a cheerful greeting or small gift.

There is so much more we could all do to promote the spirit of generosity in our world, in our homes, jobs, schools, cities, and businesses. Just a smile, a thank you, or a friendly greeting can contribute greatly to making the world a more pleasant place. Having a generous heart is the best way I know to make the world a better place to live in.

(177) The Setting Sun Is Not Forever Gone

The setting sun is not forever gone,
Be not sad and forlorn,
For though the night may be long,
The sun will shine again in the morn.

Thus with us who have suffered loss,
Of our loved ones who passed away,
The long night of our grief,
Will end with the dawn someday.

This interval of time on earth,
Is but a prelude to eternity,
When we shall be reunited once again,
And with our loved ones forever be.

(178) A Toothache

A toothache is really a pain,
It makes one go insane,
To bang one's head against a wall,
Nothing helps at all.

Go away! Go away toothache!
For mercy's sake!
What did I do to deserve you?
Toothache, your making me blue!

I would do almost anything to be free
Of this toothache pain and agony,
And if this toothache does persist,
I may even, heaven forbid, go to a dentist!

(179) The Ferns

A native to our woods, who enjoy the cool shade, are the ferns. The ferns make their home at the feet of the great hardwood trees deriving nourishment from the dead leaves of the oak and hickory, the elm and ash. The ferns find life peaceful and secure protected by the thick overhead canopy of the forest.

The thin spiny fronds of the fern are almost always found in cool, shady spots, and thus we come to acquaint them with coolness and freshness. Ferns live in our mind's eye in the very heart of the deep woods, as they are numerous there where few other plants grow in abundance.

Fern's are simple plants, having no flowers, but they have a delicate almost mystical air about them. They are ancient plants, witness to many changes on earth, while remaining unchanged themselves.

We cannot view or think of the ferns without our thoughts entering the fern's habitat, the cool, shaded, peaceful woods. Thoughts of the ferns provide us with quietude and comfort. It would be a pleasant place to take our rest among the ferns.

(180) We Are Not So Different

I may live in another country,
Your language I may not speak,
My religion or politics may be different,
But happiness and peace we all seek.

I may be disabled and in a wheelchair,
I may a nursing home or hospital room share,
I may be of a different color or culture,
But like you I still eat and breathe the air.

We are not so very much different,
Just because one is rich and another poor,
Or one educated and another is not,
Young or old, we are no less or more.

We all make mistakes, and at times need help,
We all need shelter from the cold and rain.
We all have families, and those we love,
We all feel sorrow, sadness, and pain.

(181) Acceptance

At times we can accept everything, even ourselves, life and even death, as opposed to the times when we are more unaccepting of life and the world. There are days we feel close to all that be, when we feel no hatred, no dislike even for the difficult and unpleasant aspects of life.

There are times that nothing seems alien, and waking or sleeping we feel close to all creation, feel love and awe, and wonderment for people, for the creatures and foliage, for the rocks and waters, and we are happy and accept things as they are.

At such times we admire the sun and stars, the hills and valleys, the sky and fields and woods, are happy just to be here, and have the opportunity to view such sights. Even our ailments, our aches and pains, our bills, the little annoyances of life don't get us down on those good days, but are accepted as a part of life and being alive. At those times of acceptance we also come to accept people more, to have more love and respect for others, and to see their good attributes.

It would be wonderful if we could always have that acceptance of things, and be that hopeful and optimistic, and be less critical, angry, and fearful of life, of the world around us, and of other people.

(182) A breath

Our fragile life is tethered by a breath,
All that separates us from death,
Just a breath away from eternity,
A breath from setting our spirit free.

We are a breath of air from letting go,
Of everything in life we own or know,
A breath from saying goodbye
To our loved ones, and to die.

Kings, presidents, you and I,
The rich, the poor, all must die,
And there is just one tiny breath
Between each of us and death.

(183) Christmas All Year Long

If we could only keep,
Christmas all year long,
How wonderful that would be,
How filled with love and song.

A kinder world would exist,
If Christmas were every day,
Happiness would prevail,
And joy never go away.

Good will and love for all,
And nothing would be wrong,
But peace on the earth,
If Christmas were all year long.

(184) Our Little Furry Friends

Ourdear little furry friends,
Are such good friends to us all,
Always such kind companions,
Always coming when we call.

Happiness they add to our lives,
With their gentle, friendly ways,
Making our lives much brighter,
And bringing sunshine to our days.

When we are sad or lonely,
Just having our cat or dog near,
Is a great source of comfort,
In our life on earth here.

(185) Illuminating The Soul

How can we tell them that maybe their way is not the best, and that to blindly accept conformity and do exactly as others do without question is not really living at all? We must dig into life for ourself even if by so doing we walk contrary to our contemporaries and become somewhat of a pariah.

In the long run it is better to break our own path. We make this trip only once. We owe it to ourselves to investigate life for ourself even if it means we err and get lost occasionally.

In comparison with others our life might appear to be a failure, but maybe our goals are different. Life is a spiritual search for truth and serenity, for the only worthwhile purpose involves spiritual growth and illuminating the soul.

(186) Buttercups

Buttercups are reflections of the sun's glory,
Fairest yellow glistens from their petals,
Profusely splashed against the green of the pasture,
Making the world a brighter place.

When I with woe do pass that way,
My heart revives,
And I feel once more hope of life,
The hope shining in that flower.

Beautiful flower,
How can you know my heart's sorrow,
By what power do you instill such faith,
And make me feel whole again?

Life's trek takes us into dark,
And forlorn paths,
Where all manner of gruesome fears,
Threaten and plague us.

Dear then is sight of such a lovely form,
Professing glory to all who pass by,
And flashing upon our inner heart,
Thoughts of peace and beauty.

(187) Apprehension

Apprehension lives and breeds,
Inside the human mind,
Upon the fears it feeds,
It is beyond any reason known,
For in all one may fear find,
Which reason cannot atone.

A fear of tomorrow,
That something bad will come,
Far greater than sorrow,
An unbearable anxiety,
The dread of doom for some,
A doom one cannot see.

A terrible thing before,
In the future somewhere,
Some evil held in store,
Some unknown power of fate,
A horrible face does wear,
Causing uneasiness great.

Apprehension is a power,
That does joy often mire,
As it takes a firm hold,
The soul itself to enfold.

(188) Paths

It seems when we move in certain directions life is more pleasant and rewarding than at other times. Especially when we are kind and do that which is good do we feel at peace. When we act with kindness and unselfishness we are more happy and satisfied, whereas on the other hand when we are unkind and selfish we experience unhappiness and pangs of conscience and guilt.

Why do we not act therefore more unselfishly with more love and compassion for others if it is so rewarding? I think is because sometimes we get on the wrong path. Plainly there are certain avenues in life the following of which yield us greater peace and happiness. I believe these are the paths God would have us follow. Discovering those paths out of all the paths which confront us, is indeed life's most difficult task.

For from correctly choosing the right paths to follow in life comes the fulfillment and harmony we so desperately need. If we choose our paths wisely we eventually find our rightful place in life, the place God has chosen for us.

(189) Errant Flight

A tiny grey bird,
Lay dead upon the ground,
It's song no more heard,
No more will it make a sound.

I heard the thud in the rain,
Of it's errant flight,
Crashing into my window pane,
Where bits of feathers and blood met my sight.

Now it's lifeless body lay,
Limp and still before me there,
It's little life passed away,
And no one but I to care.

(190) Bridges Of Peace

Let us build bridges of love,
Not barriers of hate,
Let us build bridges of peace,
Before it is too late.

Let us bridge the gap between us,
And find a common ground,
We are all brothers and sisters,
And our common needs abound.

Let us build bridges of understanding,
Not walls of anger that divide,
But bridges of mercy and compassion,
Where hope and peace abide.

(191) The Forgotten Ones

We were in prison,
But no one came,
Our former friends,
Had forgotten our name.

We were sick,
And in a hospital bed,
But no one visited,
No words of comfort were said.

We were hungry and cold,
Homeless and on the street,
But no one offered to help,
Or gave us shelter or food to eat.

Let us not forget or turn a blind eye,
Or a deaf ear to those in need,
But remember them in prayer,
And lend them comfort in word and deed.

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