Poem Expert

Grandfathers are the most important men in kids’ lives, after fathers, of course. They instill human values and the kindest qualities in the character of very young children. Well, sometimes they are happy to find a joint activity with the children. They have a special pastime with grandfathers based on trust. It includes interesting games and deep conversations. Send your grandfather one, or better several poems from this selection. And believe me, he will be very pleased.

«A True Hero» by Julie Mills

What makes a man a hero?
I’ve often thought this through.
It’s someone who is macho?
It’s someone who is true?

No, that is not a hero.
He’s just a simple man.
Always there when things go wrong
and who does the best he can.

He lends a strong shoulder
To ease the flow of tears
He holds high the lantern
To drive away your fears.

His smile was just enough
To give encouragement.
His frown more than adequate
To make one soon relent.

When some had need of guidance
His ears he’d freely lend
Advice came in abundance
You chose, not him could you offend.

He had no need of medals
Or glory this is true.
That’s why, dear Grandpa
Our hero has to be you.

***

«A Very Special Man» by Mynda Residori

Many words to speak about a great man that we call Pop.
He never told my boys no,
And his love will never stop.
I have known him just eight years, but a lifetime in my soul,
And every time I saw him I never thought he’d go.
So many happy times, and so many possum grins,
So much he will be missed from all his family and friends.
He loved everyone that’s here, and some he never met.
A man of patience and kindness, I know we won’t forget.
My boys loved him dear, with just a bushel and a peck,
And never could they leave without a hug around the neck.
My husband was his grandson.
Pop always called him grand.
Then came along Ty and Dill,
Now they’re his biggest fans.
It’s hard to say goodbye
To a person I knew so great.
I wish I could have said goodbye,
but I guess I was too late.
Maybe he is listening to what I have to say.
I’m sure he will be there every night when I lay to pray.
Now that it is over,
He has flown to up above,
I know that he will be happy,
with the fulfillment of God’s love.
We let you go,
In any way that we can,
But please know that you will be missed,
Because you were a very special man…

***

«Definition Of Grandpa» by Bobbie R Bringold

Having an answer for every question,
Understanding more than I ever knew,
Glad to help relieve any form of stress,
Happy no matter what there was to do.
Placing fake bets on silly horse races,
And always with a smile.
Trying so hard to make everyone happy,
Regardless of an extra mile.
Intentions always on the good side,
Careful to always say the right thing,
Knowing more than we’ll ever know, but
Maybe he’s above us with a pair of wings.
Unlimited love to us he gave,
Living life one day at a time,
Having difficulties to overcome
Oh, if life were as easy as rhyme.
Leaving us wasn’t his choice at all.
Loving us forever was,
And in our hearts he remains,
Never again to leave us.
Dearest Grandpa, you’re always missed and are forever loved.

***

«Granddad» by Jessica Styles

The smile on your face is a lasting memory in our hearts,.
Nothing in this world, not even life or death, can keep us apart.
You have always been the one we went to for advice,
Whenever we were just upset, or even just a bit uptight,
You always seemed to know the right thing to do and say,
But don’t worry, you’re still the one we go to,
We’ll be together again one day,.
We want to say thank you for being the best that you could be.
You’re our confidant, our best friend, the head of our family.
Now it is time that you can finally stop worrying about us.
You can relax, have fun, you no longer need to fuss.
We know that if we need you, you’ll be here by our side.
We do believe that even though you’re not here with us,
This will never be goodbye,
We love you and the happiness you have given us will last a lifetime.

***

«Grandfather» by Josh Davoll

Ephemeral isn’t beautiful unless it’s beautiful and beautiful.
And beautiful isn’t this unless it’s this.
And beautiful.
And Literature is the water in the ocean,
as the ocean gathers sunshine for Grandfather, who is beautiful.
Grandfather is the man in the ocean who was there.

Those who gather literature this autumn in the ocean
are not beautiful and are not men or ephemeral men
nor are they there in the ocean with Grandfather,

but are beautiful for Grandfather – but fleeting.
This lollipop is fleeting but also not a toy.
It’s a lollipop.
It’s this.
This is not a toy lollipop,
but was a lollipop when Grandfather was a boy and beautiful.

***

«Grandfather» by Amrita Brahmo

I once had to write an essay in school,
and I put together bits and pieces.
From my father’s occasional statements
and my aunt’s ramblings full of appreciation,
and I carefully constructed you.

You, who’d take long walks without telling anyone
when he’d be back, who’d get annoyed at people
who didn’t use logic. You, who sounds so much
like me. You, Grandfather, who loved

my sister, and never even knew me.

It seems unfair that some people should have
stories, and that I should have to make one up.
They say I’m a good storyteller, Grandfather,
did you know? Did you know that there would be
a walk you’d never return from?

Did you know that your wife would teach a child
to converse like you did, and find you in her again?

And years later, your blood would amble along
those very streets, in search of the home
you never came back to.

It makes for a good story, doesn’t it, Grandfather?
Deep down, I think you’d approve.

***

«Grandfather Clock» by Joseph Narusiewicz

Banished like ivory with no blood
Gray swamps in Manchester crowds
Bits and pieces of the new stained glass
Now I am one of the lost

We gather together frozen in life
T S Elliot was too cold for me
Yes the “Ice man comes”
Sleep, the old photos have eyes

Someone lights a candle
We see we are all alike
Do you really believe in prayer?
We all stare at the grandfather clock

***

«Grandfather Memories» by Benay B Ford

I wish you were here, but now you are gone.
When times got tough, it was hard to carry on.
I think of your jokes, laughs and smiles.
I can remember when you and I used to ride for miles.
When I was six years old you would drive me to school.
I’d think, “Gosh, riding with Papaw, isn’t this cool?”
And of course we would always stop at the store.
But I always wanted Papaw to drive a little more.
Papaw, I now have four children that I wish you could have seen.
They are something really special and make a real good team.
You lit up my world and put a lot of love in my heart.
I still feel you and I aren’t very far apart
Because I know that you are the angel that watches over me,
After all, there is no one else in the world I would rather it be.
I still miss you and wish you were here.
I only have to think of you and shed a big tear.
He had to take you home so you wouldn’t suffer any more pain.
Now you are in heaven and we can’t sit on the porch anymore and watch it rain

***

«Grandfathers» by Chris Ernest Nelson

One beat of the drum each year.
One pluck of the string in a century
For this song is carried by the dense fog
and its melody sweeps in with
the breath of the cold Pacific deep.
No man can hear the song embrace the giant forest
with its ancient throbbings and the crystal bells
of sunlight that swirl at the steady feet
of grandfathers
as old as the calendar itself.

The solemn white-capped mountains
applaud the spectacle below,
as the great stands of redwoods
their green arms embracing,
sway to the rhythm of the seasons,
bow only to the beat of the drum.
This is the music of their private dance.
Their tribe knows that which endures
the millennia

and stands guard over our dreams.

***

«Grandfather’s Clock» by Whitney Albright

Papa’s feet would rock
To that old grandfather’s clock
We’d listen to the ticks and tocks
Of that old grandfather’s clock

Across from him I’d be
Sipping sweet iced tea
With my leg crossed at my knee
As still as I could be

I’d tilt my head back to the ceiling
Try to savor the feeling
Of time’s unchanging healing
And moments so revealing

Oh, the way that pendulum swayed
Reminded us time was ticking away
But it froze there a moment that day
Impossibilities, they find their way

Years and years have left me hence
And all to my expense
Moments of Papas’ two cents
Lead me through the present tense

But, oh if I could turn back the hands of time
All of its ticks, tocks, and chimes

If at any memory, I would be
In a sunlit room with my iced tea
There with my Papa at ten past three
Where time stood slow and still for me

***

«Grandpa’s Way Of Love» by Mary Beth Graves

Grandpa, so thin and a twinkle in those
Sparkling blue eyes.
When you looked my way, I felt so loved
With you every day.

As a little girl, I followed your steps,
We ate butter and crackers by the fire
At night.
You loved to make me smile, you said I was your guiding light.

We went fishing, and filled up the pail,
As soon as we arrived home,
You bragged, “Look at all the fish she caught.”
You made me feel so proud.

Anything you would do to make me laugh,
Vaulting over fences at the farm,
Landing in mud puddles and singing Jim Dandy,
My favorite song.

You said I was smart, pretty and so kind,
So, I grew up that way,
Thanks to you, Grandpa,
A quiet fiercely loving man so kind.

As I grew older, and we had coffee
At the kitchen table, and troubles were on my mind,
You would grin and say, You don’t have to
Carry the world upon your shoulders, babe,
Now tell me what’s wrong, and part of that world is mine.

***

«Grandpa’s Plow» by Terry Sledge

When Grandpa put his hands to the plow he walked a country mile,
Sometimes I ran alongside or sat under a shade tree to watch,
I would listen to Grandpa’s words about life he told with a smile,
To plow a straight furrow, focus up ahead and there you watch.

He never looked behind while the plow was still in the ground,
And when plowing the same furrow he’d plow it a little deeper,
Removing all rocks in his path he taught me not to plow around.

Grandpa died, I grew up and the farm was finally sold,
The lessons Grandpa taught me were not just how to plow,
But truth on how to live life if I used what I was told,
Although learned many years ago truth is always for the now.

If you ever hope to make your mark you must look straight ahead,
And refuse to be detoured by the many distractions in life,
Don’t look back to see where you were, but always look ahead.

***

«Grandpa’s Ways Of Love» by Mary Beth Graves

Grandpa, so thin and a twinkle in those
Sparkling blue eyes.
When you looked my way, I felt so loved
With you every day.

As a little girl, I followed your steps,
We ate butter and crackers by the fire
At night.
You loved to make me smile, you said I was your guiding light.

We went fishing, and filled up the pail,
As soon as we arrived home,
You bragged, “Look at all the fish she caught.”
You made me feel so proud.

Anything you would do to make me laugh,
Vaulting over fences at the farm,
Landing in mud puddles and singing Jim Dandy,
My favorite song.

You said I was smart, pretty and so kind,
So, I grew up that way,
Thanks to you, Grandpa,
A quiet fiercely loving man so kind.

As I grew older, and we had coffee
At the kitchen table, and troubles were on my mind,
You would grin and say, You don’t have to
Carry the world upon your shoulders, babe,
Now tell me what’s wrong, and part of that world is mine.

***

«Great Grandpa» by Alan Balter

Great Grandpa is a wise old man who says he’s ninety-four.
He tells me that he lost his leg fighting in some war.
When I was just a little tot with eyes and nose still runny,
He swears that he forgot my name, so now he calls me Sonny.

Great Grandpa is a carpenter; he makes things out of wood,
Chairs and stairs and pegs and legs; gee, I wish I could.
He has saws and tools and tapes and rules in the shed where he does work.
Most times he’s out there late at night with his dear old helper, Turk.

Together they talk of good old days, ’bout things they used to do,
And sometimes they just kick around what are lies and what is true.
Once at breakfast, I asked my gramps when he learned his trade.
He said, “Sonny, I’m very proud to say it was down in second grade.”

“Gramps,” I said, “Now that’s a fib; you weren’t but seven or eight.
A boy can’t be a carpenter at such an early date.”
Grandpa winked and took a swig of cider for his thirst.
“Why, sure you can; it’s easy Sonny, after nine straight years in first!”

We laughed and then he took a nap; his skin grew pale and lighter.
I loved his wrinkled face and brow, this great old freedom fighter.
He had a restful sleep awhile snoring soft and steady.
I wonder if Great Grandpa knows I’m missing him already.

***

«In Loving Memory Of My Grandpa» by Megan Curtis

You have been out of my life for 2 years now,
But it seems like a lifetime
I remember how you always used to say
Never say goodbye, say see you later

Well, I said see you later a million times
When you were laying in that hospital bed
Well, I wish I could see you now,
Or when I had the hardest time of my life
On March 26, 2008

I know you were looking down on me
Then and you are looking down on me
Now and telling me that it is okay
But it feels like everything falls
Apart when you’re not there.

Everyone says it is bad to bottle
Things up and that if I need to cry I should
I don’t like crying in front of people
You were the only one, I couldn’t care less
If I cried in front of

I had you there to comfort me
When I was sad
But when you died everything
Fell apart because I didn’t
Have you to comfort me anymore

I have always wondered, Grandpa,
How is it in heaven?
How is being back with Grandma?
I miss her a lot too…tell her I love her
And I haven’t forgotten about her.

I hope one day we can all reunite
In heaven and have it like old times.
And I will be your mermaid turkey.

***

«Memories Last A Lifetime» by Benay B. Ford

I wish you were here, but now you are gone.
When times got tough, it was hard to carry on.
I think of your jokes, laughs and smiles.
I can remember when you and I used to ride for miles.
When I was six years old you would drive me to school.
I’d think, “Gosh, riding with Papaw, isn’t this cool?”
And of course we would always stop at the store.
But I always wanted Papaw to drive a little more.
Papaw, I now have four children that I wish you could have seen.
They are something really special and make a real good team.
You lit up my world and put a lot of love in my heart.
I still feel you and I aren’t very far apart
Because I know that you are the angel that watches over me,
After all, there is no one else in the world I would rather it be.
I still miss you and wish you were here.
I only have to think of you and shed a big tear.
He had to take you home so you wouldn’t suffer any more pain.
Now you are in heaven and we can’t sit on the porch anymore and watch it rain.

***

«My Granddaddy, My Best Friend» by Lauren E. Garner

The one that is my friend,
The one that is my guide.
How much I love and how much I care,
Is too much to describe.

You’ve always been my hero.
You’ve always been my pride.
You’ve always given so much love
And shown what’s deep inside.

My heart is full of love,
And my soul is all delight.
You’re the one who sang me to sleep
and whispered nighty night.

And every day I pray to God;
I thank him for sending you
Because you’re the one who wrote me the song
And made all my dreams come true!

***

«My Grandfather» by Andrew Matthews

As we stood there in the windswept cemetery,
As we all stood there.
Finally, like an anvil, it hit me.
I, we, would never see our beloved
Grandfather, father, great grandfather,
Brother, best friend and Husband again.

As the warm wind blew around us,
Thunder and lightening flashed in my brain.
And then the release, my tears fell tepid

like summer rain.

To say my grandfather was a great man
Is the biggest understatement ever.
He was a brave person and a really good man
with the personality to match.
‘He was a one off.’ (To quote my uncle)

He was a great teller off jokes and such like,
and he had been making me laugh since I was a little tyke.

And yet it is strange how, when and where
You’re grieving manifests itself.
And how someone can touch your soul,
In life and in death, like my grandfather did.

I love you Grandad.

***

«My Grandfather’s Hands» by Colin Coplin

My grandfather’s hands tell a story
That few today could understand
Each knot a memory, each cut a step forward
That made me what I am

My grandfather’s hands worked the fields
That grew the food that fed the common man
Each day beneath the sun a lash, ten drops of sweat a dollar
That made me what I am

My grandfathers hands, my grandfathers hands
They turned the wheels that made me what I am

My grandfather’s hands I remember them
They were strong, they were gentle
They held me up and placed me on a mantle
On his shoulders I could see the future
My grandfathers hands were gifts we forget to treasure

My grandfathers hands, my grandfathers hands

They turned the wheels that made me what I am

My grandfather’s hands tell a story
That few today could understand
Each knot a memory, each cut a step forward
That made me what I am

***

«My Greatest Grandfather» by Kent Caturan

I am a sheep in the pasture,
I lived a life a life of endless torture,
My Shepherd left without a trace,
I am left in my own ways.

My Shepherd was the greatest man,
He does things no one else can,
He carries me in his arms,
His words were tender and warm.

But how he isn’t anymore,
I am now living in terror,
I now watch every step I’ve tread,
Ever since my shepherd was dead.

***

«My Last Visit» by Alexis Abraham

It’s time
to say goodbye.
I’m so upset,
my mouth has gone dry.

Slowly I bend over
and give you a kiss.
Your blue eyes filled with sadness,
the time I spent together I will miss.

When I pull away,
This pain is in my heart.
I don’t want you to leave me,
I don’t want to be apart.

Sadly, I know
this goodbye means forever.
We have so many memories
that I will always remember.

The drive back home
was the saddest I ever had.
I cried so hard,
I felt so bad.

I prayed that God
would let you stay.
But eventually He took you
far away.

It’s all for the best,
I learned to face.
You are free from pain,
and in a better place.

Your memory is alive,
to this day.
I love you so much, Poppi
even though you’re far away.

I know you look down on me
and still love me with all your heart,
a bond so strong,
it will never break apart.

Please remember me,
and all the good times.
For I love you so much,
I put it in rhyme.

***

«Ten Times A Great Grandfather» by Francis Duggan

Time on old Billy beginning to show
The man from the hill of the dark pale eyed crow
In his early eighties he has lived for many years
But for what was he has shed his last tears
Ten times a great grandfather Kate the love of his life
She is in the cemetery his devoted wife
Three years ago of cancer she passed away
For him her death remains his saddest day
In his two bedroom unit he lives on his own
Of happier days in his life he has known

On nice evenings in the park walking him i do see
He always smiles and says hello to me
Balding his hair it is silvery grey
Far from where he first looked on the bright lamp of day.

***

«The Definition Of A Gentleman» by Gary Bowdery

The definition of a gentleman is clear to detect,
it’s one of warmth love and respect.

When you’re feeling low they will understand,
like they have the answers in the palm of their hands.

The kind words that are often spoken,
to their trust that is never broken.

To the warmth of their smile from the shake of their hand,
that says more than words ever can.

I’m not talking about pulling out chairs or opening doors,
it’s the knowledge that you’re never far from their thoughts. 

With wings of hope, they will always catch you,
if money was love, they’d make you richer.

I think we should learn to be just like these beautiful human beings.

They’re from a generation that is becoming a great loss,
where simple things like manners had no cost.

So we should help this new generation and keep them from harm,
and teach them the definition of a gentleman is….Patrick McMahon

***

«The Grandfather» by Catherine Habbie

He lived all alone in his secluded room
That no one was even allowed to broom
At evening vespers his silvery hair flared
But not a word said anyone, nobody dared

He had his quirks that were really perks
He developed new ones each day
But not a word anyone dared to say
In the end he always had his way

No one tried to look within
See the heart of gold that was well hidden
The cries of wars, the cries of pain
Cries of days lost in vain

The brilliance was easily forgotten
By people who couldn’t get into his skin
He trudged along as an unsung hero each day
He kept his thoughts locked away

He read, he wrote but rarely spoke
Glared everyone with piercing looks
People even mistook him for a spook
Always lost in his old books

But when he bellowed
The earth shook
And took cover in the nearest nook
Why he never even left the poor old cook

Then one day his eyes turned yellow
Why he had begun to turn mellow
On his perch, he now had a little fellow
The chubby little cherub instead bellowed

The grandson sat on his wooden rocking chair
Each day, each morn, only he would dare
Watching the old man in his lair
Now the old man slowly began to care

He laughed, he cried
He did his best, he really tried
Why the onlookers nearly died
When the old man at last sighed

To the charms of the little one he gave in
He couldn’t help it he had to cave in
He soon forgot all his sins
The young and the old were like long lost twins

Each morn, each night they were together
The house was filled with mirth forever
No one cared about the noisy din
The old man had finally found his kith and kin

***

«The Great Grandfather» by Charles Lamb

My father’s grandfather lives still,
His age is fourscore years and ten;
He looks a monument of time,
The agedest of aged men.

Though years lie on him like a load,
A happier man you will not see
Than he, whenever he can get
His great grandchildren on his knee.

When we our parents have displeased,
He stands between us as a screen;
By him our good deeds in the sun,
Our bad ones in the shade are seen.

His love’s a line that’s long drawn out,
Yet lasteth firm unto the end;

His heart is oak, yet unto us
It like the gentlest reed can bend.

A fighting soldier he has been-
Yet by his manners you would guess,
That he his whole long life had spent
In scenes of country quietness.

His talk is all of things long past,
For modern facts no pleasure yield-
Of the famed year of forty-five,
Of William, and Culloden’s field.

The deeds of this eventful age,
Which princes from their thrones have hurled,
Can no more interest wake in him
Than stories of another world.

When I his length of days revolve,
How like a strong tree he hath stood,
It brings into my mind almost
Those patriarchs old before the flood.

***

«The Way We Are Bonded Grandfather» by Sinead Harris

Beautiful blue eyes with serenity of the sea,
Reflection of the skies on a bright and sunny day,
My little hand in yours, my protector and my guide,
Don’t walk too fast, Granddad, for I am by your side.

My eyes are your eyes and your heart is my heart,
We share so much likeness we were never apart,
You would tell me your stories of the Vietnam War,
I felt all that pain as the enemies kept score.

Big strong shoulders not just to carry me but to carry the world too,
The strength inside of you for all you went through,
The peace you gave me knowing you would always love me,
And the kindness and happiness you gave me and I gave you.

No fear do you have or grudges do you hold, my big strong hero
So brave and so bold, a firm hand to hold me, a firm word shows the way
Your little girl forever it’s the way it will always stay

The bond that we have I have never seen or felt before
My face would light up when you would walk through the door
You tucked me in bed then turned off the light but I wasn’t scared
Of the shadows in the night

For I knew it was you keeping watch over me, no harm and no badness
Would you let me see, safe in your arms untouchable it seems
After God took you away it was all in my dreams
And all that is left is my memories of you
I know you are with me and in my heart; I’m with you too.

Beautiful blue eyes with serenity of the sea,
Reflection of the sky’s reflections of me,
My little hand in yours, my protector and my guide,
Don’t walk too fast, Granddad, for I am by your side.

***

«The Way We Were Our Bond» by Sinead Harris

Beautiful blue eyes with serenity of the sea,
Reflection of the skies on a bright and sunny day,
My little hand in yours, my protector and my guide,
Don’t walk too fast, Granddad, for I am by your side.

My eyes are your eyes and your heart is my heart,
We share so much likeness we were never apart,
You would tell me your stories of the Vietnam War,
I felt all that pain as the enemies kept score.

Big strong shoulders not just to carry me but to carry the world too,
The strength inside of you for all you went through,
The peace you gave me knowing you would always love me,
And the kindness and happiness you gave me and I gave you.

No fear do you have or grudges do you hold, my big strong hero
So brave and so bold, a firm hand to hold me, a firm word shows the way
Your little girl forever it’s the way it will always stay

The bond that we have I have never seen or felt before
My face would light up when you would walk through the door
You tucked me in bed then turned off the light but I wasn’t scared
Of the shadows in the night

For I knew it was you keeping watch over me, no harm and no badness
Would you let me see, safe in your arms untouchable it seems
After God took you away it was all in my dreams
And all that is left is my memories of you
I know you are with me and in my heart; I’m with you too.

Beautiful blue eyes with serenity of the sea,
Reflection of the sky’s reflections of me,
My little hand in yours, my protector and my guide,
Don’t walk too fast, Granddad, for I am by your side.

***

«To My Grandfather» by Georgia Harkness

A giant pine, magnificent and old
Stood staunch against the sky and all around
Shed beauty, grace and power.
Within its fold birds safely reared their young.
The velvet ground beneath was gentle,
and the cooling shade gave cheer to passers by.
Its towering arms a landmark stood, erect and unafraid,
As if to say, “Fear naught from life’s alarms”.
It fell one day.
Where it had dauntless stood was loneliness and void.
But men who passed paid tribute – and said,
“To know this life was good,
It left it’s mark on me. Its work stands fast”.
And so it lives. Such life no bonds can hold –
This giant pine, magnificent and old.

***

«Together Yet Apart» by Kyra Lee

It’s gotten harder and harder
since the day you went away
but still people keep telling me
everything shall be okay

I know deep inside
that it’s better up there
but we’re not together
which makes it unfair

Seems like yesterday
that we were together
then I opened my eyes
to realize gone means forever

It hurts and it aches
it’s slicing my heart
for the rest of my life
we shall be apart

I’m waiting for the future
hoping to see
that when I die
You’ll open up those gates for me

Having a Poppy
with a heart made of gold
is my favorite treasure
which will never grow old

Family reunions
will never be the same
’cause you’re not there with us
to be stronger I aim

Your chair at the table
is empty and cold
you need to come home
I need someone to hold

Now that you’re gone
I have novone to run to
Am I doing this right
please send me a clue

I don’t understand
the meaning of life
I can’t get this right
Keep getting in strife

Do you know
How much we all love you
Do you realize
How much I trust You

You’re officially gone
But forever in my heart
You and me Poppy
together, yet apart

***

«Treasure Remembered» by James M. Carr

For all the stories that were never to be told,
Back to a time when I was a boy so long ago,
I knew a man whose kindness touched the hearts of many,
And he would often be the first to lend you his last penny,
Yes his heart was pure gold forged from out of love,
Right from the hands of the almighty who sits high above,
There were times I must have driven him crazy as if he were my toy,
With all my “want to’s” and “why not’s” when I was a boy,
He loved and cared for all those that he knew,
His family, friends and most of all you,
Many happy memories I carry within my heart,
Vowed never to forget and never to be apart,
As a boy I would look up to this man with great awe,
For you see he was my friend and he is my Grandpa.

***

«True Hero» by Julie Mils

What makes a man a hero?
I’ve often thought this through.
It’s someone who is macho?
It’s someone who is true?

No, that is not a hero.
He’s just a simple man.
Always there when things go wrong
and who does the best he can.

He lends a strong shoulder
To ease the flow of tears
He holds high the lantern
To drive away your fears.

His smile was just enough
To give encouragement.
His frown more than adequate
To make one soon relent.

When some had need of guidance
His ears he’d freely lend
Advice came in abundance
You chose, not him could you offend.

He had no need of medals
Or glory this is true.
That’s why, dear Grandpa
Our hero has to be you.

***

«What Is A Grandpa?» by Jessica Shaw

What is a Grandpa?

A grandpa is a father; a grandpa is a son.
A grandpa is a husband; all grandpas are loved.
Some grandpas have hair, while others are bald.
Some grandpas fish, and others like hunting.
A grandpa can be more than just a grandpa though.
A grandpa can be a friend who knows how to have fun.
All grandpas are special to many other people.
But no other grandpa is just like mine.
Grandpas are unique in many different ways.
No two grandpas are alike.
My grandpa might not be like he is now,
But even if that happened I know one thing that’s true.
My grandpa will always be a special person to me.

***

«You’re Gone Now» by Kimmi Lewis

I didn’t know you very well,
But I knew you were Pop.
I really miss you every now and then.
And I will never stop.

I wonder how life would be
If you were still here,
If we would all be happy again,
But I know you are always near.

Looking down from where you are
I hope you’re proud of me..
We all really love you,
And I hope the love is what you see.

My family has parted
ever since your death,
But maybe that’s how it’s meant to be,
set off for living life the best.

We will always remember you,
Just know you’re in our hearts.
We will always care for you,
We will never be apart.

Fear exists in everyone’s life. It can be great or unessential. But do you know that it disappears when you start doing what you are afraid to do instead of thinking about it? A man is able to conquer fear by only being face to face with it. We invite you to read how poets have described this experience in their short poems.

«A Sonnet Of Fear» by Jo Lynn Ehnes Allen

When life becomes a trembling world of fear,
you question every single move you make,
afraid your loving soul will disappear;
for danger looms, awaiting your mistake.
What hidden word will cause explosion’s might
to back you in a corner of despair?
Your sole reprieve lies in the ebon night,
yet anger boils from pain he wouldn’t spare.
Where love once dwelled resides a burning hate
as desperation’s hand has gained control.

No longer viewed as your eternal mate;
to save yourself becomes the utmost goal.

Envisioning a pool of crimson red;
a knife within your hand; your fear is shed.

***

«Another Fear» by Sandra Osborne

Drunk and wanting to be higher
Another drink, can’t find my smokes
Always wanting more from fire,
To much rebellion from my folk’s.

It’s hard to drink and not to care,
It’s hard to climb the loving stairs.
It’s hard to feel my love break through
Just never felt it much from you.

It’s a hardened life
In cold and pain,
It’s a lonely faith,
I feel the same.

Don’t ask me why I have to write,
So many told me “Girl, just fight”
With the inspiration flooding through,
Spilling and drowning in it’s flight.

So leave me be,
You’re not my foe,
You’re another fear,
That I don’t know.

***

«Between Fear And Courage» by Satish Verma

I visualize you all time,
my death,
A beautiful partner of my life
my redeemed ego!

Hate was not showing
its concrete face.
Love has lost the scent
and pshyche is leaving the path
of abstract truth.

Bruised, I loathe to go
in this unbridled ordeal.
Intuition or stupidity?

A spotless dialogue I dream
between fear and courage.
At end,
life can flow quietly
amidst the promises

clasping the peace, at its breast.

***

«Copied Fear» by Alessandra Liverani

Tobacco firms spend vast sums of money
To ensure their product seems sweeter than honey
A product loathsome in every way
One which must be purchased every day

You want to be like these glamorous folk
So you light a fag and begin to smoke
You feel quite safe because it tastes offensive
No need at all to feel apprehensive

You copy them as best you can
Blowing in and out like a real tough man
At first you’re just going through the motions
You haven’t found the power of this poisonous potion

Aping the actions, no problem there
It’s when you copy the fear that you must beware
Each smoker dreads his nicotine falling low
If he ain’t got none, it is such a blow

But you don’t realise what’s going on
That you’re about to be part of the biggest con
Too late, you didn’t watch your back
The fear came from behind, a stealth attack

***

«Crying Out In Fear» by Guarded Heart

My God! Don’t they hear me?
Don’t they hear me pleading?
I’m being taken away, and there is no one to help me

WHY? Why don’t they hear me?
I am screaming out in fear and yet it’s though i’m not there
I am needing, and yet no one is here

Oh lord, spare me
Send someone to save me

From my own mentality, for i shall go mad if left here

Will no one save me?
From the brutal man that holds me here
The very creator of my worst fear

He holds me here and will not let me go
He takes no heed to my pleading
He beats me into submitting

I can’t get out of here, and no has come
They no not of the reality of my fear
And my screams they did not hear

He will kill me, and i will welcome the death
For it is the only saviour that hath bothered with me
The only thing that has offered to save me

I am tainted now, no one would want me
My god forsaked me
And hell is home to me

***

«Don’T Fear Death» by Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok

Don’t fear death in earthly travels.
Don’t fear enemies or friends.
Just listen to the words of prayers,
To pass the facets of the dreads.

Your death will come to you, and never
You shall be, else, a slave of life,
Just waiting for a dawn’s favor,
From nights of poverty and strife.

She’ll build with you a common law,
One will of the Eternal Reign.
And you are not condemned to slow
And everlasting deadly pain.

***

«Fear» by Sara Teasdale

I am afraid, oh I am so afraid!
The cold black fear is clutching me to-night
As long ago when they would take the light
And leave the little child who would have prayed,
Frozen and sleepless at the thought of death.
My heart that beats too fast will rest too soon;
I shall not know if it be night or noon, —
Yet shall I struggle in the dark for breath?
Will no one fight the Terror for my sake,
The heavy darkness that no dawn will break?

How can they leave me in that dark alone,
Who loved the joy of light and warmth so much,
And thrilled so with the sense of sound and touch, —
How can they shut me underneath a stone?

***

«Fear» by Ciaran Carson

I fear the vast dimensions of eternity.
I fear the gap between the platform and the train.
I fear the onset of a murderous campaign.
1 fear the palpitations caused by too much tea.

I fear the drawn pistol of a rapparee.
I fear the books will not survive the acid rain.
I fear the ruler and the blackboard and the cane.
I fear the Jabberwock, whatever it might be.

I fear the bad decisions of a referee.
I fear the only recourse is to plead insane.
I fear the implications of a lawyer’s fee.

I fear the gremlins that have colonized my brain.
I fear to read the small print of the guarantee.
And what else do I fear? Let me begin again.

***

«Fear» by Robert William Service

I know how father’s strap would feel,
If ever I were caught,
So mother’s jam I did not steal,
Though theft was in my thought.
Then turned fourteen and full of pitch,
Of love I was afraid,
And did not dare to dally with
Our pretty parlour maid.

And so it is and always was,

The path of rectitude
I’ve followed all my life because
The Parson said I should.
The dread of hell-fire held me straight
When I was wont to stray,
And though my guts I often hate,
I walk the narrow way.

I might have been a bandit or
A Casanovish blade,

But always I have prospered for
I’ve always been afraid;
Ay, fear’s behind the best of us
And schools us for success,
And that is why I’m virtuous,
And happy – more or less.

So let me hail that mighty power
That goads me to be good,
And makes me cannily to cower
Amid foolhardihood;
Though I be criminal in gain,
My virtue a veneer,
I thank the God who keeps me sane,
And shields me from distress and pain,
And thrifts me on to golden gain,
Almighty Fear.

***

«Fear» by Christine McKeen

I stand on the shore line,
the tide washes between my toes.
I stare at the horizon before me
in a dream-like state.
I should have been prepared.
My mother once said life is more
than you want it to be.
When the sky transforms into
a water color painting,
the water washes between my knees.

My eyes fixed on the horizon.
I knew it was coming,
but I was blinded by fear
and couldn’t acknowledge it.
The moon replaces the
sun in the night sky.
The water rises to my neck.
I inform Hell, I am coming.
I shut my eyes as the salty water
rises over them.

I notice my fear has won again.
I open my eyes,
to watch the brightness of stars,
darkened by the depth of the water.
At the bottom, there is no Hell
but life.

***

«Fear» by Rachel Fogle

What causes the fear that people feel,
When there scared and have to face the truth.
What cause that fear that people feel,
When there in love and have been hurt.
What is it that there afraid to face,
When fear is at the door.
Do they think that they can just walk away and not face it head on.
Because when you turn your back on that fear,
It follow’s you night and day.
It creeps up when you least exspect it, and haunts you everyday.

Fear is just another diease that’s waiting to be cured.
But the cure is not in a bottle, a vile or a store.
The cure is made from what’s inside you.
The courage that you have.
But to use it, you must believe that fear is not all that you have.
Use what courage you can, to bring yourself forward and stand tall.
And the next time your afraid, remember fear is never far from the fall.

***

«Fear» by Jennifer Cook

My fear of is losing you,
I don’t want to lose you,
I love you more then you love me,
After all these years I think I have finally have found you,
You make smile,
I feel like I can walk a thousand miles,
In water I am free,
In the sand I sank deep,
Deep into my thoughts of you,
Fear is the biggest thing I need to overcome,

I have been trying to open up,
No more I shall cry cause you are here to wipe away the tears,
You make my frown turn upside down,
You have made me the happiest girl alive,
To live, to breathe, to make you smile,
I was a nobody but now I am somebody to you,
When I am hurt or down,
You find words to make feel okay,
I want to be in your arms,
The thoughts of you makes me smile,

I want to overcome my fear of losing you.

***

«Fear» by Ray Andrews

The forest is quiet and birds don’t sing
It’s silence the hunters bring
The long tall grass and verdant trees
Lay silent until the predators leave

A twitch in the ear betrays the deer
He’s alert and ready to run
A summer storm of danger warns
As dangerous as the sights of a gun

A man in his dreams yells and screams
In a roiling landscape of fear
The floor of an elevator fallen away
In his dream he’s lost all that’s dear

A twitch in the eye betrays a sigh
We’re alert and ready to run
Life’s big storms of danger warns
Some think of the sights of their guns

Racing heartbeats that loudly pound
It’s the fear of the battle ground
The long tall grass and verdandt trees
Are ignored till’ the demons leave

***

«Fear» by Sharon Ashworth

Shadows moving through the darkness
Black is the night for added stress
An eerie glow from the forest beyond
A silky mist rising from a nearby pond
Strange sounds echoing off the trees
The sharpness of the night’s cool breeze
Cuts through me like a razer sharp knife
I try to run for fear of my life
It’s coming closer, I can see it
I run faster and faster and try to beat it

It catches up and looms over me
I close my eyes so I cannot see
It’s breathe across my face is so thick
The smell of it makes me sick
I can no longer run and hide
I must face this fear trapped inside
I have to take a stand and hit it head on
I open my eyes and find it all gone

***

«Fear Is Not A Fault» by Alessandra Liverani

Fear is not a fault
There’s no need to lay blame
Fear is not a fault
Though it can kill and maim

Fear is not a fault
And can be overcome
Fear is not a fault
Though it’s usually not much fun

Fear can tighten around and around
Your mind needs to be gently unwound
All the wrinkles and knots smoothed away
To make for a much more enjoyable day

***

«Fear Itself Is Undefined» by Bianca Flores

I lie on my bed, soaking my pillow with my tears.
I try to remember exactly what it is that I fear.
Is it the passing of time or the love that I lack?
Is it the mistakes that I’ve made or the fact that I can’t bring the past back?
What is it that I’m afraid of?
Why am I so scared?
Is it the people I’ve hurt or the people who’ve hurt me?
Am I afraid of everything that I can’t seem to see?
Is it the love of a friend or the loss of my family?
Is it the possibility that my life can end in a tragedy?
What is it that I fear most?
What do my eyes say I’m scared of?
Is it the sun that sets but won’t seem to rise?
Is it the hope that I have that always seems to die?
Is it the trust of a person that I cannot begin to grasp?
Is it all the memories of my horrid past?
Is it me?
Can it possibly be that the thing I fear most is the thing I can’t be?
The things that I try to understand?
The me that I try to be with when I’m feeling sad?
The person I’m expected to be? Is that what I fear?
I think the thing I fear most…is me.

***

«Fear No More» by William Shakespeare

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun;
Nor the furious winter’s rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages;
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney sweepers come to dust.

Fear no more the frown of the great,
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke:
Care no more to clothe and eat;

To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dread thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan;
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!

***

«Fear Not To Love, Fear Not» by Poet Dragon

I greet the burden of your soul
and wonder if your heart is whole
when one can hold it out to share
beware of love, beware.

From all this wretched hardship take
a lesson for your wisdom’s sake
the future holds its sorrow’s share
beware of love, beware.

A last and thoughtful parting word
to one whose broken dreams are heard
take comfort in the moment here
where you can love without the fear.

Fear not to love, Fear not!

***

«Fear Of Flying» by Theresa Ann Moore

I always swore that I would never fly
Then one day I asked myself, well…why?
Inhibiting fear kept me solidly grounded
Suddenly, knots let loose; I was astounded

I realized that we all have to die eventually…
Staying tied up doesn’t give life a guarantee
Opportunities for distant travel have appeared
With a nod, I got on an airplane that I once feared

With a prayer and hopes of a safe return to land
I have flown across the sea to merry old England
After an invite to California from a close cousin
I discarded my shivers and reconnected with kin

I have memories and treasured photos of the jaunts
Luckily, I am not a deceased crash victim that haunts
Overcoming fear enabled me to overcome the miles
I have replaced the dreaded doubts with smiles

***

«Fear Of Gods, Fear Of Death» by Alice Anne Gordon

Epicurus states our responsibility.
In all my meekness and volatility,
irresolute am I to appear.
But for him it was crystal clear
His thoughts on life and death.

Religion grasps at our own docility,
plays to the masses our susceptibilities.
He was, indeed, a pioneer.
It may just be strife and breath.

Is it beyond ignorant capabilities?
To pursue a fathomed possibility
that gods are just the last frontier
In modern man: imagineer.
No need for religion that brings hostility.
The atoms resume to be life and death.

***

«Happy Birthday» by Avia Cohen

I loathe this time of year:
A time intended for celebration,
But instead I detest.
All I hear is “Happy Birthday”
From strangers with perky smiles.

I cringe at every syllable.

Another year,
A whole year older.
Why do we have this outdated ritual?
Why do we continue to mark getting close to the end?
We rejoice something rotten
With something as sweet as cake.

We indulge in a big chocolate cake
With countless pink and blue candles
And sugary white frosting.
We sing this juvenile song
At the top of our lungs,
All to masquerade our true feelings of it.

We take a deep breath
And blow out the candles,
Grinning when we blow it out in one try.

We make a wish,
Playing along with the imaginary,
Pretending as we always have.

***

«I Do Not Fear To Own Me Kin» by Robert Louis Stevenson

I DO not fear to own me kin
To the glad clods in which spring flowers begin;
Or to my brothers, the great trees,
That speak with pleasant voices in the breeze,
Loud talkers with the winds that pass;
Or to my sister, the deep grass.

Of such I am, of such my body is,
That thrills to reach its lips to kiss.
That gives and takes with wind and sun and rain

And feels keen pleasure to the point of pain.

Of such are these,
The brotherhood of stalwart trees,
The humble family of flowers,
That make a light of shadowy bowers
Or star the edges of the bent:
They give and take sweet colour and sweet scent;
They joy to shed themselves abroad;
And tree and flower and grass and sod

Thrill and leap and live and sing
With silent voices in the Spring.

Hence I not fear to yield my breath,
Since all is still unchanged by death;
Since in some pleasant valley I may be,
Clod beside clod, or tree by tree,
Long ages hence, with her I love this hour;
And feel a lively joy to share
With her the sun and rain and air,
To taste her quiet neighbourhood
As the dumb things of field and wood,
The clod, the tree, and starry flower,
Alone of all things have the power.

***

«I Thank You» by Geraldina J. Tamayo

You kept it real.
You told no lies.
I trusted your words,
And you said that it was okay to cry.
Hidden from an ocean of lies from the
People closest to me…
But you, you revealed them all.
You answered questions never asked,
And you showed no regret,
And with that I thank you!
Wishing the truth were lies,
Expecting a laugh and you telling me
That it was all a
Joke!
The truth hit me, then stabbed me, then
Killed me a thousand
Times….
I cried that night with the never ending.
Thought of the truth…
I thought I knew my life, I thought I
Understood it all…
But you opened my eyes and unwrapped
The hurtful truth…
And I thank you for being there, to hold
my hand…through it all…
And I can never thank you enough for
opening the closet of skeletons…

***

«I Wish I Knew Who I Am» by Vincent Profaci

You tell me you love me
I tell you the same
I don’t know who I am
it’s a shame it’s insane

I want to love me and you
like I love my own son
Inside I feel dead
and I’m totally numb

I prick my finger
from a rose with a thorn
A reminder that our children
are of the purest form

A mirror reflection of body we are
The more I look the more that I scar
The more that I scar the better I feel
In this crazy world that seems oh so unreal

The whole world is my stage
it helps cover my fear
For we are all merely actors
according to Shakespeare

When I speak of the truth it feels like a noose
That’s slowly stretching my neck
And then when I lie the noose opens wide
And postpones the decent to my death

I feel so amused or maybe confused
Of the thoughts that run through my head
It’s just so unfair with these thoughts I compare
My whole life I just can’t stay ahead

Is it me, is it you
Is it life, is it truth
Is it destiny or time
Is it yours, is it mine

I don’t know, but I hope it comes soon
Because it HURTS

***

«Lively Hope And Gracious Fear» by William Cowper

I was a grovelling creature once,
And basely cleaved to earth:
I wanted spirit to renounce
The clod that gave me birth.

But God hath breathed upon a worm,
And sent me from above
Wings such as clothe an angel’s form,
The wings of joy and love.

With these to Pisgah’s top I fly
And there delighted stand,
To view, beneath a shining sky,
The spacious promised land.

The Lord of all the vast domain
Has promised it to me,
The length and breadth of all the plain
As far as faith can see.

How glorious is my privilege!
To Thee for help I call;
I stand upon a mountain’s edge,
O save me, lest I fall!

Though much exalted in the Lord,
My strength is not my own;
Then let me tremble at His word,
And none shall cast me down.

***

«Loneliness» by Lily Rae

You come in waves
And suffocate me sweetly.
When I think I’m okay,
You sneak in discreetly.

Each time we meet
You wear a new face.
Always different,
You know how to greet me.

You fill me up
Just to pour me out
Into a sea full of agony
Disguised as bittersweet beauty.

My hands grow cold,
Eyes grow weary.
So sad I hurt the ones
Who love me dearly.

Nights become days,
And the days grow long,
A never-ending
Melancholy song.

***

«Look Not In My Eyes, For Fear» by Alfred Edward Housman

Look not in my eyes, for fear
Thy mirror true the sight I see,
And there you find your face too clear
And love it and be lost like me.
One the long nights through must lie
Spent in star-defeated sighs,
But why should you as well as I
Perish? gaze not in my eyes.

A Grecian lad, as I hear tell,

One that many loved in vain,
Looked into a forest well
And never looked away again.
There, when the turf in springtime flowers,
With downward eye and gazes sad,
Stands amid the glancing showers
A jonquil, not a Grecian lad.

***

«Love And Fear» by Ana Monnar

Love and fear are both so powerful
Are you able to be joyful?
Do you enjoy your honey’s passion?
To others show compassion
Love is unconditional
It is also continuously nutritional
Does infatuation lead to excitement?
Satisfaction, happiness, contentment
Bliss, delight, affection, love
Never is love neglectful of

Is fear, pain or danger?
Pain from a loved one or a stranger
Do you fear being alone
Are you concerned of the unknown?
Do you fear loosing your vanity?
Or dread loosing your sanity
Jealousy is envy of others’ possessions
Or possibly their professions
Are you fearful you might stumble?
Or exchange blows in a rumble

***

«Not Time To Worry» by K.E Lufkin

It’s not time to worry yet;
not even as screams loom above ash.
It’s not time to worry,
not even as bullets splinter glass.

It’s not time to worry yet;
though we barely make it by.
It isn’t time to worry
because it isn’t time to die.

You don’t have to worry
because you don’t have to fight.
Today it is our battle,
we haven’t gotten to the night.

It seems its always day here
because the fighting never stops.
We never go to sleep here,
we’re afraid to call the shots.

It isn’t time to worry yet;
that’s what dad said as he left.
It isn’t time to worry
but he hasn’t come back.

***

«O Fear» by Anisha Joseph

You made me run away
from those who loved me anyway.
You pushed me down into the vanity,
blindfolded me from every reality.

I thought I wasn’t good enough.
You made my existence so tough.
O fear, now I realize, it was all a bluff,
and you have already played enough.

I lost many opportunities,
and now that I am sure of my priorities,
I believe I will break through
as life always gives a next chance to you.

Remember to rise up, and it’s okay to fall.
This world around you can’t define you at all.
Be courageous, have an ambition.
Be ready to go beyond every limitation.

Building a wall of fear
will keep you in the dark forever,
keeping you unaware of
what you are capable of.

***

«Paranoia» by John Raines

I know you’re there.
Lurking in the darkness of the night,
Cowering in the shadows, avoiding the light,
Crouched behind the curtain or hid beneath the bed,
Awaiting the chance to dive into my head.

I know you’re there.
With your bloodshot eyes aglowing, never showing,
Watching me with a hunger, all the while knowing
I fear you most when the daylight’s gone,
With seemingly endless hours til morning’s dawn.

I know you’re there.
With your black heart pounding in your leathery chest,
Knowing too well I’ll get no rest
As you prowl my room like a ghostly haunt,
I know it’s my soul that you need and want.

I know you’re there.
You demon from Hell. I know you can tell
My fears are growing and beginning to swell
Like a ticking time bomb about to explode.
You sit patiently with your evils to unload.

I know you’re there.
You pitiless beast, ready to feed
On my every thought, on my every deed
I can feel you staring, glaring, carrying out your scheme
To enter my mind through an open dream.

I know you’re there.
No noise you make as you devise a plan for my soul to take
Back to the land of the living dead before I awake.
I won’t sleep, I won’t close an eye
As soon as I do I know I’ll die.

I know you’re there.

***

«Sea Of Pain & Fear» by Chris Boyles

If the sea could speak of broken heart and tears
if each wave could speak of shared pain and fears.
Will it tell of lost lives never to return home again
will it tell of sad faces sitting silently there in the rain.
Each crescendo of the waves against the rocks
feeling the pain of each life and all its hard knocks.
The rolling waves beneath the golden sunshine
the tide ebbs taking away tears of yours and mine.
Returning with the pull of the sun like a magnet
full of hope and beauty nothing does the sea regret.

For by the sea as you sit there and contemplate
will you fear no selfishness, ignorance or even hate.
As the sea breeze crosses your face and tears
so the sea beckons to take away all pain and fears.

***

«She Wears My Shoes» by Kathy Russell

She rode on my wings,
shared her dreams,
and lit my life with such a glow.
I was her protector, teacher and friend,
and will be her mother until my end
I made a lot of mistakes not knowing the cost in the end,
I never intended to hand down the same shoes my mother handed me.
But I see that is what I did. 
And crushing all her dreams.
It has been over four years since we have last spoken,
but never a day passes that I don’t send my love to the stars above,
and ask for an Angel to open up their wings
and take my place and guide her to follow all her dreams.
She will always have a place in my heart that will never be replaced,
This is how a mother’s love was always meant to be.
I hope that someday our paths will cross again,
and I can hold her in my arms
and tell her I understand better than she could ever know
I understand what I did in passing the shoes to her.
If I could take it all back, believe me I would.
But, for now it’s out of my hands.

***

«Silent Fear» by Amanda Testino

Her face in fright silently waiting,
Conscious conflicts strong enough to lose her sanity,
The feeling of guilt and responsibility,
The games they play they play silently,

She waits with lighted cigarette thinking of possibilities,
Perhaps out of existence there is a strong sense of right and wrong,
Here, all that exists are bodies blood and raw,
Afternoon comes slowly to sleep is fear,

They fight for freedom for it is better to fight and die than live under oppression and fear,
Young men waiting, survivors they are,
Perhaps they survive as the chopper comes,

Those survivors are shot, shot on the ground,
Fear of dying silently waits, you light a cigarette waiting for the break of day.

«Song: Fear Of Flying» by David Smith White

I’m trapped on an island, I know I can’t leave.
My grim fear of flying is like a disease.
Flights of the fancies, fly high and fly free;
but flights of hysteria, tremble the knees.

Bottles of water and brim jars of gel,
scare the bejesus with tall tales of hell.
Box cutters and nutters in trim apparel;
the devils and demons and all the hard sell.

I’m not a good flyer. A coward I be.
I’m hostage to panic as a cruel fate decrees.
I’m twitchy and hyper and so ill at ease,
I’m an ‘object of interest’ to airport police.

Ethnic profiling and big brother sleaze.
Mercenary spying and a degrading striptease.
The corporate surveillance that red flags the breeze;
my grim fear of flying is like a disease.

Lipstick and toothpaste and all things that smell
like the odd dirty secret, or the IM text well.
What’s next? Fly naked, so we all could just tell,
how real is the threat, that we so need dispel?

I’m not a good flyer. A coward I be.
No vestige of courage still remains to appease.
But the colours of terror are ramped up by degrees,
and my grim fear of flying is like a disease!

***

«Sonnet 9: Is It For Fear To Wet A Widow’s Eye» by William Shakespeare

Is it for fear to wet a widow’s eye,
That thou consum’st thy self in single life?
Ah, if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
The world will wail thee like a makeless wife.
The world will be thy widow and still weep,
That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
When every private widow well may keep,
By children’s eyes, her husband’s shape in mind.
Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;

But beauty’s waste hath in the world an end,
And kept unused the user so destroys it.
No love toward others in that bosom sits
That on himself such murd’rous shame commits.

***

«The Abuse» by Sammi Jo

When I was little you abused me in every way
you hurt me and didn’t care because you felt no
shame.

When I was little I didn’t know what you were
doing wasn’t okay.

When I was little I would cry myself to sleep
I would try to hide the tears and try to hide
from the pain.

Bruises all over, no more lies to cover up
now no one to talk to because of the pain.

Finally one day I came to a crossroad
do I tell or just stay hidden beneath the covers all day?

You now are in prison, but I still feel the pain
I don’t want to cry anymore because it’s tearing me
down…

So for you, dear daddy, I won’t shed another tear

the end

***

«The Fear Of Fear» by Samah Khan

Fear is not what I am afraid of.
True, it is a frightful thing to fear;
But the fear of fearing fear is overwhelming
Especially when its form becomes sheer

Fear is like losing a tree of shade on a bristling day
Or losing your breath when you fall below the sea;
I fear this fear of fearing these fears
And it is this fear that is part and parcel of me.

Fear is like loving without being loved back,
Fear is like leaving without being left;
And the fear of loving and leaving and being loved and being left
Is opposed by the fear of not fearing anything
And being an empty vase, noisy and bereft

I fear not death nor do I fear life,
But I fear the fear of both as my peers;
If I could release one fear from my fears
It would be the fear of fearing these fears.

***

«The Fear Of The Fear» by Francis Duggan

With each passing day the end of my life’s journey to me draws near
But it is not death but the fear of it that i do fear
And though the praises of a noble death the singer may sing
The fear of the fear can be a fearful thing

Whether we are buried or cremated our ashes in an urn
From Nature we came and to her we will return
We are born of a woman from the sperm of a man
And the longest lived human life of time not a long span

We all have our fears and our fears are our own
And my fear of death is fear of the unknown
Though many believe that post bodily death good souls have wings to fly
To a heavenly place somewhere beyond the sky

None will ever say of me that i did die brave
For a glorious death is something i do not crave
I was born as a mortal like the cow or the sheep
And i hope for to die without pain as i sleep.

***

«The Hunter Of Utterance Of Destruction» by Bet Dotson

He’s the hunter of utterance of destruction
He sleeps when I’m awake
I long to hear him whisper
To give my ears a break

His tongue is a loaded gun
Its barrel as cold as ice
And late at night when I am sleeping
His bullets strike me twice

His throat is stuck with reason
As he pulls back on his bow
He listens for a heartbeat
A sound he yearns to know

He’s the hunter of utterance of  destruction
His target is a life
And when he sees me breathing
He sharpens every knife

His finger’s on the trigger
As I’m reaching for a pail
For all my blood to drain into
For to quench him in his hell

He’s the hunter of utterance of destruction
In confidence he soars
With every word that’s uttered
Through every vein that pours

There’s too much information
Too much noise in his brain
Then he digs a grave to put me in
When he sees that I’ve been slain

He’s the hunter of utterance of  destruction
His voice is dark and deep
And death is all around him
When his words have gone to sleep

***

«The Secrets We Hide» by Tiffany Franklin

We struggle to have meaning
in this world, which we all know.
We try, but yet we wonder
where we all should go.
Hidden in the questions,
we cannot find
the answers. They’re are all hidden
deep inside our minds.
Hidden in our soul
is the life we try to hide,
but in time it will find you,
and it will release
all of its secrets hidden beneath,
so before it ruins the life you have made,
release those dark secrets,
and the memories will fade.
Hidden in our lives are stories left untold
of the things we didn’t want them to know,
but once you tell somebody
and make your feelings known,
the struggle will be over
and you’ll finally be home.

***

«The Way I Fear» by Robert Rorabeck

The way I fear
Her hand enjoys being held
In the nest of his fingers….
The way I fear
Her eyes make wishes to
See his reflection attracted
Toward her,
Like skipping stones
On a lake nearby he lies her down….
The way I fear

The conjunction of their lips,
The hybrid adjective expressing
The way they feel….
The way I fear
The secret compression of love’s
Bodies entwining the chains
Of their swings together
As they kiss….
The way I fear the pact
Between lovers

The new seasons in which
She grows away from me
To meet him by the old
Aqueduct clothed in mussels
And green algae
Glowing, the only light
That lies upon two bodies,
Taking a tumble on the whispering beach
The finest sport of humanity
That for its while defeats Death,
The silenced, senseless body
In the coffin
With it’s name in stone no one
Remembers
The way I fear

***

«Traffic Light» by Linda Grantham

This traffic light inside my head
Is always green and never red.
My thoughts, my dreams, and all my fears,
They all speed past my listening ears.

I close my eyes to block it out,
But inside my head they rush about.
I take a breath to slow it down,
But upon my face appears a frown.

My heart beats fast,
But my breathing slows.
I breathe in life
Then out it goes.

My body’s numb,
Yet I feel my tears.
I’ve lost count of the days,
The months, and the years.

This traffic light
Inside my head…
I’m scared of the day
When it turns red.

***

«Twinkle, Twinkle Little Fear» by Hanna Eardley

Fear is the strangest thing,
as it comes from within our heads.
But that don’t stop it tucking us in
when we’re safe within our beds.

What is it that you fear the most?
Is it the dark or lightning strikes?
What is it that you fear the most?
Is it the water, the greatest of heights?

For me, my biggest fear would be
losing that thing that we call “light.”
Not in the sense of being in dark,
but the kind that helps you fight.

That light you find within your eye,
the one that makes it twinkle…
That would be my biggest fear,
not to have that ’round to sprinkle.

I have used it on many a time
to pull myself back from the brink.
It scares me that one day I’ll need it
but it won’t be there, you think?

When I think of when I’ve used it,
I don’t see where the victim has been.
I see the end, when I climbed back out.
I see the strength that I found within.

But the twinkle is where it came from.
One day, lookin’ in the mirror to see,
passed the spots and the wrinkles,
to that twinkle staring back at me.

It is the twinkle that has lit my soul.
It’s the twinkle that showed my way.
Every time I had laid down to die,
that twinkle gave me another day.

So, without it would I notice
the person who hides in crowds?
Without that light to guide me,
would I end up amongst the clouds?

I fear that one day my twinkle
will cease to appear to me.
I fear that one day my twinkle
will not be there to help me see.

I fear I will have used it up
and that you only get so much.
And one day, when I need it again,
it won’t be there to use as such.

So, that would be my biggest fear,
to wake up one day to find
that I’ve used up all my twinkle,
and I’d stay trapped within my mind.

***

«Waiting For Truth» by Lilli Janzen

Wait, you say, but I want to know.
Wait, you say, but it’s just so slow.
Do I need to live with the questions
Or simply wait for your confession?

Who are you really in your mind?
Is it the key I need to find?
Do I accurately read your face,
Or is your grin quite out of place?

These answers won’t just come too soon,
And I just wonder how many moons.
You’ll keep me deeply in suspense,
Inviting questions more intense.

You have your reasons, I can tell
But waiting seems a living hell.
But I’m afraid to know the truth,
And knowing this I feel abused.

I know that rushing does no good,
And patience just may prove it would
Help me live with the unknown
Until the truth will then be known.

But truth arrives with revelation
That makes us contemplate our station.
Sometimes it’s better just to wait
Till we are fit to change our state.

May Spirit help us in our quest
To hear and understand the rest.
Once we are clear to know the truth
Life will advance and be more smooth.

Children’s poems accompany us all our lives… First, we listen to them with a sinking heart, then we are pleased to read them to our children and grandchildren. Poems for kids are easy to read aloud and simple to comprehend. Good poems for children teach them kindness, mutual understanding, respect for adults and friends, as well as care for the world around them

«Allie» by Robert Graves

Allie, call the birds in,
  The birds from the sky.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
  Down they all fly.
First there came
Two white doves
  Then a sparrow from his nest,
Then a clucking bantam hen,
  Then a robin red-breast.

Allie, call the beasts in,
  The beasts, every one.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
  In they all run.
First there came
Two black lambs,
  Then a grunting Berkshire sow,
Then a dog without a tail,
  Then a red and white cow.

Allie, call the fish up,
  The fish from the stream.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
  Up they all swim.
First there came
Two gold fish,
  A minnow and a miller’s thumb,
Then a pair of loving trout,
  Then the twisted eels come.

Allie, call the children,
  Children from the green.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
  Soon they run in.
First there came
Tom and Madge,
  Kate and I who’ll not forget
How we played by the water’s edge
  Till the April sun set.

«Bed In Summer» by Robert Louis Stevenson

In Winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle light.
In Summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people’s feet
Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

***

«Being Brave At Night» by Edgar Guest

The other night ’bout two o’clock, or maybe it was three,
An elephant with shining tusks came chasing after me.
His trunk was wavin’ in the air an’  spoutin’ jets of steam
An’ he was out to eat me up, but still I didn’t scream
Or let him see that I was scared – a better thought I had,
I just escaped from where I was and crawled in bed with dad.

One time there was a giant who was horrible to see,
He had three heads and twenty arms, an’ he came after me
And red hot fire came from his mouths and every hand was red
And he declared he’d grind my bones and make them into bread.
But I was just too smart for him, I fooled him might bad,
Before his hands could collar me I crawled in bed with dad.

I ain’t scared of nothin that comes pesterin’ me at night.
Once I was chased by forty ghosts all shimmery an’ white.
An’ I just raced ’em round the room an’ let ’em think maybe
I’d have to stop an’ rest awhile, when they could capture me.
Then when they leapt onto my bed, Oh Gee! But they were mad
To find that I had slipped away an’ crawled in bed with dad.

No giants, ghosts or elephants have dared to come in there
‘Coz if they did he’d beat ’em up and chase ’em to their lair.
They just hang ’round the children’s rooms
an’ snap an’ snarl an’ bite
An’ laugh if they can make ’em yell
for help with all their might.
But I don’t ever yell out loud. I’m not that sort of lad,
I slip from out the covers and I crawl in bed with dad.

***

«Dirty Face» by Shel Silverstein

Where did you get such a dirty face,
My darling dirty-faced child?
I got it from crawling along in the dirt
And biting two buttons off Jeremy’s shirt.
I got it from chewing the roots of a rose
And digging for clams in the yard with my nose.
I got it from peeking into a dark cave
And painting myself like a Navajo brave.
I got it from playing with coal in the bin
And signing my name in cement with my chin.
I got if from rolling around on the rug
And giving the horrible dog a big hug.
I got it from finding a lost silver mine
And eating sweet blackberries right off the vine.
I got it from ice cream and wrestling and tears
And from having more fun than you’ve had in years.

***

«Elaine The Complainer» by Kenn Nesbitt

My name is Elaine
and I like to complain.
Complaining is all that I do.
I moan when it’s hot
and I groan when it’s not.
I whine when the sky is too blue.

I fuss that the food
on my plate must be chewed.
I whimper whenever I clean.
I frequently fret
if my bath gets me wet.
I gripe if the grass is too green.

I act like my brain
is in terrible pain
when people are being polite.
But then, if they’re rude,
it will ruin my mood;
I’ll grumble and mumble all night.

But though I delight
in complaining all night,
there’s one thing I simply can’t see.
I don’t understand
(since I’m clearly so grand)
why people complain about me.

***

«Friends» by Abbie Farwell Brown

How good to lie a little while
And look up through the tree!
The Sky is like a kind big smile
Bent sweetly over me.

The Sunshine flickers through the lace
Of leaves above my head,
And kisses me upon the face
Like Mother, before bed.

The Wind comes stealing o’er the grass
To whisper pretty things;
And though I cannot see him pass,
I feel his careful wings.

So many gentle Friends are near
Whom one can scarcely see,
A child should never feel a fear,
Wherever he may be.

***

«From A Railway Carriage» by Robert Louis Stevenson

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And here is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart runaway in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill, and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone forever!

***

«Halfway Down» by A. A. Milne

Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn’t any
Other stair
Quite like
It.
I’m not at the bottom,
I’m not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.

Halfway up the stairs
Isn’t up
And isn’t down.
It isn’t in the nursery,
It isn’t in the town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head.
It isn’t really
Anywhere!
It’s somewhere else
Instead!

***

«Homework Stew» by Kenn Nesbitt

I cooked my math book in a broth
and stirred it to a steaming froth.
I threw in papers—pencils, too—
to make a pot of homework stew.

I turned the flame up nice and hot
and tossed my binder in the pot.
I sprinkled in my book report
with colored markers by the quart.

Despite its putrid, noxious gas,
I proudly took my stew to class.
And though the smell was so grotesque,
I set it on my teacher’s desk.

My teacher said, “You’re quite a chef.
But, still, you’re going to get an F.
I didn’t ask for ‘homework stew,’
I said, ‘Tomorrow, homework’s due.’”

***

«I Can’t Wait For Summer» by Kenn Nesbitt

I can’t wait for summer, when school days are done,
to spend the days playing outside in the sun.
I won’t have to study. No homework, no tests.
Just afternoons spent on adventures and quests.
Instead of mathematics and writing reports,
I’ll go to the park and play summertime sports.
Instead of assignments, report cards, and grades,
I’ll get to play baseball and watch the parades.
I’ll swing on the playground. I’ll swim in the pool
instead of just practicing lessons in school.
The second the school year is finally done
I’ll spend every minute with friends having fun.
I hardly can wait for the end of the year.
I’m counting the days until summer is here.
It’s hard to be patient. It’s hard to be cool.
It’s hard to believe it’s the first day of school.

***

«I’d Love To Be A Fairy’s Child» by Robert Graves

Children born of fairy stock
Never need for shirt or frock,
Never want for food or fire,
Always get their heart’s desire:
Jingle pockets full of gold,
Marry when they’re seven years old.
Every fairy child may keep
Two strong ponies and ten sheep;
All have houses, each his own,
Built of brick or granite stone;
They live on cherries, they run wild–
I’d love to be a Fairy’s child.

***

«If I Were King» by A. A. Milne

I often wish I were a King,
And then I could do anything.

If only I were King of Spain,
I’d take my hat off in the rain.

If only I were King of France,
I wouldn’t brush my hair for aunts.

I think, if I were King of Greece,
I’d push things off the mantelpiece.

If I were King of Norroway,
I’d ask an elephant to stay.

If I were King of Babylon,
I’d leave my button gloves undone.

If I were King of Timbuctoo,
I’d think of lovely things to do.

If I were King of anything,
I’d tell the soldiers, “I’m the King!”

***

«Lester» by Shel Silverstein

Lester was given a magic wish
By the goblin who lives in the banyan tree,
And with his wish he wished for two more wishes-
So now instead of just one wish, he cleverly had three.
And with each one of these
He simply wished for three more wishes,
Which gave him three old wishes, plus nine new.
And with each of these twelve
He slyly wished for three more wishes,
Which added up to forty-six — or is it fifty-two?
Well anyway, he used each wish
To wish for wishes ’til he had
Five billion, seven million, eighteen thousand thirty-four.
And then he spread them on the ground
And clapped his hands and danced around
And skipped and sang, and then sat down
And wished for more.
And more…and more…they multiplied
While other people smiled and cried
And loved and reached and touched and felt.
Lester sat amid his wealth
Stacked mountain-high like stacks of gold,
Sat and counted — and grew old.
And then one Thursday night they found him
Dead — with his wishes piled around him.
And they counted the lot and found that not
A single one was missing.
All shiny and new — here, take a few
And think of Lester as you do.
In a world of apples and kisses and shoes
He wasted his wishes on wishing.

***

«Let Me Out Of The Class» by Kenn Nesbitt

(sing to the tune of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”)

Let me out of the classroom.
Let me out of the school.
I’m not so good at geography.
I would rather be watching T.V.

It’s still twenty minutes till recess.
Lunch is hours away.
Won’t you please, please, please get me out
of the class today?

Someone’s here with a note now.
Teacher’s calling my name.
He says my mother is right outside.
I should go and she’ll give me a ride

to my yearly dentist appointment.
I forgot it’s today!
Teacher please, please, please help me out.
Won’t you let me stay?

***

«Life Doesn’t Frighten Me» by Maya Angelou

Shadows on the wall
Noises down the hall
Life doesn’t frighten me at all

Bad dogs barking loud
Big ghosts in a cloud
Life doesn’t frighten me at all

Mean old Mother Goose
Lions on the loose
They don’t frighten me at all

Dragons breathing flame
On my counterpane
That doesn’t frighten me at all.

I go boo
Make them shoo
I make fun
Way they run
I won’t cry
So they fly
I just smile
They go wild

Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Tough guys fight
All alone at night
Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Panthers in the park
Strangers in the dark
No, they don’t frighten me at all.

That new classroom where
Boys all pull my hair
(Kissy little girls
With their hair in curls)
They don’t frighten me at all.

Don’t show me frogs and snakes
And listen for my scream,
If I’m afraid at all
It’s only in my dreams.

I’ve got a magic charm
That I keep up my sleeve
I can walk the ocean floor
And never have to breathe.

Life doesn’t frighten me at all
Not at all
Not at all.

Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

***

«Listen To The MUSTN’TS» by Shel Silverstein

Listen to the MUSTN’TS, child,
Listen to the DON’TS
Listen to the SHOULDN’TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WONT’S
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me-
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be

***

«Maggie And Milly And Molly And May» by E.E. Cummings

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

***

«Morning Prayer» by Ogden Nash

Now another day is breaking,
Sleep was sweet and so is waking.
Dear Lord, I promised you last night
Never again to sulk or fight.
Such vows are easier to keep
When a child is sound asleep.
Today, O Lord, for your dear sake,
I’ll try to keep them when awake.

***

«My Shadow» by Robert Louis Stevenson

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest things about him is the way he likes to grow-
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an India rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.
He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see;
I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

***

«Now We Are Six» by A. A. Milne

When I was One,
I had just begun.
When I was Two,
I was nearly new.
When I was Three
I was hardly me.
When I was Four,
I was not much more.
When I was Five,
I was just alive.
But now I am Six,
I’m as clever as clever,
So I think I’ll be six now for ever and ever.

***

«Prairie-Dog Town» by Mary Hunter Austin

Old Peter Prairie-dog
Builds him a house
In Prairie-Dog Town,
With a door that goes down
And down and down,
And a hall that goes under
And under and under,
Where you can’t see the lightning,
You can’t hear the thunder,
For they don’t like thunder
In Prairie-Dog Town.

Old Peter Prairie-Dog
Digs him a cellar
In Prairie-Dog Town,
With a ceiling that is arched
And a wall that is round,
And the earth he takes out he makes into a mound.
And the hall and the cellar
Are dark as dark,
And you can’t see a spark,
Not a single spark;
And the way to them cannot be found.

Old Peter Prairie-Dog
Knows a very clever trick
Of behaving like a stick
When he hears a sudden sound,
Like an old dead stick;
And when you turn your head
He’ll jump quick, quick,
And be another stick
When you look around.
It is a clever trick,
And it keeps him safe and sound
In the cellar and the halls
That are under the mound
In Prairie-Dog Town.

***

«Puppy And I» by A. A. Milne

I met a Man as I went walking:
We got talking,
Man and I.
“Where are you going to, Man?” I said
  (I said to the Man as he went by).
“Down to the village, to get some bread.
  Will you come with me?” “No, not I.”

I met a horse as I went walking;
We got talking,
Horse and I.
“Where are you going to, Horse, today?”
  (I said to the Horse as he went by).
“Down to the village to get some hay.
  Will you come with me?” “No, not I.”

I met a Woman as I went walking;
We got talking,
Woman and I.
“Where are you going to, Woman, so early?”
  (I said to the Woman as she went by).
“Down to the village to get some barley.
  Will you come with me?” “No, not I.”

I met some Rabbits as I went walking;
We got talking,
Rabbits and I.
“Where are you going in your brown fur coats?”
  (I said to the Rabbits as they went by).
“Down to the village to get some oats.
  Will you come with us?” “No, not I.”

I met a Puppy as I went walking;
We got talking,
Puppy and I.
“Where are you going this nice fine day?”
  (I said to the Puppy as he went by).
“Up to the hills to roll and play.”
“I’ll come with you, Puppy,” said I.

***

«Rathers» by Mary Hunter Austin

I know very well what I’d rather be
If I didn’t always have to be me!
I’d rather be an owl,
A downy feathered owl,
A wink-ity, blink-ity, yellow-eyed owl
In a hole in a hollow tree.
I’d take my dinner in chipmunk town,
And wouldn’t I gobble the field mice down,
If I were a wink-ity, blink-ity owl,
And didn’t always have to be me!

I know very well what I’d like to do
If I didn’t have to do what I do!
I’d go and be a woodpecker,
A rap-ity, tap-ity, red-headed woodpecker
In the top of a tall old tree.
And I’d never take a look
At a lesson or a book,
And I’d scold like a pirate on the sea,
If I only had to do what I like to do,
And didn’t always have to be me!

Or else I’d be an antelope,
A pronghorned antelope,
With lots of other antelope
Skimming like a cloud on a wire-grass plian.
A bounding, bouncing antelope,
You’d never get me back to my desk again!

Or I might be a puma,
A singe-colored puma,
A slinking, sly-foot puma
As fierce as fierce could be!
And I’d wait by the waterholes where antelope drink
In the cool of the morning
And I do
              not
                    think
That ever any antelope could get away from me.

But if I were a hunter,
A red Indian hunter –
I’d like to be a hunter, –
I’d have a bow made of juniper wood
From a lightning-blasted tree,
And I’d creep and I’d creep on that puma asleep
A flint tipped arrow,
An eagle feathered arrow,
For a puma kills calves and a puma kills sheep,
And he’d never eat any more antelope
If he once met up with me!

***

«Sick» by Shel Silverstein

“I cannot go to school today,”
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more–that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut–my eyes are blue–
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke–
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is–what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play!”

***

«Sneezles» by A. A. Milne

Christopher Robin
Had wheezles
And sneezles,
They bundled him
Into
His bed.
They gave him what goes
With a cold in the nose,
And some more for a cold
In the head.
They wondered
If wheezles
Could turn
Into measles,
If sneezles
Would turn
Into mumps;
They examined his chest
For a rash,
And the rest
Of his body for swellings and lumps.
They sent for some doctors
In sneezles
And wheezles
To tell them what ought
To be done.
All sorts and conditions
Of famous physicians
Came hurrying round
At a run.
They all made a note
Of the state of his throat,
They asked if he suffered from thirst;
They asked if the sneezles
Came after the wheezles,
Or if the first sneezle
Came first.
They said, “If you teazle
A sneezle
Or wheezle,
A measle
May easily grow.
But humour or pleazle
The wheezle
Or sneezle,
The measle
Will certainly go.”
They expounded the reazles
For sneezles
And wheezles,
The manner of measles
When new.
They said “If he freezles
In draughts and in breezles,
Then PHTHEEZLES
May even ensue.”

Christopher Robin
Got up in the morning,
The sneezles had vanished away.
And the look in his eye
Seemed to say to the sky,
“Now, how to amuse them to-day?”

***

«Snowball» by Shel Silverstein

I made myself a snowball
As perfect as could be.
I thought I’d keep it as a pet
And let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas
And a pillow for its head.
Then last night it ran away,
But first it wet the bed.

***

«Springy Sidewalk» by Kenn Nesbitt

The people outside on the sidewalk
can’t seem to remain on the ground.
They’re jumping and hopping and springing,
and generally bouncing around.

I’ve never seen anything like it.
It’s such an unusual scene,
as if they have springs in their sneakers,
or bounce on a big trampoline.

I think I know what may have happened
that caused this chaotic event:
Last week they replaced our old sidewalk
with one made of rubber cement!

***

«Story Telling» by Edgar Guest

Most every night when they’re in bed,
And both their little prayers have said,
They shout for me to come upstairs
And tell them tales of gypsies bold,
And eagles with the claws that hold
A baby’s weight, and fairy sprites
That roam the woods on starry nights.

And I must illustrate these tales,
Must imitate the northern gales
That toss the native man’s canoe,
And show the way he paddles, too.
If in the story comes a bear,
I have to pause and sniff the air
And show the way he climbs the trees
To steal the honey from the bees.

And then I buzz like angry bees
And sting him on his nose and knees
And howl in pain, till mother cries:
“That pair will never shut their eyes,
While all that noise up there you make;
You’re simply keeping them awake.”
And then they whisper: “Just one more,”
And once again I’m forced to roar.

New stories every night they ask.
And that is not an easy task;
I have to be so many things,
The frog that croaks, the lark that sings,
The cunning fox, the frightened hen;
But just last night they stumped me, when
They wanted me to twist and squirm
And imitate an angle worm.

At last they tumble off to sleep,
And softly from their room I creep
And brush and comb the shock of hair
I tossed about to be a bear.
Then mother says: “Well, I should say
You’re just as much a child as they.”
But you can bet I’ll not resign
That story telling job of mine.

***

«Teddy Bear» by A. A. Milne

A bear, however hard he tries,
Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
Which is not to be wondered at;
He gets what exercise he can
By falling off the ottoman,
But generally seems to lack
The energy to clamber back.

Now tubbiness is just the thing
Which gets a fellow wondering;
And Teddy worried lots about
The fact that he was rather stout.
He thought: “If only I were thin!
But how does anyone begin?”
He thought: “It really isn’t fair
To grudge me exercise and air.”

For many weeks he pressed in vain
His nose against the window-pane,
And envied those who walked about
Reducing their unwanted stout.
None of the people he could see
“Is quite” (he said) “as fat as me!”
Then with a still more moving sigh,
“I mean” (he said) “as fat as I!”

Now Teddy, as was only right,
Slept in the ottoman at night,
And with him crowded in as well
More animals than I can tell;
Not only these, but books and things,
Such as a kind relation brings –
Old tales of “Once upon a time”,
And history retold in rhyme.

One night it happened that he took
A peep at an old picture-book,
Wherein he came across by chance
The picture of a King of France
(A stoutish man) and, down below,
These words: “King Louis So and So,
Nicknamed ‘The Handsome!’ ” There he sat,
And (think of it) the man was fat!

Our bear rejoiced like anything
To read about this famous King,
Nicknamed the “Handsome.” Not a doubt
The man was definitely stout.
Why then, a bear (for all his tub)
Might yet be named “The Handsome Cub!”

“Might yet be named.” Or did he mean
That years ago he “might have been”?
For now he felt a slight misgiving:
“Is Louis So and So still living?
Fashions in beauty have a way
Of altering from day to day.
Is ‘Handsome Louis’ with us yet?
Unfortunately I forget.”

Next morning (nose to window-pane)
The doubt occurred to him again.
One question hammered in his head:
“Is he alive or is he dead?”
Thus, nose to pane, he pondered; but
The lattice window, loosely shut,
Swung open. With one startled “Oh!”
Our Teddy disappeared below.

There happened to be passing by
A plump man with a twinkling eye,
Who, seeing Teddy in the street,
Raised him politely on his feet,
And murmured kindly in his ear
Soft words of comfort and of cheer:
“Well, well!” “Allow me!” “Not at all.”
“Tut-tut!” A very nasty fall.”

Our Teddy answered not a word;
It’s doubtful if he even heard.
Our bear could only look and look:
The stout man in the picture-book!
That “handsome” King – could this be he,
This man of adiposity?
“Impossible,” he thought. “But still,
No harm in asking. Yes, I will!”

“Are you,” he said, “by any chance
His Majesty the King of France?”
The other answered, “I am that,”
Bowed stiffly, and removed his hat;
Then said, “Excuse me,” with an air
“But is it Mr. Edward Bear?”
And Teddy, bending very low,
Replied politely, “Even so!”

They stood beneath the window there,
The King and Mr. Edward Bear,
And, handsome, if a trifle fat,
Talked carelessly of this and that …
Then said His Majesty, “Well, well,
I must get on,” and rang the bell.
“Your bear, I think,” he smiled. “Good-day!”
And turned, and went upon his way.

A bear, however hard he tries,
Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
Which is not to be wondered at.
But do you think it worries him
To know that he is far from slim?
No, just the other way about –
He’s proud of being short and stout.

***

«The Fisherman» by Abbie Farwell Brown

The fisherman goes out at dawn
When every one’s abed,
And from the bottom of the sea
Draws up his daily bread.

His life is strange ; half on the shore
And half upon the sea —
Not quite a fish, and yet not quite
The same as you and me.

The fisherman has curious eyes ;
They make you feel so queer,
As if they had seen many things
Of wonder and of fear.

They’re like the sea on foggy days, —
Not gray, nor yet quite blue ;
They ‘re like the wondrous tales he tells
Not quite — yet maybe — true.

He knows so much of boats and tides,
Of winds and clouds and sky !
But when I tell of city things,
He sniffs and shuts one eye !

***

«The Good Little Boy» by Edgar Guest

Once there was a boy who never
Tore his clothes, or hardly ever,
Never made his sister mad,
Never whipped fer bein’ bad,
Never scolded by his Ma,
Never frowned at by his Pa,
Always fit fer folks to see,
Always good as good could be.

This good little boy from Heaven,
So I’m told, was only seven,
Yet he never shed real tears
When his mother scrubbed his ears,
An’ at times when he was dressed
Fer a party, in his best,
He was careful of his shirt
Not to get it smeared with dirt.

Used to study late at night,
Learnin’ how to read an’ write;
When he played a baseball game,
Right away he always came
When his mother called him in.
An’ he never made a din
But was quiet as a mouse
when they’d comp’ny in the house.

Liked to wash his hands an’ face,
Liked to work around the place;
Never, when he’d tired of play,
Left his wagon in the way,
Or his bat an’ ball around–
Put ’em where they could be found;
An’ that good boy married Ma,
An’ to-day he is my Pa.

***

«The Land Of Nod» by Robert Louis Stevenson

From breakfast on through all the day
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad
Afar into the land of Nod.
All by myself I have to go,
With none to tell me what to do–
All alone beside the streams
And up the mountain-sides of dreams.
The strangest things are these for me,
Both things to eat and things to see,
And many frightening sights abroad
Till morning in the land of Nod.
Try as I like to find the way,
I never can get back by day,
Nor can remember plain and clear
The curious music that I hear.

***

«The Moon» by Robert Louis Stevenson

The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;
She shines on thieves on the garden wall,
On streets and fields and harbour quays,
And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.

The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,
The howling dog by the door of the house,
The bat that lies in bed at noon,
All love to be out by the light of the moon.

But all of the things that belong to the day
Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way;
And flowers and children close their eyes
Till up in the morning the sun shall arise.

***

«The Mountain And The Squirrel» by Ralph Waldo Emerson

The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel,
And the former called the latter
“Little prig.”
Bun replied,
“You are doubtless very big;
But all sorts of things and weather
Must be taken in together
To make up a year
And a sphere.
And I think it no disgrace
To occupy my place.
If I’m not so large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry:
I’ll not deny you make
A very pretty squirrel track.
Talents differ; all is well and wisely put;
If I cannot carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut.”

***

«The Owl And The Pussy-Cat» by Edward Lear

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
   In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
   Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
   And sang to a small guitar,
“O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
    What a beautiful Pussy you are,
         You are,
         You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!”

Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl!
   How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
   But what shall we do for a ring?”
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
   To the land where the Bong-Tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
   With a ring at the end of his nose,
             His nose,
             His nose,
   With a ring at the end of his nose.

“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
   Your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.”
So they took it away, and were married next day
   By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
   Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
   They danced by the light of the moon,
             The moon,
             The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

***

«The Rainbow» by Christina Rossetti

Boats sail on the rivers,
  And ships sail on the seas;
But clouds that sail across the sky
  Are prettier far than these.

There are bridges on the rivers,
  As pretty as you please;
But the bow that bridges heaven,
  And overtops the trees,
And builds a road from earth to sky,
  Is prettier far than these.

***

«The Shut-Eye Train» by Eugene Field

Come, my little one, with me!
There are wondrous sights to see
As the evening shadows fall;
In your pretty cap and gown,
Don’t detain
The Shut-Eye train –
“Ting-a-ling!” the bell it goeth,
“Toot-toot!” the whistle bloweth,
And we hear the warning call:
“All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!”

Over hill and over plain
Soon will speed the Shut-Eye train!
Through the blue where bloom the stars
And the Mother Moon looks down
We’ll away
To land of Fay –
Oh, the sights that we shall see there!
Come, my little one, with me there –
‘T is a goodly train of cars –
All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!

Swifter than a wild bird’s flight,
Through the realms of fleecy light
We shall speed and speed away!
Let the Night in envy frown –
What care we
How wroth she be!
To the Balow-land above us,
To the Balow-folk who love us,
Let us hasten while we may –
All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!

Shut-Eye Town is passing fair –
Golden dreams await us there;
We shall dream those dreams, my dear,
Till the Mother Moon goes down –
See unfold
Delights untold!
And in those mysterious places
We shall see beloved faces
And beloved voices hear
In the grace of Shut-Eye Town.

Heavy are your eyes, my sweet,
Weary are your little feet –
Nestle closer up to me
In your pretty cap and gown;
Don’t detain
The Shut-Eye train!
“Ting-a-ling!” the bell it goeth,
“Toot-toot!” the whistle bloweth
Oh, the sights that we shall see!
All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!

***

«The Spider And The Fly» by Mary Howitt

“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the spider to the fly;
“‘Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you may spy.
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to show when you are there.”
“Oh no, no,” said the little fly; “to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.”

“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high.
Well you rest upon my little bed?” said the spider to the fly.
“There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest a while, I’ll snugly tuck you in!”
“Oh no, no,” said the little fly, “for I’ve often heard it said,
They never, never wake again who sleep upon your bed!”

Said the cunning spider to the fly: “Dear friend, what can I do
To prove the warm affection I’ve always felt for you?
I have within my pantry good store of all that’s nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome – will you please to take a slice?”
“Oh no, no,” said the little fly; “kind sir, that cannot be:
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!”

“Sweet creature!” said the spider, “you’re witty and you’re wise;
How handsome are your gauzy wings; how brilliant are your eyes!
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf;
If you’d step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.”
“I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “for what you’re pleased to say,
And, bidding you good morning now, I’ll call another day.”

The spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back again:
So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready to dine upon the fly;
Then came out to his door again and merrily did sing:
“Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple; there’s a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!”

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer grew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes and green and purple hue,
Thinking only of her crested head. Poor, foolish thing! at last
Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast;
He dragged her up his winding stair, into the dismal den –
Within his little parlor – but she ne’er came out again!

And now, dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words I pray you ne’er give heed;
Unto an evil counselor close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale of the spider and the fly.

***

«The Sugar-Plum Tree» by Eugene Field

Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?
‘Tis a marvel of great renown!
It blooms on the shore of the Lollypop sea
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town;
The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet
(As those who have tasted it say)
That good little children have only to eat
Of that fruit to be happy next day.

When you’ve got to the tree, you would have a hard time
To capture the fruit which I sing;
The tree is so tall that no person could climb
To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing!
But up in that tree sits a chocolate cat,
And a gingerbread dog prowls below –
And this is the way you contrive to get at
Those sugar-plums tempting you so:

You say but the word to that gingerbread dog
And he barks with such terrible zest
That the chocolate cat is at once all agog,
As her swelling proportions attest.
And the chocolate cat goes cavorting around
From this leafy limb unto that,
And the sugar-plums tumble, of course, to the ground –
Hurrah for that chocolate cat!

There are marshmallows, gumdrops, and peppermint canes,
With stripings of scarlet or gold,
And you carry away of the treasure that rains,
As much as your apron can hold!
So come, little child, cuddle closer to me
In your dainty white nightcap and gown,
And I’ll rock you away to that Sugar-Plum Tree
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town.

***

«The Swing» by Robert Louis Stevenson

How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!

Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside–

Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown–
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!

***

«Theme In Yellow» by Carl Sandburg

I spot the hills
With yellow balls in autumn.
I light the prairie cornfields
Orange and tawny gold clusters
And I am called pumpkins.
On the last of October
When dusk is fallen
Children join hands
And circle round me
Singing ghost songs
And love to the harvest moon;
I am a jack-o’-lantern
With terrible teeth
And the children know
I am fooling.

***

«Vespers» by A. A. Milne

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

God bless Mummy. I know that’s right.
Wasn’t it fun in the bath to-night?
The cold’s so cold, and the hot’s so hot.
Oh! God bless Daddy – I quite forgot.

If I open my fingers a little bit more,
I can see Nanny’s dressing-gown on the door.
It’s a beautiful blue, but it hasn’t a hood.
Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good.

Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed,
And pull the hood right over my head,
And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small,
And nobody knows that I’m there at all.

Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day.
And what was the other I had to say?
I said “Bless Daddy,” so what can it be?
Oh! Now I remember it. God bless Me.

Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed,
Droops on the little hands little gold head.
Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!
Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.

***

«Waiting At The Window» by A. A. Milne

These are my two drops of rain
Waiting on the window-pane.

I am waiting here to see
Which the winning one will be.

Both of them have different names.
One is John and one is James.

All the best and all the worst
Comes from which of them is first.

James has just begun to ooze.
He’s the one I want to lose.

John is waiting to begin.
He’s the one I want to win.

James is going slowly on.
Something sort of sticks to John.

John is moving off at last.
James is going pretty fast.

John is rushing down the pane.
James is going slow again.

James has met a sort of smear.
John is getting very near.

Is he going fast enough?
(James has found a piece of fluff.)

John has quickly hurried by.
(James was talking to a fly.)

John is there, and John has won!
Look! I told you! Here’s the sun!

***

«What Is Pink?» by Christina Rossetti

What is pink? A rose is pink
By the fountain’s brink.
What is red? A poppy’s red
In its barley bed.
What is blue? The sky is blue
Where the clouds float through.
What is white? A swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? Pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? The grass is green,
With small flowers between.
What is violet? Clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? Why, an orange,
Just an orange!

***

«Wind On The Hill» by A. A. Milne

No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.

It’s flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn’t keep up with it,
Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.

And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.

***

«Won’t You? » by Shel Silverstein

Barbara’s eyes are blue as azure,
But she is in love with Freddy.
Karen’s sweet, but Harry has her.
Gentle Jane is going steady.
Carol hates me. So does May.
Abigail will not be mine.
Nancy lives too far away…
Won’t you be my Valentine?

***

«Wynken, Blynken, And Nod» by Eugene Field

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
   Sailed off in a wooden shoe,—
Sailed on a river of crystal light
   Into a sea of dew.
“Where are you going, and what do you wish?”
   The old moon asked the three.
“We have come to fish for the herring-fish
   That live in this beautiful sea;
   Nets of silver and gold have we,”
            Said Wynken,
            Blynken,
            And Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
   As they rocked in the wooden shoe;
And the wind that sped them all night long
   Ruffled the waves of dew;
The little stars were the herring-fish
   That lived in the beautiful sea.
“Now cast your nets wherever you wish,—
   Never afraid are we!”
   So cried the stars to the fishermen three,
            Wynken,
            Blynken,
            And Nod.

All night long their nets they threw
   To the stars in the twinkling foam,—
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
   Bringing the fishermen home:
‘Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed
   As if it could not be;
And some folk thought ’twas a dream they’d dreamed
   Of sailing that beautiful sea;
   But I shall name you the fishermen three:
            Wynken,
            Blynken,
            And Nod.

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
   And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
   Is a wee one’s trundle-bed;
So shut your eyes while Mother sings
   Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
   As you rock in the misty sea
   Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:—
            Wynken,
            Blynken,
            And Nod.

A Hoping Crush

Your smile makes me smile,
Your laugh makes me laugh.
Your eyes are enchanting.
You make my thoughts seem daft.

Since the day I first laid eyes on you,
My feelings grew and grew.
In that first conversation, my knees clicked and clacked,
And those butterflies flipped and flapped.

And as I spill these simple rhymes,
My mind goes over time and time.
Why didn’t you ask me to dance
During that slow song of endless romance?

I hope this doesn’t seem to creepy.
Please don’t think my thoughts have flown too freely.
Just know that what I speak is true
And that I have fallen deeply for you.

By Parker C. Blair

***

A Little Crush

I don’t know how it started
I don’t know how he feel about me
All I know is that he is a stranger
I fell in love with a stranger

I don’t even know his inside life
His feeling about what he believes in
In what he will say after
After I told him I like him

Life is weird and bizare
Life have unexpected moment
I don’t know what is happening to me
All I know is that I’m in love

When I think about it
Over and over again
In my mind I’m thinking that I’m in love
When I think about it in real life
I say

It is just a little crush

By Gloria Rose

***

A Time To Give It A Shot

Your beautiful eyes,
Your warming smile,
Your wonderful country accent
Makes me smile.

I’m shy to talk to you.
Foolish, I don’t know why.
What to be scared of?
You remind me of stars in the sky.
Beautiful and bright,
You’re a joyful sight.

I don’t know you well
But wish to know you more.
Maybe go on a date
Or see a show, either one,
I’ll just be happy to know
That we gave it a shot
And didn’t just let it go.

By Tyler Holley

***

Another Crush

I don’t want to keep feeling this way,
Because each time I come closer, you move away.
I don’t want to seem desperate or clingy at all.
I just want you to catch me each time that I fall.

I’m so tired of always being that flirt.
I want more than just that but don’t wanna get hurt.
Can’t believe I knew you so well from the start.
Now I feel pathetic when you mess with my heart.

You’re just a good day and a stormy night,
Just another crush that leads me to fright.
You’re one of those traps I can’t seem to avoid.
What are you to make of me once my heart is destroyed?

By Anastasia Moser

***

Beautiful Eyes

The first day I saw him,
I didn’t know what was going to happen.
He was one among the crowd,
Not at all different!

The second day I saw him,
There was some thing different.
He was not the same person,
Turned unique all of a sudden!

The third day I saw him,
He looked into my eyes!
I stood transfixed in his gaze,
In my stomach were butterflies.

The fourth day I saw him,
He looked in my eyes again.
Silent words were exchanged
between our gaze.

The fifth day I saw him.
I went up and asked,
Have we met before somewhere?
Or are we related from the past?

He shook his head
And here’s what he said!

Yes my love, we met in our past life!
We were two souls that became one.
In life and death we were together,
And again here we’ve come!

I turned my head and walked away,
Taking a silent oath
not to look at him the next day!

The sixth day I saw him,
Those beautiful eyes looked in mine again.
It felt like we’d known each other forever
speaking of pasts and future.

That day I knew we’re meant to be.
Whether it comes true or not,
We’ll just have to wait and see!

For now all that I know,
Those beautiful eyes are in what I’m lost!
So just remember that if you don’t find me,
In his eyes, lost I will be, conversing silently!

By Nicole Jemimah Hardy

***

Crush

I can see thee
dancing with roses
unaware of me
hugging my loneliness

I can see thee
flying up high
in my hollow dream
in this silent night

and sometimes I think
I’m in your eyes
feeling I can swim
all the way into your heart

We are walking on blue waters
feeling the breeze of the sea
for I’m with you nothing matters
for we are together, I breath

holding hand to hand
we walk to the moon
into a dreamland
on a hot balloon

but the dream is over
and there you are
dancing with roses
feeling like a czar.

By Anabel Anguiano

***

Crush

Your smile makes my heart skip a beat.
Around you I can barely speak.

You take my breath away
and make my heart grow in size.
I dont care what they say.
You have such pretty eyes.

Your voice is so warm
it jumpstarts my heart.

Im causing harm.
And falling apart.

I dont know what to do.
When your everything I want.
Im falling for you.
and faking nonchalant.

I reflectively lie.
Its not my intent.

I dont want to cry.
Over something not ment.

I’ll build a wall,
in hopes you’ll tear it down.
Im willing to fall.
Just dont want to frown.

You can make me smile,
with only a few words.
Please stay for awhile.
And be my world.

I know I love you.
But I’ll call it a crush.
I know its true.
But I dont want to rush.

When I look at you my heart skips a beat.
Around you I can barely speak

By Silence Dogood

***

Crush

I close my eyes and I see you,
Your gorgeous eyes are so blue,
The curlness of your hair,
I really care.

Am I sure this is real love?
Or is this just a crush?
Whenever I’m around you – I feel happy,
And when we’re apart I feel empty.

You’re the light of my heart,
The inner part,
The moon in the dark sky,
The tears I cry.

I dream of your warm lips on mine,
How our fingers entwine,
How our bodies come together,
And being with each other forever.

We’re just friends,
As I hope that our friendship doesn’t end,
Or we go to a whole new level,
As you’re always a little rebel.

My love for you is strong,
But I hope this crush isn’t for long,
As if I just want to be with you forever,
And only you no one else – just you and I together.

Drive into the sunset,
And I bet;
That you would fall in love,
But I hope this isn’t a crush.

Oh – how I feel about you,
How your eyes are just so blue,
How your smile makes me happy,
But I will always know that it’s not like that with you and me.

By Alicia Meyers

***

Crush

i have this strong feeling
my heart is beating fast,
how i wish he would go now,
but i like this feeling to last

i have a crush on this person,
not ideal to be crushed
but for me he is handsome,
he will always be loved

everytime his eyes meet mine,
i feel like i soar above the sky,
everytime he is beside me,
no thoughts would be in my mind

everytime i feel the heat of his body,
i feel my love burning inside,
i can’t resist this feeling,
i can’t get him out of my mind

i think i’m going crazy
everytime i see his eyes,
i want to stop this feeling
but i can’t resist this feeling from inside

i want to keep my eyes shut,
i want to keep my mind closed
but his face keeps hunting me,
wherever i look and go…

but baby my heart really wants you,
my eyes want to see you,
this feeling that’s inside me
keeps pushing me towards you

i want to stop this craziness,
but my heart keeps screaming your name,
oh, please stop making me like you,
please stop driving me insane!

many years may pass,
but still our memories will last,
you will still make my cheeks blush
cuz’ baby ’til forever, you’ll always be my crush.

By Verona Valentine

***

Crush

Admiring you, It’s true
I think you’re beautiful, I do
everything you are
I have loved from afar
And, now I want to get closer to you

I want to sit in the chair next to you
Sipping coffee and eating a scone
Making laughter in conversation
And, never again feel alone

But, I have no courage for introduction
No stories to amuse
No taste for drinking coffee
And, nothing else to lose
Only the strength of my resolve for you

I see the line, I dare not cross
petrified in word suffocation
a self rejection before it happens

I prepare myself for
the dissolution of my heart

I take my first step and I start 

By Marcus McKinley

***

Crush

You’re my apple of my eye
My heart didn’t lie
I’m ready to die
Just to gave you a pie.

Please, look at me
Because my day will be complete
When I see you in the street
Even a short time great.

I want you to be my baby
Also to be my girlfriend buddy
Because my life will be worry
If you do this every.

By Marvin Magno

***

Crush

Ug, his name will not get out of my head!
There is no escape, this I dread,

I wish there was someway to tell him,
Other than speaking from my own lips,

It has been a while since this all began,
Now he pops in my head, and fogs my mind,

I really want him to know,

I do not know how to tell him though,

I keep telling myself I will,
Then I see him and think better of it,

I sit here thinking,
Always about him, there is no end!

I do not want to be rejected!
But I rather not be pained, like I am right now.

By Lillianne Rosewood

***

Crush

You know exactly what to say,
at times I feel grey.
I feel so weak,
everytime you speak.

I dream of your voice,
it’s like I have no choice.
I can feel the butterflies,
everytime I look into your eyes.

But you tell me things about her,
sometimes it all seems a blur.
It doesn’t occur to you,
what I am going through.

Everytime I feel your touch,
I want to say too much.
I want to say I have a crush on you,
and I hope you feel the same way I do.

By Ena Di Rocco

***

Crush Gone On Too Long

We’ve never dated
Something I might regret
And I’ll never admit it
Though I’ll repeat it in my head.

I wish I’d never said no sometimes
Just to get away from this
The way you stole my heart one day
And became my happiness.

We still haven’t found each other
As annoying as that is
And keep dating others,
While thinking of each other as lovers.

I want to get away from this
But I’m not sure I ever will
I have to try
I might not succeed
And my soul will always ask me “why? ”

Why do I go through this torment?
Why not find some other guy?
But my heart was the one that chose,
One thing I won’t deny,
And maybe God has a plan.

Though I can’t find out why
He would put me with you,
When we’re just so different
I’m smart, I’m pretty,
(or so you say)
You hide your intelligence,
You are a jerk
And I can’t understand why
I know this, I want to let you go-
But my heart still always cries
“I need you, I want you, I don’t want to let you go! ”
But It’s just a stupid crush, I thought I’d let you know.

It might be a little long
But I’m not in love with you.
I just hope I’m not wrong
I hope it’s just a crush,
Gone on just a little too long.

By Ellie Smith

***

Crush, Bang, Wallop!

Love, the tricky bit that each life has to offer…
First the rush and then the crush,
but it depends who and what we’re looking for,
perhaps to complete us,
making us think love in itself is the happy ending…
or the happy beginning.

I like the tenfold increase in feelings and yet,
surely that’s the attraction and the addiction of love…
Perhaps our onefold normality is deliberate,

compelling us towards that higher reality,
that sensation of everything alive and new…
that striving in pursuit of happiness…

The daredevil mentality, risking all,
yet not, indeed, for all in return…
No, that would be too much to hope for,
too much to handle all at once…

Thus love comes to us in stages,

with letdowns along the journey,
deflating our inflated hopes and dreams,
like the popping of bubbles or balloons…
Life is complicated enough without love,
but love is the only game in town.

By Denis Martindale

***

Crush’Ed Online

Letters that made a word,
Words made those sentences,
Sentences that ended up as texts,
And every chat that brought me closer to you,
Defines the way i fell for you.

Liking builded up every second,
Day by day my heart weakend,
She is little different and little sweet,
I am just in love with her every tweet.

Life is so lively when online,
With her my mood too goes offline,
Dreaming she pops out of the messenger,
When I just click on the key enter.

Waiting for my lonliness to flee,
Longing for the day when she says she loves me,
And i’ll be with her everytime,
Rather then just being crush’ed online.

By Ritesh Ram Suvarna

***

Cyber Crush

On my mind scarily,
I am craving that which I have never tasted,
Wanting it to last forever yet it hasn’t began.
U are my secret addiction,

The opuim I am afraid to taste
for what if it is an illusion
A mirage heightened by the distance
or the fact that I cannot see your flaws

What if I am less than you expect
a fraction or less of your imagination
What if the sight of me is only attractive on the screen
yet mediocre in the flesh.

But still you make me smile,
Everytime I log in
I pray you are online.
Your jokes, your phrases, your concern
I feel your senses unfold with mine.

I am drawn to you
You know me, the deep me that I keep hidden
Its like you can read me
My every mood, my unspoken phrases
how do you do that without seeing me.

It scares me
how I have come to rely on you
how you do so much for me
trusting me yet the likelihood of you
walking past me is there

How do I say it
What do I say
I cannot explain it
I don’t want to explain it
I like it; and you by the way
skinny boy.

By Nancy Handabile

***

First Crush

We’ve all had a crush on someone,
when we were going to school, it
was difficult being around them,
without acting like, a perfect fool!
When you started a conversation,
it’s then you became tongue tied,
making you feel so embarrassed,
but alas…at least you tried! Why
was it, that every time they were
near, your heart, would skip a beat?

And it never failed upon walking away,
you always managed to trip over your
feet! No need to mention how awkward
you felt, as well as clumsy too, wishing
you could hide, as you realized, all eyes,
were watching you! This was quite a
dilemma, to be in, thinking to yourself, is
there a chance, that one day, you could
win!

By Audrey Heller

***

First Crush

You once sat on my wall and talked to me;
I was irked because you spoiled my silly game.
The tender age of twelve was what I’d be.
Aged thirteen and I just don’t feel the same.

Now you are a dream to teenage eyes.
Your dark good looks awaken teenage love.
I follow you, my head up in the skies,
I seek divine involvement from above.

If only you would turn and notice me,
Or sit once more and chat upon my wall,

How very very happy I would be,
You’ve grown so very handsome, lean and tall.

We sit in class, you turn and pinch my pen;
Oh joy of joys my world will spin again.

By Sherrie Lowe

***

I Wish

I wish I could say it,
I wish you would know.
The way you make me feel,
My heart almost seems to grow.

I wish you knew I mean it,
When I show my affection.
I wish you could see,
You’ve made a lasting impression.

I wish we could be together,
But our age forces us apart.
I hope that you know when you leave soon,
You’ll be in my heart.

I wish we had longer
Than just these few weeks more,
I wish it was forever,
That you’d be knocking on my door.

Someday you will know
What you mean to me.
My wish will come true,
And we’ll be meant to be.

By Lydia R. Terpstra

 ***

Internet Crush

The PC starts and loads its stuff with teeny weeny whirrs,
While I rekindle all my love for her while this occurs…

Impatiently my fingers tap, as desktop graphics load…
And just when I begin to snap, the browser’s graphics showed…

Click, click! One minute left to go! I’ll soon be back online!
My rosy cheeks begin to glow… Take heart, my Valentine!

My Yahoo Inbox! There you are! She’s emailed! OMG!

Stay calm! She’s just a superstar… She’s not in love with me…

She’s got some guy to take her out. She’s some new film to make…
Just being kind, of that no doubt, to give a fan a break!

What’s this! She wants to meet me soon! Phone number and address!
A miracle! I start to swoon! The stress! The stress! The stress!

What shall I wear! ? I’ll buy a suit! Tuxedo-style, oh, my!
It’s all for her, ‘cos she’s so cute! What gifts for her to buy! ?

A diamond ring, too early, son… A necklace, that’ll do…
And when the date is almost done, I’ll whisper, ‘I love you! ‘

I’m terrified as I respond… Then she picks up the phone!
I’m talking to my favourite blonde! The sweetest girl I’ve known!

Now on my knees I start to pray! Dear Lord, I’ve got a date!
Yes! Halleluyah! Hip, hooray! It’s time to celebrate!

I need the strength to get through this! It could be quite a trial,
Yet she’s the girl I yearn to kiss, the girl who makes me smile.

By Denis Martindale

***

Just A School Crush

I’m sitting in the classroom
I’m looking up at you
Your eyes wander pass me
you look right through

I see you looking at her
the princess of the class
Your eyes meet across the room
she smiles and winks at you

You blush and you look down
you don’t know I see
She knows just what you’re after
She will give it to you

I’m the one that wants you
really deep inside
I do think you know that
you’re just getting too blind

I’ll destroy your reputation
of the cool dude in school
I know I can’t have you
but it’s hard to hide the truth

eventually I will come over
the very thought of you
You are just a school crush
you will never want me to

By Camilla Fodgaard

***

Love

And in Life’s noisiest hour,
There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee,
The heart’s Self-solace and soliloquy.
You mould my Hopes, you fashion me within ;
And to the leading Love-throb in the Heart
Thro’ all my Being, thro’ my pulse’s beat ;
You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light,
Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve
On rippling Stream, or cloud-reflecting Lake.
And looking to the Heaven, that bends above you,
How oft! I bless the Lot that made me love

By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

***

Love? No. Fate? I Think So

I knew the day we met
That we were meant to be.
I knew our fate was set,
That you were the one for me.

I didn’t even know you.
I only knew your name.
I wasn’t sure what to do.
I didn’t know who to blame.

I knew I found you attractive.
I could tell that you were nice.
The butterflies were so active
That I couldn’t think twice.

Everything I did that day
Didn’t show you who I am.
Every time you came my way
My heart began to ram.

My actions weren’t natural.
My reactions weren’t real.
I felt so very terrible,
But my heart I did not wield.

And when the group said goodbye to me,
My eyes were fixed on you.
I knew I was trying to see
If you felt the same way too.

I liked you when I saw your face,
But maybe it was the touch.
My heart had begun to race.
I already liked you too much.

I knew the day we met
That we were meant to be.
I knew our fate was set
As friends, as lovers, as enemies.

By Tammy Luu

***

My Crush

Sitting alone in this lonely hallway
As you can see there’s nothing left
Since I’m the only one here
I can finally tell myself
I miss you and love you
But everyone laughs I don’t understand why I must move on
All this frustration wont go away
All this anger wont make it better
I want to hit the walls and make the glass shatter
Maybe you’ll run and rescue me this time

Now don’t get carried away our I’ll fall into heavy waves
Look I miss you to death
I need time to gather myself

I lay at night
The ceiling stands white
Everyone already dreaming
I refuse to close my eyes till you come into my life.
My crush, my crush.

By Ice Johnson

***

My Crush

I cant help yearn for your touch.
Even though your not mine
I miss you so much.
Wishing I could be with you day and night
But you belong to her
So that cant be right
How could I compete with a beautiful girl like that
Look at her, then look at me
I’m just all ugly and fat
All I want is your lips against mine

Your warm touch
And our bodies intertwine
So for now I’ll love you from afar
But day I’ll express how special you are
So until then I will retain this rush
And until then you will only be my crush.

By Shelly Galloway

***

My Crush

My life is a mess,
My crush thinks I’m wierd.
I’ve been cut off from the world,
to drown in my fears.

You don’t like me, never have, never will.
I can stare but never be fulfilled.
How hard is it to smile back at me?
I won’t sting, I’m not like a bee.

Is it because your popular, and maybe I’m not?
I want to know what it is, coz I think your hot.
I may not be allowed to go, to do.
But i can change, if it means i get you.

My hopes and my dreams have fallen beside me.
I have to be who they want me to be.
Moulded and shaped, so I will please.
Doing what they want, before I collapse into tears.

By Stephanie Smith

***

My Crush

I don’t know how I’ll tell her, this girl I’m crushing on,
I keep peering over from across the room.
Such beauty that could ever be gone,
Radiating from her being, a flower in full bloom.

She’s my crush, this girl I love deep inside,
She makes me laugh, she makes me smile without thinking.
When she turns my way, I turn away to hide,
I hope she didn’t see me stare, now I’m blinking.

I keep looking over and she doesn’t see,
She doesn’t see how she makes me feel.
How even though so close, so far, she’s with me,
A fire in my heart with her smile to seal the deal.

My crush, this girl, she’s really quite something,
Everything she does just seems so right…
It was her person that started my crushing,
Since then she’s been the moon to my night, my light.

Guiding the way with her ever-present smile,
Always pushing me to do more, to be better,
And I always get it every once in a while…
Her inspiration, her motivation, my goal setter.

One day I’ll have her, she’ll be all mine,
I know she’ll be, I know it sounds crazy.
She always just gives me chills down my spine,
It can’t just be nothing, ‘cause without her things go hazy.

She’s my crush and I love everything about her,
Maybe I should just let her know, maybe I should…
Yes, I should, I must, it’s what I’d prefer,
I know I will… I should… I could…

But what if she doesn’t feel the same way about me?
How could I ever hope to compare to such beauty?
Look at her now, with those dark eyes, her cute nose…
Ah shit she saw me looking, I think she knows!

Oh but she’ll never know how she really has me go,
My heart burns with passion, and it’s only the beginning of the show.
We’ll now only just begin to a story ever after,
Filled with love, hope, and laughter.

By Casey Gochnour

***

My Crush

I have these feelings deep inside
Feelings that I have to hide
I don’t know if he feels that way too
And I don’t know what to do.
When we’re together, I feel uptight
When he’s around I feel so right
I dream about what we can do
And all the things we can persue
I yearn just to feel his touch
And when he leaves, I miss him so much

I want to feel his lips against mine
And feel our bodies, our hands, our fingers, intertwine
So for now I’ll love him from afar
One day I’ll express how special you are
So until then I will retain this rush
And until then I’ll contain my crush.

By SarahLaney Long

***

My First Crush

In the sea of faces I saw a face
All in a haze, so filmy
Nothing did I see clearly
But a pair of love lit eyes
Riveted on me
My heart skipped a beat
Did my face grow pale?
Or got coloured by a blush?
I lowered my eyes
And looked away

But I saw him advancing
Coming straight to me

My heart began to race
My breath got hitched
My lips went dry and parched
I didn’t hear what he asked
Words got stuck in my throat
When they came
They came out broken and raspy
I felt as if struck
By congenital paralysis
Unable to move my facial muscles
Either to utter a word
Or curve my lips into a smile!

Felt butterflies in my stomach
A tremor took over my hands and legs
Beads of sweat appeared on my brow
My mind went blank
The world came to a sudden halt
Forgot where I was
I got frozen in time

This is how I felt
When I had my first crush!

Not knowing the futility of adolescent yearning
For long, I juggled with his unspoken words
“I LOVE you!”

By Valsa George

***

My First Crush

Everyone can remember
Their first crush
Hands sweating
Heart beating fast

Wanting to be seen
By whatever means
Whether walking by
Or being introduced to them

Laughter too loud
Or words that falter
Moments of pure pleasure
To being embarrassed forever

I remember you
Being my first crush
Seeing you on the other side
Of that partitioned half wall

Feeling totally flushed
As my friends noticed
How I continued to stare
Unbeknownst to their glare

I will always remember
My first taste of lust
Of the person who was
My First Crush

By Linda Barnes

***

My Greatest Regret

I never showed my love when she was here.
Of her reaction I always had that fear.
Now she will no longer stay.
I never showed my love, and now she’s away.

I always wanted to look at her face.
I always wanted to be near her place.
I always had a feeling deep down inside,
A feeling I always had to hide.

I did what I could to hide what I feel,
To hide how my heart she can steal.
Why hide? I was always asking.
Now it’s time for unmasking.

Since I saw her, I wanted to be more than her friend.
Now that dream will forever end.
She was the first girl on which I had a crush.
To see her, I went to school in a rush.

She might seem normal to you,
But she’s a saint from my point of view.
I thought she was perfect for me,
But through my wish I wasn’t able to see.

I never told that girl how my feelings were.
I never showed her how much I care.
I regret not having that talk.
I regret not breaking that block.

By Hussein A. Termos

***

My Secret Crush

I think about you everyday
I plan out what to say
You have no idea, you have no clue
Just how much I think about you
I try not to stare, I try not to hide
I try not to show that I have always lied
If I had told you before
Perhaps you might not be the same
I want to tell you how I feel
But the voices inside makes me hush
So I keep it down inside my heart
Hoping that nothing falls apart
Where ever you go, my heart will follow
But sadly, ever, only I will know
I hope my heart will never be broken
All because of my love unspoken

By Sania Harris

***

My Secret Crush

I sneak a look at him.
From under my eyelashes.
Seeing a perfect soul.
I wish I could have him,
As mine and not hers,
But I know I can’t.

All he sees is his flaws.
All I see is his perfection.

He thinks he’s ugly.
I think he’s a gift.

He’ll probably never know i exist,
But i know he exists.

That’s why i still hold on,
To the hope,
That he might,
Someday,

Be mine.
But for now,
He’ll stay as,
My secret crush

By Elizabeth Clement

***

My Secret Crush

Oh my gosh! Here’s my crush!
Seeing you my heart will blast,
Why you always smiling?
It keeps my my world shaking.

I like the way you smile
I feel better for a while,
Yes, seeing you makes my day
like there’s no other way.

One day, you sat in armchair
without you knowing I stared,
I try not to be obvious
’cause it might make you curious

At canteen, I bought snack
Don’t know, you’re at my back,
Touching my curly hair
Gosh! Is this a fairytale?

Every time you are standing near
Feels like I should disappear
’cause I can’t let you know,
It is feeling has learned to grow.

If I Could only let you know
How I wish to say ‘hello! ‘
but makes me painfully shy
Leading to silent ‘goodbye’.

By Jessa Mariz

***

My Sweet Fine Crush

Your are the reason why I choose to write love poems
I have a crush on you boy
But I choose to keep it a secret
Bottling them up
And putting them away
Writing these words of love
I would rather have you as a friend
Than no one
Just let me see you smile
And you will see me smileI don’t want to see you sad

Because I will be sad
Just stay around me as long as you can
Let me continue to touch your hand
I am liking you more each day
I hate it terribly when we go our separate ways
I can not show it
I can not say it
Because I know we will never be
At the end of the day though, I am happy
Because I at least have you as a friend

By Pamela Mote

***

Night Thoughts

OH, unhappy stars! your fate I mourn,
Ye by whom the sea-toss’d sailor’s lighted,
Who with radiant beams the heav’ns adorn,
But by gods and men are unrequited:
For ye love not,–ne’er have learnt to love!
Ceaselessly in endless dance ye move,
In the spacious sky your charms displaying,
What far travels ye have hasten’d through,
Since, within my loved one’s arms delaying,
I’ve forgotten you and midnight too!

By Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

***

Ode To The Crush

I met you at an improv show,
thought it was a normal day, but that wasn’t so
You came in, out of the blue
I liked you at first sight, that much is true

You were better at every game
made me feel almost lame
heard we were on the same team
and I started to beam

So many times I wanted to tell you
people telling me you were someone I hardly knew
I disregarded their hateful comments
started coming up with beautiful sentiments

Started thinking about saying my feelings aloud
unrealistic scenarios like on a cloud in front of a crowd
I don’t know I just had to know what you’d say
hoping for that slim chance of the answer being “okay”

After a quick rethinking I realized it might hurt the team
I didn’t want a simple thing to create a seam
perhaps not telling you was the best thing to do
or maybe one day I’ll look back to today and rue.

I can’t say which one hurt more,
telling you or trying to ignore
if my feeling continue to linger
maybe I’ll have to become a singer

Just to be able to release some of this pressure
all of what is making me so insecure
I can’t say anything yet about regrets
but I can safely say everything about my frets

If you ever see this badly written rhyme
perhaps you’ll consider it for some time
think about who was on the team, “Monkey”
then one other person who happens to be me

By Brad Jacole Sieths

***

Secret Crush

A secret Crush is What I have on you
At the sound of your name..My face turns blue

Every time I see your face
I get a feeling of a warm embrace

Just the smell of you drives me insane
When I am not with you..I’m in pain

You’re the only real one for me

If only you could make you see

See how much I seriously care for you
And how much I could do
And this is all for you

I would love you with all my heart 3
I would make sure we would never be apart

But unfortunately for me…you don’t feel the same way

But I’ll be fine because tomorrow’s another day
As my life becomes more and more gray.

By Cesar Herrera

***

Secret Crush

It’s been about a week that we met and its crazy how I get
I try to start a convo but I stumble all up on my words
I’m feelin’ you a little but to keep it quiet I prefer
Don’t wanna sound absurd
I’ll just wait a few more days to see what will occur

I heard a knock, I opened up and it was you outside that door
You came inside, just you and I, waiting for them to us assign
We talked a little while and I’m thinking to myself damn damn you is fine
The boss was calling me but I couldn’t even hear her speak; I’m sitting on cloud nine

We look into each other’s eyes and you got me blinded from your shine

When you left, my heart just kept, beating uncontrollably
Then finally, able to, calm it down a little bit
I see you from across the room; don’t know how to act, don’t know what to do
I’m just trying not to blush so you wouldn’t know that on you I have a crush

By Vanessa Roman

***

Secret Crush

A shooting star flew by
And you quickly came to mind
I knew once you walked into my life
You’re exactly what I needed to find

Our friendship flashed before my eyes
And a smile emerged on my face
I love each and every moment
Of your sweet enchanting grace

At first I liked our friendship
How we just trusted each other
How our friendship grew so strong
We were meant for one another

I was mesmerized from the beginning
By the words that you would speak
I couldn’t nor wanted to help
That you’d always make grow so weak

I’m not sure when it all started
But i began to fall for you
You had caught me in an unknown spell
There was nothing I could do

Over time  my feelings grew stronger
And you’re all I could think about
My heart was beating only for you
No one else
And in this there was no doubt

I tried to get over it
Knowing it could never be
Knowing I was just playing with my feelings
Thinking you would fall for me

I didn’t tell anyone
Not even my best friend
Didn’t want what little had began
To come to an end

I kept my mouth shut
Trying to deny it to even myself
Pretending I didn’t have those feelings
Lying to protect myself

I couldn’t control it
I yearned for you so much
Didn’t want anything else
Except your gentle soothing touch

This love is starting to hurt
Pretending that it’s not real
Trying to put it out of my mind
Refusing to reveal

But as I see you more and more
It’s becoming harder to deny
Soon, I will no longer be able to refuse you
No longer able to keep up this lie

By Robin Danford

***

Secret Crush

I once had a secret crush
People say it must be lust
This man is so kind
He will really blow your mind
This crush just won’t leave me
Maybe one day, the feelings will be free
I want to make him understand
I want him to be my man
I don’t really want to push it
But after that really long kiss

I could no longer resist it
I love him so very much
But I feel I will mess up
If I tell my secret crush.

By Alexis Lea Deguzman

***

Teenage Crush

A teenage crush on a full grown man
It’s bad enough for the other
Fantasising on what he can
And even worse he’s a teacher
With hair like gold and eyes so stern
He knows he’s won me over
My mind’s too bessotted to learn
I wish he’d take me sober
I don’t know why I like him so much
Why my stomach flips around him

I want to experience feel his touch
Filling desire within me
A teenage crush on a school teacher
One that could never be
I suppose I just want to be swept up
Swept off my feet for something
I don’t want to feel so alone like this
Sometimes it hurts too much
I want to be so passionately kissed
I want to fall in love

By Emma Woods

***

The Sad Truth

The chaotic noise inside the class,
The live chit chat that every group has.
Yes, another semester is at hand,
Another great year is about to land.
Friends hug like there’s no tomorrow,
Happiness is in, no more sorrow.
I see new people walk inside the room,
New batches of friends are about to bloom.
But one person caught my attention:
A girl with this kind of perfection
Walks like a model on a runway,
A girl who stole my heart away.
Her eyes sparkle like the stars above.
That look she gives me that I really love.
Her smile takes my breath away.
I know that I won’t let her slip away.
I want to tell her what I really feel,
Wanting to tell her that this is real.
Oh, this feeling that I hate,
A feeling that would not obliterate.
Want to know about the sad truth?
That there will never be a “me and you.”
Yes, that is the sad truth
That you’ll never say you like me too.

By Evan Blackwood

***

Think Of You

Lying in a meadow,
Hiding in the grass.
Staring at the stars,
But a thought distracts me.
All I think about is you, and
The way you make me feel.

I love the way you smile,
I love the way you laugh,
I love the way your eyes glitter,
When you are standing in the light.

I love the way you we talk for hours,
I love the way you listen.
I love the way we stay on the phone for hours,
But say nothing at all.

I love the way you stand up for me,
I love the way you tease me.
I love the way you say hello,
Every morning I walk in.
Most of all I love the way you stay by me,
No matter where I am.

So next time when I am lying in a meadow,
And I’m hiding in the grass.
When I’m staring at the stars,
You will be beside me.

By Wesley Manning

***

Tucked In His Pocket

There he goes, walking with his friends.
Little does he know he’s got my heart tucked in his back pocket.
I stand there waitin’ for you to notice
That I’m crushin’ on you, boy, and I just can’t stop it.

He flashes a smile, and I melt like butter.
He speaks to me, and I can only stutter.

Here I stand, staring at my feet.
When he walks by, can he hear my heart beat?
It’s got its melody when he’s around.
He picks me up when I’m feeling down.

When he looks into my eyes and smiles,
Can he see how much he drives me wild?
He’s adorable and wonderful,
Incredible and unbelievable.

I wish I could tell him everything I feel.
His heart’s not the only thing I want to steal.
His breath, his kiss,
I wanna be the one he’ll miss.

When he closes his eyes,
Wanna be his last goodbye,
His most treasured
Forever…

By Abigail Fenlon

***

When I Had A Crush On You

When I had a crush on you,
You acted as if I did not exist.
You persisted to avoid my advances.
Some of them were innocently delivered.

When I had a crush on you.
You wanted to play hard to get.
At least that is how I interpreted it!
As you intentionally flirted with others.

When I had a crush on you…
You toyed with my emotions.
And put me through the best tests,
I have ever yet from anyone else I’ve met.

When I had a crush on you,
The last thing I expected…
Was to hear you say to me, ‘I do’.

And ever since marriage has happened to us…

I find myself rushing to the door.
After fussing and cussing in a rage,
Pacing the floor.

Wondering ‘where’ you kept your fangs,
And ‘how’ did that monster I see now…
Every other day,
Manage to stay away from my view!

When I had a crush on you!

By Lawrence S. Pertillar

***

When I See You

When I see you,
Your eyes sparkle while you say hi with the sweetest voice in the world.
When I see you,
My heart skips a beat, and I don’t know what to say.
When I see you,
Love and happiness fulfills my thoughts, and all of my troubles go away.
When I see you, 
I wonder if you think about me as much as I think about you.
When I see you,
I daydream about the day we could say “I Do.”
When I see you,
All I want to say is, “I love you.”

By Roslyn Stevenson

***

Why Do You Think I’m Beautiful

I’m not pretty enough to be a model,
I’m not smart enough to be a scholar,
So why do you think I’m beautiful?

I’m not very book smart,
I’m not very good with art,
So why do you think I’m beautiful?

I hang out with the geeks,
Everybody calls us freaks,
So why do you think I’m beautiful?

I sit by myself at lunch,
Friends? I don’t really have a bunch,
So why do you think I’m beautiful?

I’m not very pretty,
I have all this acne,
So why do you think I’m beautiful?

My eyes are way too small,
And I’m just way too tall,
So why do you think I’m beautiful?

By Kendall Philips

***

With You My Knees Weak

Even hearing your name makes my knees weak
It takes me to a place I can’t even describe
I know that we have been friends
But is it wrong that I want to be more?
Seeing the places that we could explore
Together, Forever is how I want it to be
Just you and me

I know we have been through a lot
Tried to untangle every knot
But is it possible that you love me?
Can everyone see the couple I want us to be
Dreaming every night of us being together.
Through every type of weather.

I love when it rains because I can sit outside
Thinking about being by your side
When your heart is broken
You are My Token
I will always be right here
For you
Beside you
With you

By Kennedi Shai’Ann

A Day Full Of Anxiety

A day full of anxiety,
my thoughts meandering around,
like a kite rafting in the sky.
A puff of wind in my mind inside,
as if there’s no one to guide.
My emotions dumbfounded,
I love not, nor hate,
I weep, I cry, unaware of what is getting by,
I am all isolated, no friends beside.
My feelings rushes and crushes,

tears from my eyes they stream,
as if I am accused,
and my sentiments about to blow.
I know not this feeling,
nor am I hurt by any,
a day full of anxiety,
has left me depreciated by thoughts many.

By Priyanka Bhowmick

***

A Letter To Anxiety

A feeling beyond words
Ruled only by our minds
No logic or importance
Though inside it feels defined.

Trust your intuition
Has always been my rule
Though anxiety can trick,
Any living fool.

Listen it says, believe
Trust nothing but your gut
Do doubt your hesitation
It’s trying to drive you nuts

I know I say, but really?
Logic defies your words
You tell me I should worry
My heart says you’re a curse.

You infiltrate and rot me
You bring chaos to my world
My friends they start to doubt
The truth behind my words.

I hear you and I trust,
Your intentions are all heart
Though your over zealous prison
Is tearing me apart.

Don’t cry for me I say,
I love you for your concern
But I am ok, please trust
Sometimes we need to learn.

Life is tough and undecided
Danger lies in ever step
But please trust that I can navigate
To avoid untimely death.

I love you and I hear you
You care for no one but myself.
But rest assured I know enough
To do this by myself.

By Alison Eeles

***

Another Trigger

A storm is coming, my chest is tightening and it’s hard to breathe.
Like a giant noose, life is smothering me.
I would do anything to not feel this pain.
Make it stop, I want to laugh again.

The thought of being scared is so frightening.
Another trigger, it’s happening again; is everyone watching?
Everything matters, nothing matters, my life will be ruined again.
Paralyzed, afraid to move, the walls are closing in.

Everyone has disappeared, they think I don’t care.
Truth is I don’t want to be alone; I am so scared.
Please be patient, I know I can be withdrawn.
I need all of you more than ever; I’m not really gone.

Grab my hand, I can feel the ground; please don’t let go.
Having you with me helps more than you will ever know.
Let me talk, let me be silent, listen either way.
Thank you for understanding; I think I can make it another day

By Jim D. Prime

***

Anxiety

Chest tightens,
Gets hard to breathe.
My only escape
Is when I drug myself to sleep.

Constantly I wear a mask.
Constantly feeling afraid,
Worrying if the monster will attack me today.

But sometimes I’m at peace
With myself and everyone around,
Or maybe
It’s just another pretense
And I wear the mask all over again.

By Jade .S. Aka Shane

***

Anxiety

Anxiety,
I’m miserable because of you,
making plans and not following through.

You have me feeling as though I am alone.
I don’t feel safe unless I’m at home.

I see a stranger on the street,
want to say hi but too scared to speak.

What are they staring at?
Something must be wrong…
Is there a stain on my shirt?
Is my nose too long?

I’m shaking, find an exit, I must retreat!
Here they come! Here they come!
Quick, I must flee!

People keep telling me that I am fine
but I am not,
not in my mind.

A lump in my throat makes it so hard to swallow.
Pains in my chest consume me with sorrow.
I lay awake, restless, hoping maybe,
just maybe this will all be gone
tomorrow.

By Kristal McDolgle

***

Anxiety

The hoar-frost crumbles in the sun,
The crisping steam of a train
Melts in the air, while two black birds
Sweep past the window again.

Along the vacant road, a red
Bicycle approaches; I wait
In a thaw of anxiety, for the boy
To leap down at our gate.

He has passed us by; but is it
Relief that starts in my breast?
Or a deeper bruise of knowing that still
She has no rest.

By David Herbert Lawrence

***

Anxiety

Standing still, feet planted
Body frozen, mind racing
Fear takes over
Like another entity
That controls all

It pleasures in knowing
No advancement has taken place
Nothing has been overcome just stillness

It delights in knowing
How much power it has
Over that insecure body
Manipulation will be easy

Soon anxiety sets in
Causing the body to tremble
The more intense the trembling becomes
The more the certainty declines

As the body gets sucked down
The path of anxiety
Fear becomes overjoyed
Its job is done

That little seedling it planted
Developed and blossomed
And is taking over
The body

As the body realizes the fear
Needs to be expelled
The body doesn’t know how to
Get rid of it

So the insecure body
Succubus to the fear inside
Fear is overjoyed it did little
The body did the rest

By Kaitlin Schmidt

***

Anxiety

The beginning of this story,
starts with an overwhelming worry.
The constant feeling of something wrong
gnaws and eats away at my insides, strong.
It makes my stomach feel sick,
and my poor heart almost skip a t tick.
My body runs hot but somehow I’m cold,
it’s making me ache like I am old.
The Thud-up of my heart is off beat,
making me uncomfortable in my seat.

My eyes are teary, and my head falls heavy,
then comes the blackouts which are always scary.
This feeling last for hours,
draining me of all my powers.
This happens any and everywhere,
and most seem to be unaware.
I have to get up and leave,
so my heart can be relieved.
my tears leave trails, as my body shudders,
which then triggers an embarrassing stutter.

I want to live anxiety free.
I just want to be the old me.

By Crystal Pierce

***

Anxiety

Denial, will only increase your anxiety,
while honesty, could bring peace of
mind! This to me, is the best policy,
one can find. It pays to be honest, as
the more you’re in denial, the worse
off, you’re going to be. You get in
deeper and deeper and you don’t
want to lose, your sanity! Dealing
with anxiety, is not pleasant and
could cause, a lot of distress. If you

don’t bring it into the open, it then
becomes, a great big mess! To have
peace of mind, is truly a blessing! It’s,
what all of us need, to pave the way.
So, when you’re honest and have
nothing to hide, you’ll be able to keep,
your anxiety, at bay!

By Audrey Heller

***

Anxiety

She was alone in a crowded room
with no room to breathe,
compelled to leave
with a sense of impending doom.
She makes her excuses and rushes to the exit
as the blood gushes to her head,
My goodness I must be bright red she thought,
fraught she hurried home,
alone, safe at last, aghast at yet another anxiety attack.
She flopped onto her bed and sobbed,

robbed of a social life, robbed of fun
she did not feel safe around anyone.
It was morning when she awoke,
she spoke to the cat, her only friend.
He was her one and only constant in a troubled world,
she curled upon her sofa and fiddles with her hair,
relaxing at last now the panic has passed!

By Rose Garden

***

Anxiety

In the middle of this concrete and re-bar jungle teeming with death and life,
I think of you, Cadereyta. This maddening jungle is shocking, choking,
I think of you Cadereyta, I seek escape.

I come to you in dreams of flight, running away from the other side,
From its jungle of concrete and rebar, I come to you,
And you take me to the other side before time,
You give me your ethereal architecture, gossamer delight.

Floating on a jungle with death and life,

I walk through your streets with my most recent friends,
They are all from this side, from this time.

Do you remember my time in your time?
Such expanse in your space, did it mean anything?
The answer to that I know. The question is better served unasked.
Your time in my time is monumental, encompassing

By Juan Alvarado

***

Anxiety

This feeling that is trapped in me
I cannot seem to catch
It’s always there and mocking me
My emotions rose to match

It stings, it stabs, it lingers on
Often fades but then floods back
It forces me to lose control
Pushing me off track

I wish that I could get a grip
But it slips just out of reach
When I think that it is gone
I feel it buckling my knees

With its silent hand around my neck
It squeezes out my breath
With terrible force it wrings at me
With a fight I’ve never met

With every ounce I struggle on
But it stops each move I make
The anxiety it takes control
And my spirit it does break

By Haley Akin

***

Anxiety

The smile from anxiety
that rumbled your ability
the fear of man
away he ran

the challenges in place
and the needed grace
all the impediment
leads to establishment

going like a gladiator
in contest with alligator
now a commando
who is ready to grow

negate nefarious thought
and purity is all you got
when you frowned to anxiety
hope and faith to your ability

that is the grace
and you ready to face
the forces of distruction
you have all the instruction.

By Samuel Francis Leumas

***

Anxiety

Anxiety sucks.
One minute, I’m fine,
But the next,
I can’t breathe.

My hands shake
And my heart races.
And it feels like everything is
Happening too fast around me.

My head spins
And death feels
Both Imminent
And too far off.

And it sucks
Because I feel like
I can’t tell anyone
About it.

By Hannah Diane Williams

***

Anxiety

Anxiety slowly lingers all around
Blue-grey thoughts rush here
Worries come again and again
How to know?

What to think?
So it is, feeling down
The day is long then gets longer
Born in hope then lived in despair

Because, simply it is so
Worrying is this or even a bit more
Business often prevents us to drown
Yet, we are edging the breakdown

Anxiety again or just lightly more. Here

By Marilyn Jean

***

Anxiety A Portrait

Smiling sharks beneath the sea,
Never ever worried me.
Now I’m afraid of all I see…
Surrounded by anxiety

I try to breathe
breathe out..breathein.
Relax and let the peace begin,
but what I get no one can see…
I’m drowning in anxiety

My chest goes up, but lungs have ceased,
and air can never be released.
The hands of fear all claw at me….
I’m ruled by my anxiety

By Lodigiana Poetess

***

Anxiety Attack

slowly beating
gasping for air
you’ve blown me away
and you’re not even there

my heart races
then slows down
as i hear each footstep
thudding on the ground

i know it’s coming
i can feel you at the door
and i want to scream
say, ‘please, no more’

but yours they degrade me
as if i were not seven
and i keep begging to God
‘please Lord, take me away to heaven.’

By Lorena Walker

***

Anxiety Bread

Trying to go out shopping.
Having issues with my head
Trembling thighs
Screaming eyes
But I need that loaf of bread.

The shop I nearly reached
Ten feet and i was there
But I Had to run
From the paranoid gun

Avoiding a pretentious stare

Fighting the battered relic
It badly wants to win
Countless tries
Frustrated cries
I want to kick it in

Back in familiar chaos
Stomach in a manic dance

Hunger screams
In demented dreams
Desperate for a chance

Embracing my wounds with Prozac
Concealing a bone or two
A clearer head
Still no bread
Therapy must be due

By Peter Bain

***

Anxiety Of The Body

The life, in the beginning travel along road.
The body and mind moves to the wider
Direction, anywhere, everything goes.

The strength continues to the sense of action.
The body got tired, the mind thrown into confusion
To any point of direction.

The mind speaks and the body moves.
The muscles continue trembling because of fatigue.

The body feeling restless need focus of attention
The mind needs relaxation,
Something similar to meditation.

The spirit goes along way with body and mind to rest.
The main part that needs treatment and healing
With focus of attention.

By Jocelyn Sumido Dunbar

***

Anxiety Of Young Love

With the birds chirping ever so softly in that afternoon sunshine
And the streets buzzing with cars going zoom zoom
The crescendo hit peak and went dead silent
When you suddenly appeared

I could hear the crackling of the spring leaves
As you marched forward from a distance
Your every step, I counted
13 in all

‘Hello’, you said
Then followed the gaze
You held it long enough to plant seeds of you in my heart
I was transfixed, speechless and filled with joy

Your lips went up and down
I heard nothing
Voice so sensual and soft like velvet the attraction was chilling
Presence, so magical, it kept my heart going like respirators

I wanted more of you
You pleasured my reason
And tickled my fancy with your dazzling swag
How could I resist

You had me
That night your thoughts blossomed in my heart like flowers do in the spring
Went to bed with just one thought
I want to see you again and again

By David Beckham

***

Bottles Of Anxiety

Genies in Arabian Nights serve our curiosities,
and the monsters we read about in school-
books of fairytales, too. But we aren’t kids

to who grown-ups still will be kidding, not
even the ones we were, always scared of ghouls,
yet eager to listen to them from Grannies –

sweethearts sweeter than mums. This world
replaces them well in our hearts – corked

bottles not of Scotch but of anxieties.

If uncorked for a moment, they do things
more dangerous than bloodletting. Now
in charge of the world’s store of tricks, follies

and what it stands for, we end up adding
something to it. The chat, for instance, you do
with your ex-lover in the name of friendship;

it sets my heart cataloguing fears on a page.
Lies in love often turn out to be Cyclops
cooking dishes of us for dinner. But remember

we embraced our Grannies tight on scary nights,
in afternoons went for beetles, dragonflies,
and their memories made us forget mums’

rebukes for not being attentive to our studies.
Now the grown-ups we are – forced to think
of dashes, commas, colons, stops and other signs

as pauses more than necessary in our love;
of our breathing as what gets shorter each time
we make bouquets of lies, yawning. There are

fireflies we can still dream of, and let’s not
uncork all the bottles we have of insecurities
and let’s cuddle, skin to skin, till breathes end.

By Sofiul Azam

***

Cause Of Anxiety

Determined to cause anxiety, a fellow of the wind
Comes home in order to promise us whatever we want.
Forming issues of blindness, he is a man of repute
Now never that, now the opposing one, the ready.

I see him in my pair of eyes, in my distressing cries
As a little laughing man, so oblivious of my call.
The surrender I impose is a proposition
Opening before all in my way, the way of the dragon.

This drama thrilled me as a baffling subject of mine,
The offering or sacrifice remains still in my habits;
The art I endeavour reaches out to explode
And then shatter into even more pieces, such is art.

By Naveed Akram

***

Dad

I know you may not think so,
But I’m trying really hard.
I don’t do it on purpose.
I did not pick this card.

I’m trying my very best
To get this hurtle jumped,
But no one else is there
To help me out of this slump.

I don’t know what you want from me.
Give me a hint or clue.
Please give me a sign.
I don’t know what to do.

If you only knew
How much I struggle in this war,
Maybe you would be there
To pick me up off the floor.

It’s time to stop pretending,
Time to open up your eyes,
To give me a hand
Instead of looks and sighs.

It’s not that I don’t love you,
And it’s not that I don’t care.
The fact is I need help too;
I need somebody there.

By Sami Chester 

***

Guilt & Anxiety

The Lord delights in nourishing our needs
His promises defend our hopes and fears.
When we’re lost and alone and beg for answers
It’s Jesus we trust as our Savior in tears.

Man’s methods of dealing with guilt and anxiety
Only distract their wickedness, sorrow and distress.
When we heed God’s call and live by His will
We inspire others to heal, love, confess and bless.

Listen to the words of God’s wisdom of choice
That elevate our mind and heart within.
When we obey His teachings to overcome wrong
We’re more honorable, faithful and mindful of sin.

By Tom Zart

***

High Anxiety

Thank goodness, the yellow ball is hanging from the rope
If it weren’t there, well I really don’t think I could cope
Oh no, it’s now the red ball swinging in the breeze
My hands tense up, I start to sweat, my whole body’s in a freeze

Oh what relief, I can see now the yellow ball shining like the sun
At least for now, just for a short while, I can really have some fun
But just as I thought, the red ball has come and displaced my yellow friend
My anxiety returns, my calm has now come to an abrupt end

All those emotions sparked by coloured balls of complete irrelevance
The relief, the anxiety, the calmness, and then so tense
Just like a smoker whose emotions constantly whirl and spin
Around irrelevant, useless sticks that hang above their chin

By Alessandra Liverani

***

Little Exercise

Think of the storm roaming the sky uneasily

like a dog looking for a place to sleep in,

listen to it growling.

Think how they must look now, the mangrove keys

lying out there unresponsive to the lightning

in dark, coarse-fibred families,

where occasionally a heron may undo his head,

shake up his feathers, make an uncertain comment

when the surrounding water shines.

Think of the boulevard and the little palm trees

all stuck in rows, suddenly revealed

as fistfuls of limp fish-skeletons.

It is raining there. The boulevard

and its broken sidewalks with weeds in every crack

are relieved to be wet, the sea to be freshened.

Now the storm goes away again in a series

of small, badly lit battle-scenes,

each in “Another part of the field.”

Think of someone sleeping in the bottom of a row-boat

tied to a mangrove root or the pile of a bridge;

think of him as uninjured, barely disturbed.

By ELIZABETH BISHOP

***

Moth Anxiety

One result of Evolution
is that two small moths and I
are in this room now. They

live on my wall, gray flecks
on pale paint. Maybe they

move when I sleep. When I’m
awake, they’re still.

I’ve seen moth-holes in sweaters
but never caught moths eating.

Why don’t moths live amongst sheep
and cut out the middle step of knitting?
Is there such a thing as a moth-idea?

Do those new to English wonder
about “moth” and “mother”?

What’s the name of the enzyme
allowing moths to digest wool?

My wardrobe-door is open.
The moths remain,
composed, upon my wall.

By Hans Ostrom

***

Music Of Wakefulness

It is in the dark of night
When insomnia sings me awake
To the tune of lullabies
And the rhythm of mindful blight.

It is the spotlight of the watchful moon
And the flickering of uncertain stars
That cradle my fears
And anxious thoughts they croon.

It is in the view of the sunshine,
Where my unwanted thoughts stem,
Waiting and ripening in my head
Until around my throat they twine.

And echoing in my mind
Is the blissful song of insomnia,
Sewing itself into my skin
As daylight leaves me behind.

By Caitlin L. Stafford 

***

Mysterious Pain

With her head hung low
and nowhere to go,

she can’t explain
this mysterious pain.

It comes on so fast.
How long will it last?

Her heart is just pounding; her head starts to spin.
Please go away; she does not want you in.

She’s uncontrollably crying.
It feels like she’s dying.

Her body is trembling; her hands start to shake.
She feels so helpless with this horrible ache.

Someone, please help her; make this go away.
She can’t stand to feel this way one more day.

Someone, please help her; she’s down on her knees.
She’s scared and helpless and hopes no one sees.

With her head hung low,
not knowing where to go,

she tries to explain
this mysterious pain.

By Peggy Stewart 

***

Sexy Anxiety

I’m hot look at me
I’ve got anxiety
I’m skinny cuz I don’t eat
Don’t laugh that’s not funny

Check, check, checking me out
Standing out of the crowd
Drowning in my own Doubt
What does it feel like to be proud

I’m in control of me
And my choices apparently
Missed two meals I’ll just have tea
Shh don’t tell anybody

Broken Hearts are tuff to fix
Losers, hustlers, and Pricks
Cupid get lost with your tricks
stab yourself with your own stick

Lightheaded me
Hiding up in this tree
My body I cannot feed
Unspoken words that I speak

Falling to the ground
Is this peace that I found
When will love come around
When will I be safe and sound

My scars are apart of me
My hurt is what you don’t see
Unaccountable me
My sexy Anxiety

By Jay Bunny

***

Social Anxiety

When I need words most
The seem to drift away
My brain as their host
Doesn’t know the right words to say

A panic sets in me
And everything becomes overwhelming
My self-esteem starts to drop
It feels as if my head might pop

It’s scary unexpected
It like I’m infected
I feel as if I’m always being tested
I feel like I’m always being rejected

Why can’t I talk
Why can’t I make that scared feeling stop
I barely ever leave home
I’m starting to wonder if I’ll spend all my life alone

When will this end
When will I start being okay again

By Jessica Stubbs

***

Social Anxiety

Thanksgiving Day… time to eat
Through the door will come many feet
But no… my disorder will defeat me well
And here comes another story to tell

People are talking to me
No! Please leave me be!
I go to the bathroom for comfort
But the knocking on the door causes more anxiety to insert

Not just here, but also in the town
They like me, trying to give me a crown
I can’t look at their faces
The old, the young, that kid with the braces

I want to be normal and sane
But so far there has been none to gain
I want to live alone with my imagination
Away from all earthly sensation

By Dillon Gay

***

Social Anxiety

I’m not hungry, I’m hurting,
This isn’t nonsense I’m spurting,
Eye contact is averting,
My body is reverting back,
Into my organic shell,
When they begin to scream and yell,
I must’ve went off and fell,
Down the deep hole that leads to hell,
Where demons tend to dwell and,
All of the events smell fishy,

You’re either high or tipsy,
You go from itchy to dizzy,
Couldn’t see you were tricky,
The atmosphere is Misty or,
I just won’t open my eyes,
If I do then I’ll see some guys,
That stab me and hear my cries,
Then I wake as my ego dies,
I can see through your lies now,
Now my vision is all clear up,

Please stop, just slow down, hold up,
There’s no need for you to speed up,
At this pace you will blow up,
You’re too far ahead, back up, stop,
My girl don’t dance to my bop,
But she is one I cannot drop,
Although my love is nonstop,
I can’t direct it to a spot,
Love is the root of my depression,
Creates joy as well as aggression,
Mainly sadness because suppression,
Of having a physical session,
Definitely to my discretion,
Obviously there’s no possession,
I need love to be my expression,
If my body is the impression,
Then all my heart is in secession,
This will be my final confession,
Though might be beyond comprehension.

By Sketcher Ridpath

***

Speech: “To be, or not to be, that is the question”

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: ’tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there’s the rub:

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause—there’s the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th’oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,

The pangs of dispriz’d love, the law’s delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th’unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovere’d country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action.

By WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

***

Test Anxiety

My heart begins to race
As a sheet passes before my face
Anger begins to grow
The fear of faliure begins to show
The anger forces tears
I finally know the deepest of my fears
I can’t handle it
I just wasn’t cut out for this
I try my best as my anxieties show
I let the words on the paper flow

The test is finished the best I can
I turn it in
The fear is gone

By Amber Kangas

***

The Effects Of Anxiety

Everything,
Caving in,
Spinning all around me,
Trying not to think about
What will freak me out

Feeling so unsafe and insecure,
Knowing that there isn’t a cure
Only my mind’s
Ability to trick itself,

I get so scared,
Especially when I begin to doubt

It’s not fair
That I have to feel this way,
I wish that I could just make it go away

To no longer panic,
To no longer fear,
Illusions that my mind creates

Seems inevitable when I’m here

I train myself to cope
With my worst fright,
Can’t someone please
Make things alright?

By Jessica Goudreault

***

The Fire

The fire that rages
from within my rib cage is
weakening the bones
that should make me strong.
The feeling creeps for every dark place.
It fills up my head; it’s invading my space.
It’s melting me from inside; I think I’m burning up.
I can’t breathe or move or talk. I’m hopelessly stuck.
As people pass by, they give no second glance.
I cry out for help; this is my chance.
The fire claws at my throat; it’s burning my tongue.
I think it’s too late for help; the damage is done.
I down some water, which brings calmness and peace.
The fire has settled for a minute, at least.
Eventually it’s burning as hot as before.
The fire rages back up from my very core.
The fire inside is one you can’t see.
The fire inside, it’s my anxiety.

By Sarah Gray 

***

The Price is Right: A Torture Wheel of Fortune

The show did not start off

auspiciously, the contestants

were nervous and kept fiddling

with the wires attached

to their privates, the men

being especially anxious

over the question of balls.

The women were more querulous.

The first question, a medical subject,

was why had the anti-abortionists

not mentioned, let alone commented on,

the Baboon Heart transplant?

One terrified contestant guessed

it was because the moral majority’s

nervous concern with evolution

precluded their bringing it up.

That hopeful contestant’s face

reflected the malicious light

in the eyes of the host who

immediately threw the switch

A powerful surge shot through

the wires and both sexes screamed

and writhed, to the delight of

the vast viewership, estimated

at 100 million, all of whom,

presumably, were delighted

not to be on the show,

because not one in a million

knew the answer.

By EDWARD DORN

***

The Problem of Anxiety

Fifty years have passed
since I started living in those dark towns
I was telling you about.
Well, not much has changed. I still can’t figure out
how to get from the post office to the swings in the park.
Apple trees blossom in the cold, not from conviction,
and my hair is the color of dandelion fluff.

Suppose this poem were about you – would you
put in the things I’ve carefully left out:

descriptions of pain, and sex, and how shiftily
people behave toward each other? Naw, that’s
all in some book it seems. For you
I’ve saved the descriptions of chicken sandwiches,
and the glass eye that stares at me in amazement
from the bronze mantel, and will never be appeased.

By John Ashbery

***

The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre   

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst   

Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.   

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out   

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert   

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,   

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,   

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it   

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.   

The darkness drops again; but now I know   

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,   

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,   

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

By WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

***

Where Am I?

Is there anyone there
to help me see,
help me remember,
remember to be me?

For I feel like now
I am someone else,
and I need some help
to find myself.

Sometimes my thoughts
might drift away
with the empty look
I may portray.

You think I’m doing nothing,
but I’m doing my best
to put my busy mind
to rest.

Always so tired
trying to find the strength
and keeping my loved ones
at arm’s-length.

Never wanting
my family to see
that a once happy woman
has turned into me.

By Christine G. McCloskey 

History remembers many heroes. But everyone has their own heroes: it may be a father, a person who loves, or a fictional character altogether. Why not? Remember that heroes are always around, they live among us.

«A Different Kind Of Hero» by Heather Griffith

A hero to me is not just a person who died for their country
or went inside a burning building or stuff like that.
A hero to me is a single mother who survives every day by herself,
A teenager against all odds getting through life,
An alcoholic walking into a rehab center,
A father being not just a father
but a friend, caregiver, supporter, a brick wall for his kids.
A friend, who no matter what or how wrong you are,
stands up for you and takes your side.
A hero, who no matter how hard they are being hit or pushed or beat down,
no matter how bad they are emotionally or physically or psychologically,
they stand up and keep going.
They push through the pain of life, love, kids, work, school, drugs,
sports, parents, heartbreak, alcohol; that to me is a hero.
A person who isn’t just there, but is there living, breathing, and surviving.

***

«A Different Kind Of Hero» by Kelsee Briscoe

He is not the kind of hero who is fighting in the war.
He is not one who sails offshore.

I don’t call him Sergeant, Captain, or Sir.
His title is DAD; that is for sure!

He is the fixer of my broken things
And the household doctor when I get bee stings.

He picks me up when I fall down 
And always turns my frown upside down.

He keeps me safe when I sleep at night. 
He gives me seconds when I have a big appetite.

That’s my Dad. That’s who he is.
He deserves a medal for the things he did.

***

«A Hero» by Robert William Service

Three times I had the lust to kill,
To clutch a throat so young and fair,
And squeeze with all my might until
No breath of being lingered there.
Three times I drove the demon out,
Though on my brow was evil sweat. . . .
And yet I know beyond a doubt
He’ll get me yet, he’ll get me yet.

I know I’m mad, I ought to tell

The doctors, let them care for me,
Confine me in a padded cell
And never, never set me free;
But Oh how cruel that would be!
For I am young – and comely too . . .
Yet dim my demon I can see,
And there is but one thing to do.

Three times I beat the foul fiend back;
The fourth, I know he will prevail,

And so I’ll seek the railway track
And lay my head upon the rail,
And sight the dark and distant train,
And hear its thunder louder roll,
Coming to crush my cursed brain . . .
Oh God, have mercy on my soul!

***

«A Hero’s Judgement» by John Sochayseng

I looked the sky that night
The moon was still there, so bright
Lonely clouds passed me right
Its dark shadows feel me fright

I walked up straight
You can see no mate
but only me, A bait
In this time, I am non-people trait

If only I had the fund
I would gladly give my land
but I have non even a wand
Just a pen and a mighty hand

I am slowly rotten
About to dive by the raven
I was up to it whatever happen
Sadly, I was forgotten

If I were born to live again
I would never, A second either
I knew there were no ten
Would give me to my letter

I am sorry mother land
Its the future holds thy hand
Even a light shows upon
There is nobody who can

This is how lust the people now
Reminisce no to thy past
No one who takes a vow
To the hero’s who cast

for the motherland who asks
time, love, faith and trust
even their hearts that last
just to finish thy task

***

«American Heroes» by Cheryl Alexander

America has so many heroes.
Many, we know not their names,
They are policemen and firemen,
Soldiers and boxers.
Most, with no Hollywood fame.
Heroes come from all walks of life,
From every race, religion, and creed.
Helping citizens in trouble,
Assisting those in desperate need.
I have had many heroes
Throughout my entire life,
My parents, my siblings, my kids, even strangers
And a hero who’s made me his wife.
How fortunate we are who love our country,
Giving unconditionally,
How fortunate I am to be an American
Whom someone’s hero is me.

***

«Coronavirus – Have You Seen» by Beryl L Edmonds

Have you seen the doctors who hardly get to sleep?
From sad weary eyes, silent tears they weep.
They’re battling to save hundreds of lives,
Yet see so many dying right before their eyes.

Have you seen the nurses, tired and worn,
Just come from doing many hours on the wards?
Have you seen them out, walking on lonely streets
Searching empty shelves, for nourishing food to eat?

Have you seen domestics, putting safety first
Keeping hospitals clean, fighting off the germs?
Bravely they go into infectious wards,
Never thinking of themselves, no not at all.

Have you seen the porters, down on their heels,
Walking many miles, pushing many wheels?
We must respect this valued band of women and men.
Though they go unnoticed, we can’t do without them.

Have you seen the caterers, keeping all folk fed?
The staff and the patients lying in their beds.
Such an important part to play in someone’s health,
A role that couldn’t be compared to any amount of wealth.

A great big thank to all National Health Staff
To every volunteer coming forward like they have.
You all have a part of our hearts, are in every prayer we make.
May God bless you all, keeping you well and safe.

***

«Goodnight Our Hero» by Juli Round

To be brave is to cry
But still to fight on,
And that’s what you did,
Our hero, our son.

The battle was hard.
We thought we had won,
But still you fought on,
Our hero, our son.

The happiness you brought
To the lives you have touched
Will live on forever
As you are loved so much.

When we close our eyes we can see you.
When we whisper your name we can hear you,
And when we reach with our hearts we can touch you.

Goodnight our hero, our son, our Dan.
You are just a child
But you have died a man.

***

«Hero» by Siegfried Sassoon

‘Jack fell as he’d have wished,’ the Mother said,
And folded up the letter that she’d read.
‘The Colonel writes so nicely.’ Something broke
In the tired voice that quavered to a choke.
She half looked up. ‘We mothers are so proud
Of our dead soldiers.’ Then her face was bowed.

Quietly the Brother Officer went out.
He’d told the poor old dear some gallant lies
That she would nourish all her days, no doubt.

For while he coughed and mumbled, her weak eyes
Had shone with gentle triumph, brimmed with joy,
Because he’d been so brave, her glorious boy.

He thought how ‘Jack’, cold-footed, useless swine,
Had panicked down the trench that night the mine
Went up at Wicked Corner; how he’d tried
To get sent home, and how, at last, he died,
Blown to small bits. And no one seemed to care
Except that lonely woman with white hair.

***

«Hero» by Ricky Baker

A Hero is someone looked up to,
Who others could love to be,
A Hero is someone, who is very courageous,
And willing to put their life aside for another’s happiness or well being,
A Hero is anybody, anybody who can make someone’s day,
Or to help out with a simple chore,
A Hero does not have to be successful,
Or to complete their great intention,
A Hero does not have to be able to fly,
Nor to have any other superhuman power,

A Hero can be of any sex, race, or species,
They do not have to be human,
A Hero is not somebody, who is good at everything,
They don’t even have to be good at very well anything,
A Hero is somebody, who could only listen,
They could make you smile with out any words,
A Hero is someone, who could stand up for you,
Or to agree in your beliefs,
A Hero could be your Teacher,
helping you learn towards your future,

A Hero is anybody, and everybody,
Everyone is someone’s Hero,
And everybody has a Hero.

***

«Hero In The Classroom» by Susan T. Aparejo

A simple being, hero in the classrooms,
Pen and lesson plans are his tools
In imparting knowledge to his learners
a father/ mother of almost sixty.

Teaching children of not his blood,
Nurturing then of knowledge flood,
Burning midnight candles,
Doesn’t matter all,
their achievements are his goal.

Addressing different learning styles,
With various teaching aids on files,
Preparing a friendly atmosphere,
Even none from his relatives care.

The forgotten hero in the classroom,
Toiling overtime forgetting time,
You wonder he is paid under time,
Job unrecognized, being late recognized.

Shock absorber of children’s home dilemma,
Protector of children’s right,
One lose footing is and err to faulty eyes,
the blame of one, an eraser of myriad works.

He is a hero, the invincible child’s dream designer,
His music is the melodious children’s laughter,
His destiny is to deal a challenge every year,
His joy is the star of diploma in each students’ finger

***

«Hero-Worship» by Amy Lowell

A face seen passing in a crowded street,
A voice heard singing music, large and free;
And from that moment life is changed, and we
Become of more heroic temper, meet
To freely ask and give, a man complete
Radiant because of faith, we dare to be
What Nature meant us. Brave idolatry
Which can conceive a hero! No deceit,
No knowledge taught by unrelenting years,
Can quench this fierce, untamable desire.

We know that what we long for once achieved
Will cease to satisfy. Be still our fears;
If what we worship fail us, still the fire
Burns on, and it is much to have believed.

***

«Little Super Hero» by Mike Kosman

Hey little super hero
With your batmobile parked right beside your bed
And teddy on the pillow by your head
You think I can beat up superman
And do lots of things that no one can
That I’m everything a dad is supposed to be
Son don’t ever think that you have to be like me

Hey little super hero
Somebody said a man’s not supposed to cry

And feel ashamed for being scared I don’t know why
We’re supposed to laugh in the face of danger
And be brave as the lone ranger
But little buddy, that just ain’t where it’s at
Don’t ever think that you have to be like that

Hey little super hero
I guess it doesn’t make much sense right now
But I’m trying to make you understand somehow
You’ll be a better man by far

If you be just who you are
And be honest in the things you say and do
This world will be a better place for you

Hey little super hero
I guess it’s time for me to say goodnight
In my heart I know you’re going to be all right
I’ll always try to guide you
And kill the fears inside you
Help you out in any way I can
Cause sometimes it ain’t easy being a man

***

«Memories Of My Dad» by Rebecca D. Cook

He wasn’t a hero
Known by the world,
But a hero he was
To his little girl.

My daddy was a god
Who knew all things.
And better than Santa,
With the gifts he’d bring.

I knew his voice
Before I could speak
And loved it when
He would sing me to sleep.

He changed my diapers
And sat up all night
When my body was weak
And I’d put up a fight.

He’d come home late
With not much to say
And made us all kneel
As he taught me to pray.

He taught me life’s lessons
Of right from wrong
And instilled in me values
That I might be strong.

And so through the years,
Like a hero he stood.
Working to give
All that he could.

His presence was important,
And we loved to see him smile,
For no one in the world
Could emulate his style.

And so, dear Dad,
My best memory to recall
Is the gift of your presence,
The greatest gift of all.

***

«My Hero» by Colleen R. Straight

My hero is my mother.
She alone raised me, my two sisters, and my brother.
I really do love her,
And I will always and forever.

Nobody else could relate
Or even try to imitate,
Because my mom is too great.
Someone I appreciate.

My mom is nice and kind.
Someone like her is hard to find.
She helps me be my best and shine.
My mom is the greatest mom of all time.

To her I would like to say,
Thank you for being there every day,
For helping me find my way.
I want to be like you someday.

***

«My Hero» by Amelia G. Perkins

Most people think of a hero as a superstar.
My hero is an everyday person.
My hero is my mom.

My mom is a hero; she stands for hope.
My mom is a person you see every day.
My mom is there when I’m trying to cope.
My mom was there when I was little and all I wanted to do was play.

My mom is strong and has beat all odds.
My mom is a teacher and works hard at her job.
My mom is a hero; she is my crystal ball.
My mom is a hero who I know will catch me if I fall.

My mom is my shining star.
She is the one I look to when times are hard.
Sure, she isn’t perfect, but she isn’t that far from it,
But to me she is as perfect as any mom could be.
Mom you are my hero, my everything!

***

«My Hero» by Tim Meister

My Hero can’t leap tall buildings with a single bound. He
doesn’t wear a black costume with a cape and pointy ears.
He hasn’t scored the winning touchdown or shot a three –
pointer at the buzzer to win the championship. My Hero
isn’t any of those things.

My Hero has scarred and callused hands from years of hard
work. His hair is gray from worrying if he was going to
have enough money to last another year. His voice is deep
and scratchy from the many stories he told. My Hero is all

of these things.

My Hero sat with me when I was scared late at night. He was
by my side when I woke up from burn surgery. He comforted
me when I had to take cold baths cause my fever was too high.
My Hero was all these things.

My Hero has loved his wife for almost thirty years now. He
made sure that I knew the difference between right and
wrong. He taught me how to work hard and the importance of

honesty. My Hero has done all these things.

My Hero has earned my love and respect. No one else could
take his place cause my Hero is my Dad.

***

«My Hero» by Ernestine Northover

I sit in the chair that he sat in,
And sleep in the bed where he slept,
The silence is loud to my hearing,
How many times now, have I wept.

I view all the things that he collected,
Knowing how he cherished them too,
And here in my heart he will linger,
Because he was the one, of value.

He was my love and my hero,
My right hand and my sounding board,
A husband and friend, right up to the end,
For us there was never discord.

I sit in the chair that he sat in,
And remember how close we became,
He’ll always be with me in spirit,
I’m so proud to have taken his name.

***

«My Hero» by Paul Prescott

My hero is the best,
He is better than all the rest,
My hero doesn’t like to admit,
That he is my hero when he dose his little bit

My hero has love and respect,
Even he is my prime subject,
My hero is always on my mind,
Even though he is smart and kind,
My hero has a special name,

But I can’t tell you it cause it would put him in shame

My hero loves to pull a trick,
He is not smart no is he very thick?
My hero makes me smile even though I feel crying,
He says ‘I will always love you even though I am dyeing’

***

«My Hero» by Michael P. Johnson

Jesus my Hero God & man
My Lord who’s never far
I salute You because I can
And who in truth You are

What so many consider odd
Contra what fools may say
There really is an awesome God
Through love to show The Way

The Way to love to endless bliss
Beyond this world of fears
To a life far greater than this
In a Land free of tears

He is my strength my trusted shield
My fortress and my sword
Now to the foe I’ll never yield
My Hero is The Lord

A precious God a wondrous King
A Hero born to free
Who’s praises forever I’ll sing
For saving such as me

With hands aloft with head held high
With eyes watching above
Together my Hero and I
Will show my neighbours love

Surely my Hero I salute
For giving me His hand
That I may bear my Saviour fruit
Towards His Promised Land

Perhaps these eyes may soon grow dim
I’ll trust who is my friend
Should I wonder seeing in Him?
My Hero to the end

***

«My Hero Bares His Nerves» by Dylan Thomas

My hero bares his nerves along my wrist
That rules from wrist to shoulder,
Unpacks the head that, like a sleepy ghost,
Leans on my mortal ruler,
The proud spine spurning turn and twist.

And these poor nerves so wired to the skull
Ache on the lovelorn paper
I hug to love with my unruly scrawl
That utters all love hunger

And tells the page the empty ill.

My hero bares my side and sees his heart
Tread; like a naked Venus,
The beach of flesh, and wind her bloodred plait;
Stripping my loin of promise,
He promises a secret heat.

He holds the wire from this box of nerves
Praising the mortal error

Of birth and death, the two sad knaves of thieves,
And the hunger’s emperor;
He pulls that chain, the cistern moves.

***

«My Hero, My Husband» by Jennifer G. Dickerson

I thought your world was only me
And you will live your life so safely.
But you have your own responsibility
To serve your people and your country.
I am just a wife that cares for you.
Is it wrong for me to love you so?
You are a soldier and everybody’s hero.
Leave your family and in war you’ll go.
You have the eyes of a brave soldier.
You have the strength to fight forever,
A strength that I’ve never seen before,
Just to vanish evils and terror.
You spent most of your life fighting,
But terror it seems to have no ending.
I wanted you to stay and never go,
Be with your wife and be my hero,
But my selfish ways never stopped you,
Knowing you love your country too.
I am afraid not to see you again,
Afraid to live my life with pain,
But who will fight terror then?
Who will protect your countrymen?
My cry will not stop you from leaving,
And tears will stop from falling,
But my prayers are your shield of terror
And love that waits forevermore.
I will sleep tonight and look at you,
Give warm kisses and hugs to my hero.
You need to go for people and country.
It’s so sad our life happens this way.
But God has reasons that I didn’t see.
I know how much you truly love me,
And you have a duty as a brave Army.
I have faith you’ll be back someday.
I am proud from the day I married you,
Because you are my one and only hero.

***

«Our Hero» by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

Onward to her destination,
O’er the stream that Hannah sped,
When a cry of consternation
Smote and chilled our hearts with dread.

Wildly leaping, madly sweeping,
All relentless in their sway,
Like a band of cruel demons
Flames were closing ’round our way

Oh! the horror of those moments;
Flames above and waves below-
Oh! the agony of ages
Crowded in one hour of woe.

Fainter grew our hearts with anguish
In that hour with peril rife,
When we saw the pilot flying,
Terror-stricken, for his life.

Then a man up rose before us-
We had once despised his race-
But we saw a lofty purpose
Lighting up his darkened face.

While the flames were madly roaring,
With a courage grand and high,
Forth he rushed unto our rescue,
Strong to suffer, brave to die.

Helplessly the boat was drifting,
Death was staring in each face,
When he grasped the fallen rudder,
Took the pilot’s vacant place.

Could he save us? Would he save us?
All his hope of life give o’er?
Could he hold that fated vessel
‘Till she reached the nearer shore?

All our hopes and fears were centered
‘Round his strong, unfaltering hand;
If he failed us we must perish,
Perish just in sight of land.

Breathlessly we watched and waited
While the flames were raging fast;
When our anguish changed to rapture-
We were saved, yes, saved at last.

Never strains of sweetest music
Brought to us more welcome sound.

***

«Our Hero» by Robert William Service

“Flowers, only flowers — bring me dainty posies,
Blossoms for forgetfulness,” that was all he said;
So we sacked our gardens, violets and roses,
Lilies white and bluebells laid we on his bed.
Soft his pale hands touched them, tenderly caressing;
Soft into his tired eyes came a little light;
Such a wistful love-look, gentle as a blessing;
There amid the flowers waited he the night.

“I would have you raise me; I can see the West then:

I would see the sun set once before I go.”
So he lay a-gazing, seemed to be at rest then,
Quiet as a spirit in the golden glow.
So he lay a-watching rosy castles crumbling,
Moats of blinding amber, bastions of flame,
Rugged rifts of opal, crimson turrets tumbling;
So he lay a-dreaming till the shadows came.

“Open wide the window; there’s a lark a-singing;
There’s a glad lark singing in the evening sky.

How it’s wild with rapture, radiantly winging:
Oh it’s good to hear that when one has to die.
I am horror-haunted from the hell they found me;
I am battle-broken, all I want is rest.
Ah! It’s good to die so, blossoms all around me,
And a kind lark singing in the golden West.

“Flowers, song and sunshine, just one thing is wanting,
Just the happy laughter of a little child.”
So we brought our dearest, Doris all-enchanting;
Tenderly he kissed her; radiant he smiled.
“In the golden peace-time you will tell the story
How for you and yours, sweet, bitter deaths were ours. . . .
God bless little children!” So he passed to glory,
So we left him sleeping, still amid the flow’rs.

***

«The Dead Hero’s Grave» by Francis Duggan

He fell in a battle from here far away
But in his native earth his remains now lay
The war that he fought in by his side not won
And the aged mother she still grieves the loss of her son.

A fading bouquet of flowers on the dead hero’s grave
Placed there by the mother who loved him for her son who died brave
He fell in a distant battle four decades ago
And he was a great person as she ought to know.

In his early twenties just twenty one years
For her long dead son the widow has not shed all of her tears
In her early eighties sad and bent and gray
The clock on her life it is ticking away.

He was her only offspring which seems the more sad
And he did not have the chance to become a dad
He died under gunfire a noble young man
In a war in Asia in distant Vietnam.

***

«The Death Of A Hero» by Francis Duggan

From Meelin he came to Millstreet Town to die
For Ireland with a bullet in hie eye
And though more than eighty years since then have come and gone
The name of brave McCarthy still lives on.

He died in agony and painful pain,
His blood flowed down the flags of Millview Lane
If every Irishman were half so true
Then Ireland now would have the thirty two.

And though his only reward was the grave
McCarthy died for Ireland and died brave
He could have turned and ran away that night
But he stood and fought for what to him was right.

The Irish Republic is a part of Europe now
And our Ministers to Europe’s big men bow
If he’d survived and stilll lived on today
‘Twould be interesting what he’d have to say.

In Meelin stand a monument to the name
Of the man who brought upon that Village fame
To the noble hearted one of great renown
Who fought and died in famous Millstreet Town.

***

«The Hero» by Burnell Raphael

Crossing the battlefield early today
Amidst bombs dropping, bullets flying,
I saw a soldier kneel to pray
Amongst the wounded and dying.

I could see a cross on his arm
As he knelt in the slimy mud,
He seemed not to show any alarm
Binding wounds, giving blood.

An enemy tank rumbled by
Crushing the wounded and the dead,
A soldier crying,”Am I going to die?
I’m badly wounded in my head.”

The medic crawled over to him
Looked, then bowed his head in prayer,
He watched as the lad’s eyes grew dim
Then covered the body with loving care.

A shell exploded at his side
Shrapnel ripped into his chest,
On the field the medic died
Thinking, “Lord, I did my best.”

***

«The Mind Inside My Hero» by Ana Lia Zaldivar

Unique friend imposible to find,
caring and loving for the ones who are,
The protector of broken hearts,
A true hero in my world.

Seems to be perfect for us,
but that’s only what the eyes can see,
’cause my heart can see something else,
A vulnerable soul under it’s shield.

My perfect hero has his sectrets,
Unknown for the ones who see with the eyes,
my hero is becoming weak with the time,
but he can’t realize….

The mind inside my hero,
Keeps feelings hidden,
for the ones he must protect,
to trust, and not be afraid.

A red rose in between many white,
similar to the others, but never the same,
feeling lonely on the inside,
wanting to hide and not to face the truth.

An exquisite prey in the jungle,
afraid of the hungry predators,
keep trying not to make any noise,
just avoiding to be haunted.


I can see him with my heart,
and I see his fears and his pain,
I understand he is only being human,
I still love him the same,
and still he is my hero….

***

«The Poet As Hero» by Siegfried Sassoon

You’ve heard me, scornful, harsh, and discontented,
Mocking and loathing War: you’ve asked me why
Of my old, silly sweetness I’ve repented–
My ecstasies changed to an ugly cry.

You are aware that once I sought the Grail,
Riding in armour bright, serene and strong;
And it was told that through my infant wail
There rose immortal semblances of song.

But now I’ve said good-bye to Galahad,
And am no more the knight of dreams and show:
For lust and senseless hatred make me glad,
And my killed friends are with me where I go.
Wound for red wound I burn to smite their wrongs;
And there is absolution in my songs.

***

«The War Hero» by Donna Nimmo

He sat at the bar, drinking his Jack
Talking about the war, since he came back
It ruined his mind, and broke his spirit too
He had seen alot of death among his crew
He drank till he didn’t have to think at all
He drank till he couldn’t hear the bugal call
When not drinking, he was taking so many pills
Disabled now, his wife paying all the bills
His very soul was tortured all the time
From crawling in the jungle in the dirt and slime

Hearing the shots fired every where
He was shooting too, just a boy there
He lived the war over every night in his dreams
In his sleep he could still his buddies screams
The war took a young boy and ruined his life
But he was proud, he had served in all the strife
This good man died just a year ago
He fought for our freedom and we do owe
Our freedom takes the life of young men
They serve their country and most come home again

All their lives will never be the same
Some will return whole and some lame
I’m proud to be a citizen of the USA
Where we’re strong and proud and will never sway!

***

«Your Hero» by Francis Duggan

The heroes of the masses they live for their renown
And the masses create their heroes and then drag their heroes down
And the masses are unpredictable they change from day to day
And some of their heroes like the Autumn flowers are quick to fade away.

Yet there are millions of unsung heroes and they live on every street
And every day a hero I feel privileged to meet
True heroes male and female yet by the masses unsung
The World is full of heroes of heroes old and young.

Some heroes of the masses are arrogant and proud
And their egos over-swollen from the adulation of the crowd
But give me the unsung heroes who go their own quiet way
Who out of the kindness of their hearts perform one good deed every day.

Many heroes of the masses are not heroes to me
Though every day I walk the street some true hero I do see
Your hero is chauffeur driven and drinks the most expensive wine
And you can have your hero but your hero isn’t mine.