Poem Expert

A Change In You

I love the way you see nothing but good
In everyone you meet,
It makes me realise how cynical I am
When you act so naive and sweet.

I used to be just like you,
I loved everyone too.
But time has made me different,
Now I can spot a bad one in you.

I always used to love you,
No matter what you said,
But now I realise the love I had,
Was only in my head.

By Victoria Hughes

***

A Change Of Air

Now, a man in Oodnadatta
He grew fat, and he grew fatter,
Though he hardly had a thing to eat for dinner;
While a man in Booboorowie
Often sat and wondered how he
Could prevent himself from growing any thinner.

So the man from Oodnadatta
He came down to Booboorowie,
Where he rapidly grew flatter;

And the folk will tell you how he
Urged the man from Booboorowie
To go up to Oodnadatta –
Where he lived awhile, and now he
Is considerably fatter.

By Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

***

A Change Of Heart

I’m full of joy and richly blessed
Of Christ I’m never shy
I’ll journey through this world as guest
Until the day I die

Though old, grey near worldly dead
The grave my flesh may see
But souls who’ve eaten Heaven’s Bread
Will rise complete and free

Free of sin of eternal wrath
Free through innocent blood
Free to travel Christ’s trodden path
And live the way I should

It’s not too late to change your ways
Seek Jesus’ help on high
Fix on Him your fervent gaze
Or least of all to try

For God can see a troubled soul
The heart of those still blind
Seeking someone to make them whole
Searching for peace of mind

God sees the filth that keeps us bound
Lost, through satanic lies
He sees who seek the higher ground
In righteousness to rise

He sees who kill, rape, cheat, connive
Deceivers greedy for gain
Liars, thieves believing to thrive
Hoping with Christ to reign

Only who turn to live anew
Washed clean in Heaven’s Flame
As virgin bride God’s chosen few
Receive The Bride-Groom’s name.

By Michael P. Johnson

***

A Change Of Luck

It is said that a four leafed clover
Brings good luck to those that find
In the middle summer I looked all over
For a magic leaf of four… a rare kind

Then one day I discovered a quad-leaf
Inconspicuously growing in the lawn
Good luck would mine… this was my belief
Tomorrow will improve starting at dawn

The next morning I brushed my teeth
Then splashed warm water on my face
I did not notice the cat beneath my feet
Tripped and fell with no time to brace

Standing with bruised knees I wondered
How can this happen, how is it possible?
What twist of chance caused this blunder?
In too much haste… I was accountable

Then I realized that maybe I was fortunate
It least I did not break my bones in the fall
Hope for luck, turned out to be a distraction
Maybe an uneventful day is the luckiest of all…

By Theresa Ann Moore

***

A Change Of Seasons

Autumnal winds caress my face
as summer’s heated breeze expires.
The years have quickened in their pace,
foregoing my misplaced desires.

As winter lurks not far ahead
my memory drifts to warmer days,
where on a greener grass I tread
absorbing love’s adoring rays.

Beneath the August moon we’d dance,
embracing ’til the blaze of dawn,
but violent gusts would steal my chance
and whisk away the dreams I’d drawn.

Through fallen leaves of yesteryears
I sift for blades of thriving hope,
to help me cool these caustic tears
and find the strength and will to cope.

For in the autumn of my life
is when I’ll gain a peace within,
discarding weights of pain and strife
and letting reigns of joy begin.

Then when the days of fall conclude
and winter takes its turn on stage,
I know my soul will be renewed
as life records my final page.

By Jo Lynn EhnesAllen

***

A Little Bird Am I

I ask but this one small thing.
Give me the worldly skies
For I cannot stay trapped here
A little bird am I….

Let me leave this here land.
Don’t keep me in a cage.
Let me fly to the highest heights.
Let me come of age.
Let me soar among the clouds.
Let my wings spread into flight.
I need to be free; I need to see
The world without a fright.

I have spent my life so grounded,
But my instincts pull me up.
They tell me to go, to see the new,
To finger each buttercup.
I need to witness greatness,
need the sorrow of poverty.
I need to show the world my wings
And shed this gravity.

I want a life of freedom,
And I want to know what’s real.
I want to step to the edge of earth
And watch the sea reveal.
I want to take the longest ride,
And I want to feel the wind
I want to share this life with you,
So, forgive me, for I have sinned.

For I know I’m leaving you behind
To shadow in my wake,
But I cannot stay in these four walls
Simply for your sake.
I will keep you in my mirror.
With me you’ll always be.
I will share with you my tales,
And I will return to thee.

So I ask but this one small thing
Give me the worldly skies
For I cannot stay trapped here
A little bird am I….

By Hanna Eardley 

***

A Prayer For Change

As children of the universe
Our destination earth,
We ride upon the solar winds
Until the hour of birth
When scattered, weary travlers
Who’ve journeyed from afar
Begin their incarnation
On this cold and dying star;

What used to be so beautiful,

So vibrant green and blue
An oasis for the many
Has been wasted by the few,
What purpose in this torture
Of the motherhood of man?
What evil child will desecrate
His home because he can?

We’ve overstayed our welcome
It’s time for us to leave

And after our destruction
Will no man be left to grieve?
Sweet children of the universe
With hearts so pure and free
Release this star from bondage
With love’s celestial key!

Return these souls to heaven
Wrap this earth in slumber deep,
Awaken us with dreaming,
Let your love inside us creep
Then as buds upon the branches
Of Life’s tree on some spring morn’
We shall blossom into beauty
And this earth shall be reborn.

By Linda Ori

***

An Old Man’s Lament

When I was born
The world was waiting there for me
To smell, to touch, to taste, to see.
What wonders filled my little eyes.
Sounds and sights I’d never heard or seen.
I crawled, I stood on wobbly legs,
I fell, I walked, I ran,
I babbled, spoke,
I learned to read, I learned to write.

Then new wonders appeared before my eyes.
The Milkman in the early morn,
The Iceman with his blocks of ice,
The Organ Grinder and his dancing Monk,
The candies for our little store,
The sizzling buns with slabs of meat,
The hungry nurses with their dancing feet,
The midnight drive when work was done.
My days were filled with joy and fun.

The world was very good to me.
The years rolled by, and I became a man.
The girls I knew were pretty and bright.
I worked by day and loved by night.
I married late but married well.
Our children flourished and theirs did too.

For them, the world was bright and new,
Filled with wonders I neither knew nor learned:
I-Phone, Zoom, Instagram.
Somehow, the world had passed me by.
The Milkman and the Iceman had long since gone.
The Organ Grinder and his Monkey, too,
Were no longer there.

Corona filled the empty space.
Old in body, young in heart,
We vowed to never let it win.
The Nazis could not kill my wife.
This Virus, too, must spare my life.

So here we sit, alone, and wait
To reap the wonder of our fate.

By Moshe Sonnheim 

***

As Seasons Change As We

To everything there is a season,
A time of gladness, grief and cheer,
Smiles of laughter, sadness of tears,
For every sunset there’s a sunrise,
There is no rainbow without the rain,
No summer time without the spring,
Golden days and frosty nights,
Icy winds thoughout the days,
With winters newly fallen snows,
Whose years are like the seasons,

Let the future hold no doubt,
There’ll come a change of scene,
With rain bound skies of hope and love,
I have seen your different faces,
Life is like the changing seasons,
Upward always climb,
As the seasons change as we.

By Deborah M. Vanderwood

***

As You Grow

As you grow up, the view will start to change.
The embrace of the first morning’s light,
Running for hours beneath the blue.
All of it seems to be there just for you.
The days were long and hushed.
When did it all become such a rush?

As you grow, the view starts to change.
Your hours are no longer free.
It is just the way it has to be.
The price to pay for growing up
Will be the bill you fear the most.
Age may be just a number,
But no one talks about the word that tags along:
Responsibility!

As you grow, the view will start to change.
It may be odd to say,
But it will be okay.
The road is long.
The price is steep,
But dare I say…
It is worth the leap.
For one simple reason.

As you grew, the view changed.
Long gone are the hours of endless blue.
The hours have passed.
Your time is up.
Was it all well spent?

Your view has changed.
But another’s eyes have just opened up
To the morning’s first light,
The endless hours of blue.
The price has been met,
All just for one reason,
To give this gift to you…
Of nothing else but
Simpler times.

By Tasha R. Dragoo

***

Before I…

Before I became strong, I knew what it was like
To be weak,
How difficult it is to love yourself,
To find the wholeness that you seek.

Before I knew the light,
I have had my fair share of darkness, too,
Where my world fell into a hopelessness
And I didn’t know how to get through.

For I have known the tears it takes,
The courage to stand up again,
When you are broken down and bruised
And you know nothing but the pain.

You forget to appreciate love,
If you haven’t seen the hate,
Till you forget the meaning of smile and laughter,
And your heart is left abate.

I have known the strength and courage
It requires to get it right,
To face the things that hold you down
And hold your head up and fight.

Before I was who I am now,
I was someone I didn’t want to be.
I was lost, battered, and defeated,
Before I knew how to be me!

By Insiya K. Patanwala

***

Brotherhood Among Us

Can’t we all come and meet each other
And no matter what colour we may be
Be able to show we love one another
And then together we’ll stand, you and me
The leaders of Tomorrow,
Planning for what is to come
Otherwise there will be lots of needless sorrow
Over killing which is quite dumb.

So come closer now and grab my hand
And we’ll accept each other as brothers
And then together we’ll be able to stand
To show our Father and Mothers
We want to plan for a common future
No matter what our race, colour or culture.

By Milton Louw

***

Can’T Change The Weather

Crisp and white and cold
It was a beautiful snowy day
Life seemed devoid of turmoil
As I watched the ducks at play

Trees covered in their lacy winter white
The sky was gray with threatening snow
And yet a bit of white peaked through
It was the best kind’a day I know

And as I drove across a bridge
Slush was forming and the snow rearranged
It seemed as though there was a pause
I knew something was about to change

I love the changing of the weather
A cold and blowing storm
And then as quick as fingers snap
It would be sunny and sweet and warm

I guess whatever the season
Or whatever the weather right now
We might as well just settle in
Can’t change the weather anyhow!

By Marilyn Lott

***

Can’T Change Who I Am

i walk in clothes you don’t like,
i hangout with friends you don’t like,
why can’t you just excpet the way i am,
i can’t not change, its who i am,

this is who i am,
the person i am growing up to be,
don’t you understand,
i am who i want to be,
can’t you just let it go,

because this is who i am,
you can’t change a thing.

you let her walk in skimpy clothes,
when all i want to wear is black,
she goes and dates older men,
when i only date guys my age and you still won’t let it go.

you don’t have to worry,
don’t you want me to be happy?

if you do then let it be.

this is who i am,
the person i am growing up to be,
don’t you understand,
i am who i want to be,
can’t you just let it go,
because this is who i am,
you can’t change a thing.

By Katie Huntress

***

Chance And Change

For one ruined in love, the old status quo
Offers comfort of a kind tho’ cold.
Suffering neglect, your heart is a wreck,
Yet one’s vow demands payment of debt.

Honorbound to see old promises through,
Despite the cost and the loss, you do.
For years it’s been wrong, and forever’s so long,
Wanting to be held, to be known, to belong.

Chances to let go, to be free and to know
How good it feels as love flowers and grows
Have come and gone just as dusk chases dawn,
Like pretty dreams light a world dark and wan.

Change is a Chance taken – – not another need
Forsaken to spare one whose tight heart will bleed.
Don’t fear that long leap o’er the abyss of trust,
Just close your eyes… life without love is but dust.

By Esther Leclerc

***

Change

Changed? Yes, I will confess it – I have changed.
I do not love you in the old fond way.
I am your friend still – time has not estranged
One kindly feeling of that vanished day.

But the bright glamour which made life a dream,
The rapture of that time, its sweet content,
Like visions of a sleeper’s brain they seem –
And yet I cannot tell you how they went.

Why do you gaze with such accusing eyes
Upon me, dear? It is so very strange
That hearts, like all things underneath God’s skies,
Should sometimes feel the influence of change?

The birds, the flowers, the foliage of the trees,
The stars which seem so fixed, and so sublime,
Vast continents, and the eternal seas, –
All these do change, with ever-changing time.

The face our mirror shows us year on year
Is not the same; our dearest aim, or need,
Our lightest thought, or feeling hope, or fear,
All, all the law of alternation heed.

How can we ask the human heart to stay,
Content with fancies of Youth’s earliest hours?
The year outgrows the violets of May,
Although, maybe, there are no fairer flowers.

And life may hold no sweeter love than this,
Which lies so cold, so voiceless, and so dumb,
And will I miss it, dear? Why, yes, we miss
The violets always – till the roses come!

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

***

Change

Thoughts broke down from my dreams demise
As I shut my dreaming eyes
Stars flickered out
My wish lost truth
As I cried in a phone booth
The string untied
Memories faded away
I cried all night and I cried all day

Missing you

And you haven’t even left me
Missing who
You used to be
I’m missing you
And I wish
That you’d leave me,
Just wish
That you’d leave me alone

Knowledge broke through

Hope lost touch
I cried too much
Just thinking of you
The pain came down
My smile turned to frown
And I wish I could walk away
I just with that I could walk away

Missing you
And you haven’t even left me
Missing who
You used to be
I’m missing you
And I wish
That you’d leave me,
Just wish
That you’d leave me alone

By Christal Carpenter

***

Change Is All

No one will ever know how I feel,
For I cannot even explain it all.
Nobody to love,
Nobody to blame,
Everyone always the same.
Nothing to care about,
No reason to lie,
For I am me, myself, and I.
No one sees what I see,
Nobody left to care for me.
It’s kind of sad knowing what’s true,
‘Cause then you know who’s there for you.
Most of them just put on that act.
A lot of them talk bad about me behind my back.
Thanks for making me feel this way,
There’s nothing more I should have to say.
All the times I was alone
Makes me feel weird when someone’s home.
No family for support, no friends to care.
People wonder why I don’t go anywhere.
Every night crying myself to sleep,
Sometimes I wish someone loved me.
No hope, no love, no life, no friends.
The pain never ends.
Sometimes I ask what did I do to deserve this.
But nobody answers.
A voice in my head tells me to forget the bad and remember good.
But then I answer to myself saying there is no good to remember.
I always yell at myself asking why me? Why?
Sitting in a empty spare room.
No one to talk to about how I feel.
No one to ask me what I feel.
Is anyone out there in this harsh world we live in?
Sometimes I begin to wonder.
Sometimes I’m harsh on myself.
Morn comes and I wake up wishing I was never born.
Please help others, because today’s lives
Are being taken out of this world just as easy as they are coming in.
You can change someone’s life.
Make a change.
It’s a tough world.

By Olivia Libby

***

Change Of Adress

Dear Friend, please note that my adress
Has changed since you were last my guest
When you just walked in through my door
And one weeks stay turned into four
You made me stay up late at nights
While you put all the world to rights
But everyday you’d stay in bed
While i went out with aching head
And later with the setting sun
I found the dishes still werent done

And there you were just watching cheers
and drinking one of my cold beers
You took control of my whole life
I’m sure you thought i was your wife
And when at last you went your way
Not a penny did you pay
So now i’ve moved you’ll want to know
And maybe come again and so
In case you feel that way disposed
My new adress is not enclosed

By Bridgid Patrick

***

Change Of Seasons

The Summer season gradually fades away,
Nature’s way of bidding a humble farewell to all.
A change is seen as the leaves fade in unison
As the beautiful Autumn season comes to call.

September – the sounds in the garden are quiet now,
The song birds are no longer to be found.
Flying high up in the cloudy sky,
Many feathered friends are southward bound.

October – the trees are covered with tantalizing colors
Of red and gold and yellow and even brown,
And crimson, too, in a multitude of fashion
The leaves come wafting down.

November – fringed with frost and nippy cold,
The fading days of Autumn are everywhere.
A quiet state of melancholy days
With signs of a changing season in the air.

December – All of a sudden the winds of winter blow,
The falling snow begins to pile high.
We are delighted for the bounty Autumn has provided,
Uttering words of thank you – with an appreciative sigh.

By Joseph T. Renaldi

***

Change The Change

We jubilated that the masses
Took up arms against the soldiers
Who attempted a coup
We celebrated the free
And fair elections that won
With landslide
All these do not translate
To the fact that democracy
Has won.
We are in a vehicle of

Statusquo ante
Same hunger abode in our stomachs
Same lakes on our thoroughfare
Same sirens blaring on our roads
Same electors yearning for a change
And change won’t come
Until the change is changed.

By Tony Adah

***

Change The Winds

We cannot change the winds,
but the sails – yes, we can do
to find smooth paths without sins,
to suit direction for me and you.

Life’s struggles damage, without mirth,
and we need to move on and find
our true selves and our own self worth,
before we have our peace of mind.

‘Seek and ye shall find’ is a message sent,
and of that we should gain faith and hope
that our plea has gone to God – and went
to where an answer is found for us to cope.

By Colleen Wright

***

Change Upon Change

Five months ago the stream did flow,
The lilies bloomed within the sedge,
And we were lingering to and fro,
Where none will track thee in this snow,
Along the stream, beside the hedge.
Ah, Sweet, be free to love and go!
For if I do not hear thy foot,
The frozen river is as mute,
The flowers have dried down to the root:
And why, since these be changed since May,

Shouldst thou change less than they.

And slow, slow as the winter snow
The tears have drifted to mine eyes;
And my poor cheeks, five months ago
Set blushing at thy praises so,
Put paleness on for a disguise.
Ah, Sweet, be free to praise and go!
For if my face is turned too pale,
It was thine oath that first did fail, —

It was thy love proved false and frail, —
And why, since these be changed enow,
Should I change less than thou.

By Elizabeth Barrett Browning

***

Change, The Inevitable

Change is to one man the death of a friend,
To another the birth of a child.
Change is the shifting of soft winds of spring,
to a hurricane deadly and wild.

Change is the moving of the hourglass sands,
It’s the coming of dawn after dark.
Change is taking one step at a time,
The emotion in each persons heart.

But change in the end, will not change at all
The one constant in everyone’s lives
Change is the light at the end of the tunnel
The healer who opens our eyes.

By Jake Harris

***

Childhood Memories

I was happy when I was a lad.
It wasn’t all good, but it wasn’t half bad.
We played with sticks we played with stones;
we built ourselves dens that we called homes.

We explored the woods, we climbed the trees,
and we played with marbles on our knees.
Conkers in season we threaded with string.
If your opponent missed, your knuckles would sting.

We built trolleys with old pram wheels.
We were often too busy to go home for our meals.
We made catapults, bows and arrows and spears,
quite often resulting in painful tears.

We scrumped apples, plums and pears;
of getting caught, we had no cares.
In fact, we were often caught, and our ears clipped,
no smart replies – we never lipped.

During the long school summer holidays when the sun shone bright,
we played outside from morning to night.
War games, tin can tommy, hide and seek,
Such fun we’d have, what havoc we’d wreak.

Raiding allotments, pinching what grew.
We’d get a good hiding if our parents knew.
Round blazing open fires on logs we would sit.
In the pitch-black night our faces it lit.

We’d have singsongs and tell tales of ghosts,
of things we had done, exaggerated boasts.
Now looking back, such a long time it seems.
Sometimes I wonder was it all in my dreams.

But then I remember all the things that I did
could only be done when I was a kid!

By Paul L. Kennedy

***

Everything That Will Not Change

I want to remember the world this way:
The light, steadfast on the windowsill,
a breathless sky and the autumn as beautiful
as it is bitter.

The way it was just yesterday
when you held me against your chest, against
a backdropp of sunset: so many colors
evolving into darkness- rearranging themselves
into the first evening shadows.

I want to sleep with the memory of you
still fresh inside of my head, and the scent
of your kisses still clinging to my lips.
Your eyes: cathartic pools I wish I could dive into,
to drown myself in their prismatic vision.

How does it feel to see the world, to see life
through a third eye?

I wish I could see beyond my sorrow and live
beyond my darkness- then I’d see myself
not entirely unraveled, but tearing at the seams
to become something more, something other than
the girl with a big smile to sacrifice to the world,
who will always be just a little bit sad.

By Amberlee Carter

***

Going Forth

What will it take to free this mind,
Imprisoned long in apathy,
Now reduced to mundane thoughts
That stultify activity?

What words might somehow trickle up
Through dormant webs of talent,
Releasing from the tangled depths,
A joy once prevalent?

I stand and peer outside my cave,
Security behind me.
Am I afraid to take the chance
Success might someday find me?

Can I withstand the pounding waves
That new ideas foment?
Or shall I once again retreat,
In dullness be content?

Time laughs as I now hesitate.
It says, “Can I keep waiting?
Afraid to leave my placid nest,
Just stay there still debating?”

No! Not when new horizons
Are reaching out to find me.
The glove is thrown, the die is cast.
I close the door behind me.

By Alora M. Knight 

***

I Cannot Change, As Others Do

I cannot change, as others do,
Though you unjustly scorn;
Since that poor swain that sighs for you,
For you alone was born.
No, Phyllis, no, your heart to move
A surer way I’ll try:
And to revenge my slighted love,
Will still love on, will still love on, and die.

When, killed with grief, Amintas lies

And you to mind shall call,
The sighs that now unpitied rise,
The tears that vainly fall,
That welcome hour that ends this smart
Will then begin your pain;
For such a fauthful tender heart
Can never break, can never break in vain.

By Lord John Wilmot

***

I Have A Dream, Too

I have a dream, too
But must walk across the stage,
But in order to do that,
I must leave this day and age.

I’ll leave friendships and bonds
With friends old and new.
It’s gone by so fast,
It doesn’t seem true.

I’ve become a better person
It’s been so much fun,
And it seems like I’ve gone from a walk to a run.

I have a dream for the future
But I fear too much change.
I fear once I move on
It won’t be the same.

A family, new friends, a house, and a car,
To go to that from this,
It just seems so far.

I wish it would stop
But it goes faster and faster.
The more I struggle
The less I seem to last here.

By Cody Duggins

***

I Want To Change The World

I want to change the world
I want to impact it so deep
That I reach the core
I want to change the meaning of peace
To something permanent
I want to open doors
And shut out doubt
I want the past to dissolve
It makes my ears bleed
Mistakes linked in memory
Times so hard the world shakes in its boots

I want to change the world
The sun rises and then sets
But leaves its mark before it goes
It creates life and growth
The moon brings serenity and mystery
Both bring death too
I want the growth to shine through
But erase the death
I want to change the world
But I would not dare change the past

By Allyson Bogan

***

Men At Forty

Men at forty
Learn to close softly
The doors to rooms they will not be
Coming back to.

At rest on a stair landing,
They feel it
Moving beneath them now like the deck of a ship,
Though the swell is gentle.

And deep in mirrors
They rediscover
The face of the boy as he practices trying
His father’s tie there in secret

And the face of that father,
Still warm with the mystery of lather.
They are more fathers than sons themselves now.
Something is filling them, something

That is like the twilight sound
Of the crickets, immense,
Filling the woods at the foot of the slope
Behind their mortgaged houses.

By  Donald Justice

***

My Inner Child

Looking through the window
There is a small child
Sitting with his pillow
He has been there for a while

He is nervous about the room
And the place where he stands
His smile turns to gloom
When he sees my large hands

Looking deeper through the pane
To see what is wrong
He’s not sure he is sane
He has been there way too long

As I peer into the glass
This child starts to fade
Leaving no mass
And me standing in the shade

By Bryan P. Mix

***

My World With Love And God

My future is coming alive.
All tomorrows will be mine.
It’s just around the corner,
Just a pause in time.

I see into the days ahead
And what I want for me.
I see smiles and happiness,
All the love I want there to be.

A house is not a home
Unless with love it stands,
And I would not be full
Without the love of man.

A yard is just a yard,
But with pretty flowers to grow,
It makes the sight so colorful.
It makes you proud, you know?

And alone we cannot be,
For two together as one
Is what God wanted, you see.
Hand in hand with love.

So come with me to my world.
It’s a world of goodness and care.
Come with me, I’ll take you.
Never hurt, only love, will be there.

By Michelle Strattis

***

Nothing Stays The Same

The earth spins like a rolling ball.
Stars shine bright then fade away.
Darkness melts and turns to light.
The sunrise starts another day.
The sun dips slowly into the sea.
The moon will wax and wane.
The sea will rise and falls with tides.
And you will love again.

Nothing ever stays the same.
Mountains change with time.
Rivers flow and lakes run dry.
Salty tears will flood the eye.
Healing follows after pain.
A crush of grape becomes fine wine.
And you will love again.
Yes! You will love again.

By Carol A. Andrews 

***

Radical Change

Radical change occurs in all men, who from God are Born Again,
Born through the Spirit of Christ, and born again unto a New Life.
Change begins when you believe, as The Holy Spirit you receive,
This as Christ begins to reside, in The Spirit who now lives inside.

Change isn’t obvious at the start, but occurs if He’s in your heart,
Dwelling inside, to make you anew, helping you in all that you do.
You friend, now belong to Him, the One who died for all your sin,
And the new life that Christ gives, changes how the Believer lives.

God doesn’t change who we are, but changes us deeper and far,
Changes which go into Eternity, far greater than any eye can see.
The Lord truly changes everyone, who comes to accept His Son,
Changing the way we live, radically, as a testimony for all to see.

Changes we choose for The Lord; changes that won’t go ignored,
Radically changing all former ways, for living out remaining days.
Changes made by His power, transforming us each day and hour,
Through the power of His name, God creates in us lasting change.

From within God’s Spirit inspires, many changes to all our desires,
Directed by a power much higher, to guide every need and desire,
By Christ who had died for me, to direct my heart towards eternity,
With God’s power in my life, I’m radically changed for Jesus Christ.

By Bob Gotti

***

Sea Of Change

The clouds never break
Like blue waters do
On this Island of Pain.
How can I stand true?

The birds never sing
And the love never finds
This Island of Pain
Where the sun never shines.

The stars never gleam
And the moon never glows.
There’s never a dream,
And the river that flows

Is filled with my tears
That lead to the Bay
Of this Island of Pain
Where I’m destined to stay.

There, in the distance,
The fog starts to rise,
As I awaken
To warm, sunny skies.

No longer a captive
So long lost at sea,
This Island of Hope
Appears before me.

The Sea of Serenity
Waves at the shore.
Of this Island of Hope,
I just can’t ignore.

The birds always sing
And the love always finds
This Island of Hope
Where the sun always shines.

The stars always gleam
And the moon always glows.
There’s never a tear
And the soft wind that blows

Is filled with my dreams
That lead to the shore
Of this Island of Hope
Where I’ll live evermore.

By Douglas J. Olson

***

Seasons Yet To Come

They gave us all a calendar
At work this afternoon.
Suddenly it dawns on me,
The year is ending soon!

Comes January, cold and gray.
The new year’s just beginning.
And February, short and bright
With Valentine hearts winning.

Comes March, the windy roaring one
And warm the sun of spring.
Then April, bright of shining sky
And flowers blossoming.

Comes May, and school comes to a close
With children’s happy laughter.
Then June, with open city pools
And picnics soon thereafter.

July comes booming with a bang
Of red-glared rockets blasting.
Then August lingers with its heat
That seems so…everlasting.

September, gold September comes.
The year is growing older.
October with sweet Halloween.
The nights grow dark and colder.

November smells of harvest,
Of turkey and Thanksgiving.
December comes with joy and light
To fill hearts of the living.

Each page I flip and see these things
Of days yet to come.
My calendar is a door to me,
An adventure just begun!

By Rick W. Cotton

***

Seeds Of Growth

Water the seed, and a plant will grow.
Feed the plant, and a tree will grow.
Give a tree room, and it will bloom.
A seed to a plant,
A plant to a tree,
A boy to a man,
A man to a father.
Care for the boy, and the man will grow.
Teach the man, and a father will grow.
I see my boys.
I see my joy.
Care for my boys, and I, the man, will grow.
Teach me, my boys, and your father will grow.
You can’t have the tree without the plant.
You can’t have the plant without the seed.
I can’t be a father without being a man.
I, the man, can’t be a father without my boys.
The cycle of life.
The man, the boys, the father.
The seed, the plant, the tree.

By David Rivera

***

Sonnet 123: No, Time, Thou Shalt Not Boast That I Do Change

No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change.
Thy pyramids built up with newer might
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
They are but dressings of a former sight.
Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire
What thou dost foist upon us that is old,
And rather make them born to our desire
Than think that we before have heard them told.
Thy registers and thee I both defy,
Not wond’ring at the present, nor the past,

For thy records, and what we see doth lie,
Made more or less by thy continual haste:
This I do vow and this shall ever be:
I will be true despite thy scythe and thee.

By William Shakespeare

***

Than The Days Will Ever Know

Playing on the Grammar School lot,
In a uniform I’d rather not.
One of ‘The Boys in High School’
Yeah, pretty tough and sometimes cruel.

Then one day, love chose me
Through a girl, a last dance;
I knew
My wife she’d be.

We worked, we loved, and grew up together;
Raising three children through all life’s weather.
Traveled the country ’cause of my job,
Left family and home, late at night we’d silently sob.

One child left the nest to wed; now there are two
So many changes, life hurls us through.
With love we rejoice, yet we’re doomed to suffer equal loss,
So enjoy the day and those you love, at any and all costs.

For there’s one thing in life I’m certain,
As sure as the wind’s gonna blow,
Make each and every day count because
The years teach more than the days will ever know.

By Steve J. Clymer

***

That’s Life

This life is a wonderful gift .. accept it, embrace it. 
It starts with a new day .. wake up and greet it.
Life is a challenge .. take it head on and meet it.
Full of opportunity .. use it, don’t waste it.

This life is a mystery .. unfold it, solve it.
It starts with meaning .. wake up and understand it.
Life is a goal .. take it head on and achieve it.
Full of promise .. fulfill it but keep it.

This life is a tragedy .. face it, accept it.
It starts with pain .. wake up and help numb it.
Life is a struggle .. take it head on and fight it.
Full of sorrow .. sorry, just overcome it.

This life is precious .. hold it, treasure it,
It starts with hope .. wake up and feel it.
Life is a choice .. take it head on and make it.
Full of knowledge .. use it, don’t abuse it.

This life is adventurous .. enjoy it, explore it.
It starts with a duty .. wake up and perform it.
Life is love .. take it full on and love it.
Full of beauty .. praise it and behold it.

That life is life .. live it, learn and grow
Life is good .. be good with all that you know.

By Danny Joyce

***

The Change

She leaned out into the soft June weather,
With her long loose tresses the night breeze played;
Her eyes were as blue as the bells on the heather:
Oh, what is so fair as a fair young maid!

She folded her hands, like the leaves of a lily,
‘My life, ‘ she said, ‘is a night in June,
Fair and quiet, and calm and stilly;
Bring me a change, O changeful moon!

‘Who would drift on a lake forever?
Young hearts weary – it is not strange,
And sigh for the beautiful bounding river;
New moon, true moon, bring me a change! ‘

The rose that rivalled her maiden blushes
Dropped from her breast, at a strangers feet;
Only a glance; but the hot blood rushes
To mantle a fair face, shy and sweet.

To and fro, while the moon is waning,
They walk, and the stars shine on above;
And one is in earnest, and one is feigning –
Oh, what is so sweet as a sweet young love?

A young life crushed, and a young heart broken,
A bleak wind blows through the lovely bower,
And all that remains of the love vows spoken –
Is the trampled leaf of a faded flower.

The night is dark, for the moon is failing –
And what is so pale as a pale old moon?
Cold is the wind through the tree tops wailing –
Woe that the change should come so soon.

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

***

The Change Of Time

The change of time
Affects us in days to come,
The future is unknown
Who knows where it’s from?
We run out of luck
If things stay the same,
Or we will be forever stuck
In the memory game.
Waves of time will play
With us and give us grieve,

Each year has a turning way
In all our thoughts and believe.
The change of things
Comes with each New Year,
Who’ll ever know what it brings
A smile or twinklings tear?
We love though alterity
When they are new and exiting,
Exotic things to be
In days ahead hiding.

Like glowing embroidery
Of drifting time gone by,
The moments dwell in me
Such souvenir can’t die.
The change in a life
Is beyond a reason,
Though regret is rife
For each and every season.
All old to new then sings
What comes and goes we bear,
Like silver bells it rings
In each of memories ear.
I can not futures see
Or what to me they bring,
Still they’re flying free
So playful is their wing.
The change, comes and goes
Produces us daily on,
The past mind’s eye glows
Who knows where it’s gone?

By Peter S. Quinn

***

The Ghost Of My Past

Fumbling, stumbling,
around in the dark.
Fighting, igniting,
flames from a spark.

Blinded, reminded,
of the fear inside.
Turning, yearning,
for a place to hide.

Soaking, choking,
struggling to breathe.
Hiding, abiding,
my ghost won’t leave.

Chasing, racing,
I stagger away.
Breathless, restless
in the mud I lay.

Dreaming, gleaming,
I escape the past.
Winning, new beginning,
I am free at last.

By Lee W. Barker

***

The Happy Change

How bless’d Thy creature is, O God,
When with a single eye,
He views the lustre of Thy Word,
The dayspring from on high!

Through all the storms that veil the skies
And frown on earthly things,
The Sun of Righteousness he eyes,
With healing on His wings.

Struck by that light, the human heart,
A barren soil no more,
Sends the sweet smell of grace abroad,
Where serpents lurk’d before.

The soul, a dreary province once
Of Satan’s dark domain,
Feels a new empire form’d within,
And owns a heavenly reign.

The glorious orb whose golden beams
The fruitful year control,
Since first obedient to Thy WOrd,
He started from the goal,

Has cheer’d the nations with the joys
His orient rays impart;
But, Jesus, ’tis Thy light alone
Can shine upon the heart.

By William Cowper

***

The Mentor

I paused to stand and watch a man who had come to the road’s divide.
My wonder soared as I watched his stare slowly shift from side to side.
He stood as if not noticing that many passed him by.
They moved without a second glance down the road most traveled by.

Then as I watched, he stepped full stride toward the path of lesser wear,
And soon he vanished from my view round a bend into the snare.
I soon, like him, stood center road, faced with that daunting choice.
My gaze down his road, causing fear, I quenched my inner voice.

For miles I walked the crowded road breathing dust from others’ feet,
Until in despair I stopped and stood, my heart and soul deplete.
I gazed about, still holding hope, the other path I’d see.
On yonder hill I saw him there, the man who mentored me.

The path between us steep and rough, unforged with dangers there,
Yet still I left my path of friends, ignoring their bewares.
I pressed through hardship, pain and fear o’er rocks jagged and bent.
In time I crashed limp on that path, my every resource spent.

But then a warming touch I felt, a friendly voice I heard.
It said, get up and tread this path. I rose without a word.
And as I looked, I saw him there, he continued on his way.
His only words as he walked on…”You’re on the path, now stay.”

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I chose in err.
But looking back, perhaps as well…all memories now seem fair.
Much time I spent on the beaten path, and what I learned, immense.
But I reached, at last, the other path, and it has still made all of the difference.

By Jeff Bresee 

***

The Need Of Women

I just know there’s more
In the sea of skies above,
Holding in those many things of her
Thoughts that come to mind,
Remembering her moments and mine.
There’s a cloud that rains and nothing but blame falls
I’m becoming a man ,
Every day I learn how to depend on myself
Instead of falling back into her lap and cry.
I resist and shout
And roar, I’m proud to say…this fight of life
Stalking you behind your back,
It seems all the girls walk in stacks
Wondering if fate plays a role.
The pain of mine can’t simply fade away.
Nothing worth what I had with you even if it changed a lot.
So much to do to make a life fit for again
Searching for the perfect soulmate
Taste of Change…

By Rayan Al Sheikh 

***

The Will To Win

If you want a thing bad enough
To go out and fight for it,
Work day and night for it,
Give up your time and your peace and
your sleep for it

If only desire of it
Makes you quite mad enough
Never to tire of it,
Makes you hold all other things tawdry
and cheap for it

If life seems all empty and useless without it
And all that you scheme and you dream is about it,

If gladly you’ll sweat for it,
Fret for it, Plan for it,
Lose all your terror of God or man for it,

If you’ll simply go after that thing that you want.
With all your capacity,
Strength and sagacity,
Faith, hope and confidence, stern pertinacity,

If neither cold poverty, famished and gaunt,
Nor sickness nor pain
Of body or brain
Can turn you away from the thing that you want,

If dogged and grim you besiege and beset it,
You’ll get it!

By Berton Braley

***

Villanelle Of Change

Since Persia fell at Marathon,
The yellow years have gathered fast:
Long centuries have come and gone.

And yet (they say) the place will don
A phantom fury of the past,
Since Persia fell at Marathon;

And as of old, when Helicon
Trembled and swayed with rapture vast

(Long centuries have come and gone),

This ancient plain, when night comes on,
Shakes to a ghostly battle-blast,
Since Persia fell at Marathon.

But into soundless Acheron
The glory of Greek shame was cast:
Long centuries have come and gone,

The suns of Hellas have all shone,
The first has fallen to the last: —
Since Persia fell at Marathon,
Long centuries have come and gone.

By Edwin Arlington Robinson

***

Winds Of Change

Oh, God the winds of change, they are blowing
Bringing a revolution to this life
Whether relief or challenge, not knowing
Always of benefit, even in strife

What of the days past of comfort and rest
Whose hours were filled with laughter and joy
To be a child once more: happy, blessed
For the simple things in life to enjoy

Oh, but these winds of change aren’t new to me
I am used to being tossed to and fro
Though these winds don’t always bring harmony
They all bring opportunity to grow

So, let the rain pour down upon my roof
Let the sun beat harshly upon my head
May this wind, no matter the storm, be proof
That you, oh God, are with us where we tread

By Danny Speicher

***

Yes, I’ll Go On Laughing

When worries and fears I claim for my own,
When I feel helpless and all alone,
When my deepest memories come to mind
And all my sadness I leave behind,
Then yes, I’ll go on laughing.
When I feel I’m going under with nothing
To hold onto,
When dark shadows cloud my senses,
My sadness and fears I’ll be through.
When sweet, gentle ways have come to pass
And I get my fill of sadness at last,
Then yes, I’ll go on laughing.
When I give up and go on living
And become wiser than I am,
I’ll try not to cry tomorrow
So this heart and soul shall mend.
Then yes, I’ll go on laughing.

By Jac Judy A. Campbell

***

You Cannot Change The Past

You cannot change the past ’tis gone forever
And worrying only turns your hair to gray
And remember ’tis the future’s all that matter
For we cannot change what happened yesterday.

Don’t harbour grudges for grudges only harm you
For a grudge like a cancer only grow
ill feeling on you can become a burden
And you’ll feel happier when you leave your grudges go.

Karma will take care of all wrongdoers
And all of those who harm others in any way
Will one day for their mistakes feel regretful
When to karma they will have a price to pay.

You cannot change the past what’s done is over
Before we walked we had to learn to crawl
And from the book of life we’re always learning
And the future’s all that matter after all.

The past is gone and the past is past changing
And let bygones be bygones so it has been said
And put more of your thought energy into your future
For your happier days for you might be ahead.

By Francis Duggan

A Better Place

This world would be a better place.
If we forgave each other and gave some grace
When others do wrong, we are quick to blame
But many times, we are the same.

Brotherhood of man can be
A realization can’t you see.
Helping each other, lending a hand
Rather than anger and demands.

Rather than judge each other
We should act more like brothers.
Loving one another changes things
And peace to the world it would bring.

By Catherine Pulsifer

***

A Brother Dear

Happy Birthday to a brother who is dear
As you read this, I can see your grin ear to ear.
Yes, it is me, your sister saying your dear.
Did you ever think those words you would hear?

But, you, my brother, you’re the best.
Your age shows you’re reaching the crest.
It’s over the hill for you now.
So let your sister please allow

A song I want to sing for you
Siblings, we will always be, that’s true.
And with the age, you are now at
It’s okay, you’re a little fat.

All joking aside, I wish you a Happy Day.
May you enjoy it in every way
We want you to know we are always there.
And for you, we do care!

By Catherine Pulsifer

***

Autism Within My Brother

Inseparable.
Partner in crime.
Together forever.
A lemon and lime

Normal as can be.
Love you always.
Special to me.
Comforting.

A rock star kid.
Good times and bad.
Astonishing changes.
You’re trending a fad.

Autism.
Autistic.
Special needs if you please,
But retarded, that word never should you speak.

A heart of gold.
One amazing soul.
A special young man, so very bold.
Afraid.

Looking for friends.
The words just don’t seem right.
This isn’t very fair.
Seemingly can’t take flight.

Autism affects his social reaction.
Inspiration.
He has trouble with getting anyone’s attraction.
Bullies.

He will make you laugh.
He will treat you right.
Wanting normality.
He’s funny and bright.

He is my little brother
He means the world to me.
You can call him autistic but
he will always be the sugar in my tea.

By Anna Hall

***

Big Brother

Big brother, how I loved you
Big brother, why did you leave
Big brother, you promised you’d stay
Big brother, you never came back

Big brother, I was supposed to go first
Big brother, they still need you
Big brother, I still need you
Big brother, you promised me you’d be here

Big brother, no one else will understand me
Big brother who will be here for me
Big brother, our plans will never be the same
Big brother, no one can fill the gap you left me

Big brother, you’re no longer tan
Big brother, you’re no longer warm
Big brother, you no longer move
Big brother, you no longer make me smile

Big brother, they say you’re never coming back
Big brother, I know their wrong, you promised
Big brother, you bгоке your promise
Big brother you left me, lifeless, just like you…

By Chandler Darlingz

***

Born Brothers 

Equality is absolute or no.
Nothing between can stand. We are the sons
Of the same sire, or madness breaks and runs
Through the rude world. Ridiculous our woe
If single pity does not love it. So
Our separate fathers love us. No man shuns
His poorest child’s embrace. We are the sons
Of such, or ground and sky are soon to go.

Nor do born brothers judge, as good or ill,
Their being. Each consents and is the same,
Or suddenly sweet winds turn into flame
And floods are on us–fire, earth, water, air
All hideously parted, as his will
Withdraws, no longer fatherly and there.

By Mark van Doren

***

Brother

Brother,
oh brother.

Brother, can’t you see,
you’re tearing me apart.
Brother, won’t you see,
this war beats on my heart.

Brother, please remember,
when we were once one.
Brother, please remember,
all the songs we’ve sung.

Brother, oh brother,
can we still be friends?
Brother, of brother,
this can’t be the end.

Brother, have we lost,
everything we had.
Brother, can we erase,
all that has gone bad.

Brother, have we killed,
all our brotherhood.
Never thought you’d hate me,
never thought you would.

Brother, oh brother,
can we still be friends?
Brother, of brother,
this can’t be the end.

Brother, oh brother,
we will never be friends.
Brother, oh brother,
this will be the end.

By Barry Andrew Pietrantonio

***

Brother And Sister

I cannot choose but think upon the time
When our two lives grew like two buds that kiss
At lightest thrill from the bee’s swinging chime,
Because the one so near the other is.

He was the elder and a little man
Of forty inches, bound to show no dread,
And I the girl that puppy-like now ran,
Now lagged behind my brother’s larger tread.

I held him wise, and when he talked to me
Of snakes and birds, and which God loved the best,
I thought his knowledge marked the boundary
Where men grew blind, though angels knew the rest.

If he said ‘Hush!’I tried to hold my breath;
Wherever he said ‘Come!’I stepped in faith.

By George Eliot

***

Brother and Sister

The shorn moon trembling indistinct on her path,
Frail as a scar upon the pale blue sky,
Draws towards the downward slope: some sorrow hath
Worn her down to the quick, so she faintly fares
Along her foot-searched way without knowing why
She creeps persistent down the sky’s long stairs.

Some day they see, though I have never seen,
The dead moon heaped within the new moon’s arms;
For surely the fragile, fine young thing had been
Too heavily burdened to mount the heavens so.
But my heart stands still, as a new, strong dread alarms
Me; might a young girl be heaped with such shadow of woe?

Since Death from the mother moon has pared us down to the quick,
And cast us forth like shorn, thin moons, to travel
An uncharted way among the myriad thick
Strewn stars of silent people, and luminous litter
Of lives which sorrows like mischievous dark mice chavel
To nought, diminishing each star’s glitter,

Since Death has delivered us utterly, naked and white,
Since the month of childhood is over, and we stand alone,
Since the beloved, faded moon that set us alight
Is delivered from us and pays no heed though we moan
In sorrow, since we stand in bewilderment, strange
And fearful to sally forth down the sky’s long range.

We may not cry to her still to sustain us here,
We may not hold her shadow back from the dark.
Oh, let us here forget, let us take the sheer
Unknown that lies before us, bearing the ark
Of the covenant onwards where she cannot go.
Let us rise and leave her now, she will never know.

By David Herbert Lawrence

***

Brother Jim

My brother Jim’s a millionaire,
while I have scarce a penny;
His face is creased with lines of care,
While my mug hasn’t any.
With inwardness his eyes are dim,
While mine laugh out in glee,
And though I ought to envy him,
I think he envies me.

He has a chateau, I a shack,

And humble I should be
To see his stately Cadillac
Beside my jalopy.
With chain of gold his belly’s girt,
His beard is barber trim;
Yet bristle-chinned with ragged shirt,
I do not envy Jim.

My brother is a man of weight;
For every civic plum

He grabs within one pie of state,
While I am just a bum.
Last Winter he was near to croak
With gastric ulcers grim. . . .
And no! although I’m stony broke
I will not envy Jim

He gets the work, I get the fun;
He has no tie for play;
Whereas with paddle, rod and gun
My life’s a holiday.
As over crabbed script he pores
I can the sky’s blue rim. . . .
Oh boy! While I have God’s outdoors
I’ll never envy Jim.

By Robert William Service

***

Brother Trouble

Of all the burdens I must bear,
My brother’s number one.
Our parents really messed up there.
They’ve raised an awful son.
He’s lazy, stubborn, rough and mean
And thinks he’s boss of me.
The biggest grouch you’ve ever seen
And greedy as can be.

His constant teasing makes me sore.
He does it just for spite.
He cheats and brags and, furthermore,
He tickles when we fight.
Unless he stops, I swear someday
I’ll punch his ugly face.
And if they’d let me have my way,
I’d shoot him into space.

But other times, he’s not so bad.
He’s taught me lots of games.
He gave me toys and books he had
And calls me funny names.
He helps me when my homework’s hard
And finds me when I hide.
He built the treehouse in our yard
And lets me play inside.

He laughs at every joke I tell
And gives me good advice.
He knows when I’m not feeling well
And treats me extra nice.

So, all in all, I’d have to say
It’s better in the end
To let the no-good nuisance stay.
My brother is my friend.

By Richard Thomas

***

Brother, Oh Brother

Brother, oh brother, where would I be without you
Over the years, you have helped me in all I do.
You have been an encourager and a big fan.
In my opinion, you’re the best in the clan!

You are always willing to lend a hand.
And you always had time to listen and understand
Brothers like you are far and few.
What would I ever do without you?

We have shared many tears.
Over the past years
But also we have had more.
Fun times galore!

Siblings we are, but now best friends
I will always be here for you to the end.
I just want to say thank you, my brother,
There truly is no other!

By Catherine Pulsifer

***

Brotherly Love

We are brothers by blood
And my love does flood
The thoughts of yesterday
Two children fast at play

That was the past
And the memories will last
Because in our dreams time stands still
There we can view thoughts of yesterday and, tomorrow at will

Tomorrow will come and I’ll be there
With unmeasurable amount of love to share
For now we have our dreams and thoughts
Our should’ve and oughts

Our fathers and mothers
But… we are brothers
We are brothers by blood
And my love does flood

By Andrew M. Woods

***

Brothers

From the depths of my heart, come the words of a brother,
where our souls and our minds, are like that of no other.
The spirit of competition, will always be there,
in the look of our eyes, and the glance of our stare.
Protecting each other, is always a must,
good times or bad times, never losing that trust.
Like a vision of Indians, riding across desert sand,
or the heart of a Raider, when he conquers new land.
We never lacked courage, or showed too much pride,
with no thoughts of guilt, or feelings put to the side.
It’s important to strive forward, and not live through regret,
but to savor the memories, and to never forget.
To be such close companions, always made me so proud,
never scared to express feelings, our emotions speak loud.
Whether it’s heaven or on earth, our souls are always together,
we share that sacred bond, knowing that brothers last forever.

By  Steve Mason

***

Brothers

Brothers,
The ones you go to for help,
For comfort,
For advice,
When you just had a fight with Mom and Dad,
Another girl,
Or your boyfriend.

Brothers,
The ones you go to, to tell them that
You’re pregnant,
Getting married,
Or just need a shoulder to cry on.
The ones you look up to,
Share jokes,
And talk to about everything.

Brothers,
They’re there for the good times,
Bad,
And everything in between.

My brother,
He helps me with everything.
Now all he needs,
Is me.

By Jessica M. Beuerlein

***

 Dear Brother

I have searched for many years,
Lived through tunnels of tears,
Reminiscing in what could have been,
The hero I always saw within.

From time to time, the thought came back,
Wasn’t I your sister? Wasn’t I your blood?

We each parted our own way,
Our parents didn’t help, needless to say.

A couple of months ago, my search finally came to an end,
My long lost brother is now my good friend.

What you mean to me I cannot express,
You’re more than someone I call when I am in distress.

Today, as you walked me down the aisle,
Giving me away,
I had the biggest smile,
That on one could sway.

This is a fresh start, a new road,
Let’s both sit back and watch it unfold.

By Shirley Rodriguez

***

God’s Garden

God looked around his garden and found an empty place.
He then looked down upon the Earth and saw your tired face.
He put his arms around you and lifted you to rest.
With the help of his angels, they flew you to your heavenly place.

God’s garden must be beautiful; he always takes the best.
He knew you were suffering; he knew you were in pain.
He knew that you would never get well on Earth again.

He saw the road was getting rough and the hills too hard to climb.
He closed your weary eyelids And whispered, “Peace Be Thine.”
It broke our hearts to lose you, but you didn’t go alone.
For part of us went with you the day God called you home.

By Melissa Shreve

***

Growing Up

Growing up, I was always to blame
You just sat and smiled all the same.

No matter what I did
You always blamed “the kid.”

And in the middle of the night.
You would sneak around and give me a fright.
And there were times when I would hide.
And you would look for me high and wide.

And you always loved the snow.
You made snowmen just for show.
You always did well on the tests.
You were smarter than the rest.

And as a teenager, you thought you were cool.
The girls would look at you and drool.
I would roll my eyes and sigh.
If they only knew, they would cry.

Oh, the memories of so long ago
Yes, when we were kids, we didn’t know.
What great friends we would be
As we got older and more crazy!

So you, my dear brother, I have a bond.
Of you, I have grown so fond.
You’re the best brother a girl could have
Even if you almost drove me mad!

By Catherine Pulsifer

***

He May See Me In His Daughter

It seems it’s been a lifetime
Since my brother went away.
I long to see him once again
And relive those cherished days.

When I was his big sister
And looked at him with pride
And thought we’d always walk through life,
Family side by side.

But in these years he has forgotten me
And left me far behind,
But still a day does not go by
That he doesn’t come to mind.

He has a growing daughter now
Whom I know I’ll never meet.
She wouldn’t even know me
If we passed along the street.

But I have a rather silly hope
That maybe just sometimes
There will be something that he sees in her
That may bring me to his mind.

He may see me in her smile
Or in the twinkle of her eye.
He may hear me in the sadness
Of her broken-hearted cries.

He may find me in her laughter,
In those moments filled with joy.
Or perhaps he’ll notice I am there
In the lilting of her voice.

He might see me in her anger
And refusal to give in.
And in how she fights for those she loves,
The way I did for him.

She may even have a walk like me,
That same, familiar stride.
I may be in subtle nuances,
So impossible to hide.

I pray he sees me in her heart
And in the way she wants to care.
We may even look at life the same
And have dreams and hopes we share.

Although she’ll never know me,
And I feel that loss each day,
She still carries just a part of me
That no one can take away.

So perhaps in silent moments,
In just an instant he may see,
There within his daughter,
A fleeting glimpse of me.

By Patricia A. Fleming

***

I Love My Annoying Brother

He doesn’t really have to do a single thing wrong,
For me to become a volcano and explode,
It’s just that he is like a huge pile of needles,
That is continually adding to my load,
It doesn’t take a lot from him,
To make me suddenly snap,
His mere presence alone is all it takes,
To break the camels back,
The thing about it all is that I know,
I know the whole thing is due to me,
What he does doesn’t have be bothersome,
Yet every time I still let it be,
He behaves like a rabbit caught in the lights,
When I start to raise my voice,
My brother doesn’t like to be shouted at,
But it’s not like I have a choice,
I’m out of control when I’m angered by him,
I react like a time-ticking bomb,
He has a knack for annoying me,
Even when he isn’t doing something wrong,
I’m older than him so I should be mature,
Since he’s only a sixteen year old boy,
And I should be reasonable and not get angry,
But he sure knows how to annoy,
He tells me he really can’t help it,
It’s a semi-deliberate thing,
And I know I should loosen up,
But my brother’s so damn annoying,
He does the things he knows bug me most,
He’s a pest who buzzes in my ear,
His behaviour seems to drive me to the edge,
Or at least worryingly near,
I love him, I do, rather deep down,
And sometimes my brother is great,
I should get off his back and stop being mean,
But he seems to like to irritate,
It doesn’t really matter because soon I’ll be gone,
Out of the home and flying from the nest,
It’s not like he’s the only annoying brother in the world,
I know I’m one of ‘the rest’,
The best thing to do is to keep my cool,
And not let him get my hot under the collar,
Since even though he really annoys me,
I really do love my brother.

By Rosanna Woollett

***

I Miss

I miss you,
I miss the loud music coming
from your room,
I miss the warmth of knowing
You’re just a call away,
I miss the way we fought and
played,
I miss seeing your big bright
smile,
I miss getting kicked out of
your room,
I miss seeing you here and
there,
I miss cooking you breakfast
lunch and dinner,
I miss hearing you come in
at night,
I miss making you wear your
seat belt,
I miss holding your hand to
pray,
I miss your smell,
I miss you with all my might,
I miss the way we would fight,
I miss my brother,
I miss my friend,
I miss you I love you and that’s
THE END!

By  Salena A. Hayes

***

I Miss You, My Little Bro

I love you and I wish you were home.
It hurts me to think you’re so alone.
It’s not the same without you here.
Why you did what you did is still unclear.
I remember when we were little and we played in the yard.
Then we’d go sit inside and play cards.
You’d look at me and smile.
Your smile used to stretch a mile.
When I had a bad day, you were the only one who could make me laugh.
It’s like you were my other half.
It hurts me to see what you’re going through.
It hurts even more because there’s nothing I can do.
I just wish I could make it all ok,
But all I can do is pray.
I pray for you every night before I go to sleep
And every time I think I hear you creep.
Sometimes it’s like you’re still here.
I look at the door and wait for you to appear.
Then I realize you’re not home,
And I go back to feeling so alone.
I love you so much; you just don’t know,
No matter what, you’ll always be my little bro.

byI love you and I wish you were home.
It hurts me to think you’re so alone.
It’s not the same without you here.
Why you did what you did is still unclear.
I remember when we were little and we played in the yard.
Then we’d go sit inside and play cards.
You’d look at me and smile.
Your smile used to stretch a mile.
When I had a bad day, you were the only one who could make me laugh.
It’s like you were my other half.
It hurts me to see what you’re going through.
It hurts even more because there’s nothing I can do.
I just wish I could make it all ok,
But all I can do is pray.
I pray for you every night before I go to sleep
And every time I think I hear you creep.
Sometimes it’s like you’re still here.
I look at the door and wait for you to appear.
Then I realize you’re not home,
And I go back to feeling so alone.
I love you so much; you just don’t know,
No matter what, you’ll always be my little bro.

by Misty D. Crawford

***

I Remember

I remember a time in youth
Brothers, best friends, together always.
Fishing, and baseball, – oh those were the days.

I remember, together as teens
The fighting and arguing and all in between
The laughing and joking till tears filled our eyes.

I remember those times each day I wake
Not understanding God’s choice in who to take
A brother, a father a good man to all.

I remember our last time together
Sitting and talking well into the night
Together, your sickness we vowed to fight.

I remember you asking, ‘ Jer are you sure’
Looking at you, our eyes filled with tears
‘ Jack you’re my brother, – my blood is yours ‘.

I remember them saying the transplant went well
Kissing you goodbye I went on my way
I am fine you said,  no need to stay.

I remember that night in June
The phone call we’ve all come to fear
Still remember those words after all these years.

I remember those words, will all my life
Your wife’s voice shaking ‘ the transplant failed’
Three little words through my heart like a knife.

I remember you brother always so strong
I pray every day, I hope you forgive me
I thought I could help you, I guess I was wrong.


I remember a time in youth
Brothers, best friends, together always.
Fishing, and baseball, oh those were the days.

By Jerry Krause Sr.

***

In My Mind

Somewhere in my dreams tonight
I’ll see you standing there.
You look at me with a smile.
“Life isn’t always fair.”

You say you were chosen for his garden.
His preciously hand-picked bouquet
“God really needed me,
That’s why I couldn’t stay.”

It’s said to be that angels.
Are sent from above
I’ve always had my angel.
My brother – whose heart was filled with love

Wherever the ocean meets the sky
There will be memories of you, and I
When I look up at the sky so blue
All I see are visions of you.
“While there’s a heart in me, you’ll be a part of me.”

By Jenn Farrell

***

Little Brother

Wars have been and wars will be
Till the human race is run;
Battles red by land and sea,
Never peace beneath the sun.
I am old and little care;
I’ll be cold, my lips be dumb:
Brother mine, beware, beware . . .
Evil looms the wrath to come.

Eastern skies are dark with strife,
Western lands are stark with fear;
Rumours of world-war are rife,
Armageddon draweth near.
If your carcase you would save,
Hear, oh hear, the dreadful drum!
Fly to forest, cower in cave . . .
Brother, heed the wrath to come!

Brother, you were born too late;
Human life is but a breath.
Men delve deep, where darkly wait
Sinister the seeds of death,
There’s no moment to delay;
Sorrowing the stars are blind.
Little Brother, how I pray
You may sanctuary find.
Peoples of the world succumb . . .
Fly, poor fools, the WRATH TO COME!

By Robert William Service

***

My Big Brother Off to The Army

ou’ve always been here for me,
But now you are about to leave.
I know we fuss and fight,
But I love you with all my might.

You are my big brother,
And there is no other.
No one can take your place,
And when you leave, there will be this big empty space.

We’ve never been really close,
But at least you have not always lived across the coast.
Because some big brothers do,
I’m really grateful for the 15 years I’ve lived with you.

I remember when I was small,
And I would always fall.
You were always there for me,
And I know you always will be.

You told me not to cry,
That it would be ok.
Even if I thought you lied,
It was like my big brother saved the day.

You’ve made me laugh, you’ve made me cry,
You’ve even helped me hide some lies.
I love you is something I don’t tell you enough,
But I want you to know
When you leave it will be really tough.

I don’t know how my life will be,
Without you here beside me.
You’ve lived with me for 15 years,
But now we’re shedding our good-bye tears.

I know you have to move out,
And start a life of your own.
But promise me without a doubt,
You will never forget us back home.

Dedicated to my big brother Danny Brewer Jr. recently sent off for basic training for the army.

By Terri L. Brewer

***

My Brother

My Brother
My brother is strong when I am weak
Courageous when I am scared
Funny when I am sad
My Brother

My Brother
He is there when I need him
He is there when I don’t
He is the one that needs no introduction
My Brother

My Brother
He is the one that is Priceless
The one that is Sincere
My brother is the coolest
My Brother

If I ever needed him, you know whom I am going to call
My Brother

By Benjamin L. Wiley

***

My Brother At Sea

I know we are miles apart
I just want you to know you will always be in my heart
I always think of you
And I know you think of me
I will always remember you
when you go off to sea
We will always have each other
I am so glad you are my big brother
Your so sweet
And so caring
And when I need something
You are very sharing
Of all the big brothers in the world
I got the best
I look up to you in so many ways
I hope we are best friends
For all of our days

By Kelly I. Helms

***

My Brothers

While I make rhymes my brother John
Makes shiny shoes which dames try on,
And finding to their fit and stance
They buy and wear with elegance;
But mine is quite another tale,–
For song there is no sale.

My brother Tom a tailor shop
Is owner of, and ladies stop
To try the models he has planned,
And richly pay, I understand:
Yet not even a dingy dime
Can I make with my rhyme.

My brother Jim sells stuff to eat
Like trotters, tripe and sausage meat.
I dare not by his window stop,
Lest he should offer me a chop;
For though a starving bard I be,
To hell, say I, with charity!

My brothers all are proud of purse,
But though my poverty I curse,
I would not for a diadem
Exchange my lowly lot with them:
A garret and a crust for me,
And reams and dreams of Poetry

By Robert William Service

***

Proud To Call You A True Brother

Every morning as I wake up, I think of you,
as the hero that came into my life.
More and more, you appeared to me when I was in strife.
Afraid I could not live without you in my life.
I only prayed every day and every night.
To have a brother like you by my side.
When I was hurt so many times.
You never let me down.
Therefore I am proud.
To call you a true brother.
Even though I know you’re not a child of my mother.
To me, you’ll always be.
I remembered you see.
As Mecca, the person who saved my life.
Forever the memory will seem right.

By Slim Deuce

***

Tears

I saw my brother cry today.
He seemed five years old
It did not seem to me that he was six feet tall.
He lost a thing he treasured,
I saw it in his eyes.
To see my brother hurt,
It made me want to cry.
Love is not measured in how tall you are,
Or how far around your arms go.
When you hug someone that you love so.
But how much it hurts to let something you love go.
I want my brother to know that he
Is loved by all, especially me.
I saw my brother cry today.

By Margaret A. Collins

***

Thank You Brother

Thank you
You were their when I was sad
You were their when I was mad, thank you.

You touched my heart and told me not to cry,
That’s one reason our love cannot die

You respected my decision
I respected you’re compassion

Tell me brother why where you so good to me?
I screamed at you about 300 times
You were trying to help me, help me not to die

Now I know you did it for my best
You are no longer here, you are finally put to rest

You can’t leave me now that I need you the most
Brother where are you, my heart is about to burst.

By  Prisma Y. Hernandez

***

Thanks Brother

I was alone all this while
in search of a real friend..
You came with a smile
and took me by my hand.

You made me walk on the path of stones
just to let me know there are flowers ahead..
You made me learn how to smile
after all my tears had shed.

You took me through the cloudy sky
just to show me the sunny part of it..
You made me realize that happy days are here
and together in the garden of happiness we sit.

You took me to the closed door
and told me where is its opening..
You gave me its key
and told that its just the beginning.

The doors of happiness and trust were open
and it lead me through a flowery road..
without you where could I be
in troubled waters was my boat.

THANKS to you DEAR BROTHER
for always being there in my grays..
for bringing out my real self
and for promising to be my shade.

THANKS DEAR BROTHER for the love you gave
its been six years of all this care..
I pray that this doesn’t over
FOR, A BROTHER LIKE YOU IS RARE!

By Pooja Chhajer

***

The Star & The Sky

I guess we made it through struggle and strife.
I remember when we first started our life.

We climbed every step one in back of the other,
And if you would fall I would catch you, brother.

I was the sister, you were the brother.
If we didn’t have much, we had each other.

We never seemed to wander from each other too far,
‘Cause how could the Sky drift away from the Star?

Now you are a father and I am a mother,
But I’m still your sister and you’re still my brother!

By Patricia L. Cisco

***

To My Brother

To my Brother:

Words are hard to describe feelings,
I have always been better with images.
Yet writing down how much I miss you,
Seems to give me more tranquility.

Writing to let go, to give this all a place.
It will never heal, it will never go away,
But just learning to give it time and space.

I can tell you how much I care, how much I would give to have you back in my life,
But you know all of this and it won’t change anything, that’s what I am learning within time,

Writing to tell you how much I have learned, to show you that through fragility I become a stronger person
More able to understand, more able to listen and to care,
Hurt through loss, I’ve become yet a wiser person

By Anne Harskamp

***

To My Brother George

Many the wonders I this day have seen:
The sun, when first he kissed away the tears
That filled the eyes of Morn;—the laurelled peers
Who from the feathery gold of evening lean;—
The ocean with its vastness, its blue green,
Its ships, its rocks, its caves, its hopes, its fears,
Its voice mysterious, which whoso hears
Must think on what will be, and what has been.
E’en now, dear George, while this for you I write,
Cynthia is from her silken curtains peeping

So scantly, that it seems her bridal night,
And she her half-discovered revels keeping.
But what, without the social thought of thee,
Would be the wonders of the sky and sea?

By John Keats

***

To My Brother With Love

We’ve grown slowly apart,
But you’ve always been in my heart.
From a distance I watched you grow,
Wondering about the man I’d get to know.
Who you could become,
Who that could be I fathom.
Good choices you’ve made all together,
I’m so glad you didn’t pay attention lil’ brother.
So many things going on around you,
I’m so thankful it didn’t drag you in too.
When put to the test,
You were meant to out shine the rest.
You have an important role here on earth,
It was given to you before your day of birth.
Walk with your head held high,
Don’t worry everyone will learn why.
You have the gift, please use it wise.
Not like a birthday gift, not a surprise.
It’s in your heart, soul, and your mind.
Some people find it, some get left behind.
You have found it, I’m so proud.
Hold on to it, losing it is not aloud.
I know you’ll be fine, this I don’t worry.
Even though you have it, don’t grow up in a hurry.
You’re going to be somebody, this I already know.
But there’s a lot to learn, what you have will help you grow.
Keep your eyes open don’t let anything pass you by.
Your great and growing greater, all you have to do is try.
I love you Jeremy from day one.
I hope I can pass your gift to my son.
He could be just like you, I wouldn’t mind.
A man like you is of a greater kind.
Off into the world you go,
You’ll be great, this everyone knows!

By Tamarah M. Olsen

***

Understanding My Brother

He’s my brother,
My older brother.

His eyes are glued to the laptop screen,
A slight smile is tugging at his lips.
The room is vibrating with his music.
His fingers tap out the beat on the keys.

He’s my brother,
My older brother.

It’s the early hours of the morning,
I can hear him crying in his bedroom.
At breakfast he seems cheerful,
But his blue eyes sparkle with tears.

He’s my brother,
My older brother.

He never spends his time at home.
Instead, prefers to go for long walks.
He comes home singing softly,
And sits straight down at his laptop.

He’s my brother,
My older brother.

By Lenae Harris

***

You’re My Big Brother

You’re my Big Brother
And I love you with all my heart.
When I was young, we were very close
Now, I regret us growing apart.

You were always my HERO
When I was a little girl.
There was no one like my Charles Ray.
Not in this world.

Then you got married,
And everything seem to change.
I understood things would be different,
But not completely rearranged.

As time went by,
Our closeness seemed to disappear,
But not my love and admiration.
And if you really look, that is clear.

I know I’ve disappointed you
And I know I’ve let you down.
But Charles, I’m trying to rebuild
And get our relationship back on solid ground.

By Debbie S. Lott

The ability to forgive defines, strong people. The idea of forgiveness sooner or later comes into the life of every adult. It is a voluntary refusal to judge someone, to punish, and to restore justice on your own and at your level of development.

Each person is able to comprehend his wrong attitude toward others or feels embarrassed for what they have committed to his beloved ones. How to apologize, how to ask for forgiveness, if thoughts seem to have left the head, and the heart treacherously beats and makes you blush? Beautiful lines will undoubtedly help you.

«A Plea For Forgiveness» by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

Forgive us if we claim to be
Activists for peace and justice
And yet we remain silent
to your cries and plea for help.

Forgive us if we close
our borders because of fear
And miss the chance to help
You in time of your great need.

Forgive us if we uphold
Human rights of all peoples
On earth and yet segregate
Those who are worthy of
Our attention and hospitality.

Forgive us if in our inability
To help and rescue you
We only seek to protect
first our own self-interests.

***

«Anger And Forgiveness» by Ray Andrews

When I am full of anger
I think in anger’s terms
Part of my existing life
Is full of anger’s germs

Nothing seems a perfect right
Most of things gone wrong
I get such vengeful feelings
When I carry anger along

When I think of forgiveness
I think in forgiveness’ terms
My life is held in gentle hands
Softly in those twists and turns

Very few are perfect wrongs
So many things are right
Show me God forgiveness’ face
So I can live in light

***

«Culture Of Forgiveness» by Lawrence S. Pertillar

A culture of forgiveness,
Has begun to emerge.
As a surge of outrageous madness,
Nibbling on a serving of hatred…
Permitted to exist but no one deserves.

Not too many are finding to discover,
Their judgements to pass…
On and/or between each other,
Retrieves to leave them beneficial results.

To realize what is sent returns to themselves.

A doing away of charades to masquerade.
And roles to portray to display,
Betrayal of a truth kept submerged is now seen.
To make it easier for those to remove their masks.
With a wish to no longer pick anyone to demean.

A culture of forgiveness,
Has begun to emerge.

As many are more willing,
To show they can be bold and brave.
And undaunted by others with less nerve.

People have grown tired,
Of being deceived into conflicts.
And perceiving their neighbors to them are threats.
People are tired of having these accusations thrive.
People are seeking peace with more of it in their lives.

‘I pray for peace to come my way.’

~Keep praying and live it.
Show it to display and don’t from it stray.
Put your prayers into action.
That’s the only way the peace you seek,
Will come to you and others to stay.

***

«Declining Forgiveness» by Lawrence S. Pertillar

We must help those whose lives,
Are stuck in an unchanged past.
It is difficult for them to accept,
The times now out of their grasp.

With embellished insecurities…
Of memories flourished now gone.
Their mentalities are witnessed to be diminishing quick.
And within themselves,
They can not admit…

These times lived today,
Will not continue to permit…
An attention given,
To such stubbornly held sickness…
They have become riddled and sit with!

We must help those whose lives,
Are stuck in an unchanged past.
It is difficult for them to accept,
The times now out of their grasp.

The challenges ahead requires a collective focus,
That has to exist!
To be drained emotionally by someone misfit…
Detaches an empathy!
With a declining forgiveness,
Decaying with it!
And a healing affect,
Will for all go neglected

***

«Despaired Forgiveness» by Nashy Lamen

Enraged eyes of fire and doom,
To no extent I’ve made a sin,
To no forgiveness I broke their trust,
And I know I must regain… I must.

I have deceived and I am cursed,
I’ve tried no tries; I’ve made it worse,
My guilt has drowned me in my lies,
And now my damaged conscience cries.

So here I sit in silence, blind,
There’s no solution I can find,
I am trapped in broken glass,
As time and chances pass by fast.

I’m so sorry, so nonsense I know,
Useless, I see,
Cause I’ve done much wrong,
So tragically.

I don’t know what to do anymore,
Without you, I’m wept of my shore,
Without you guys, I’m an empty hole,
Endless, sorrows and regrets to roll.

I’ve said things that I did not intend,
Can you still try to comprehend?
Or there’s no use in my beseech,
There’s none to beg, there’s none to teach.

I’ve done my wrong, my pang of guilt,
I’ve sunken down, ensconced in filth,
To no forgiveness I broke their trust,
And I know I must regain… I must.

And now I must regain, I must.

***

«Dont Ask My Forgiveness» by Amy Louise Kerswell

Dont ask for my forgiveness.
Dont say youll wait for it.
Becuase I shall tell you.
This only once.
Youll get my forgiveness
When hell freezes over.
Youll be waiting a long time.
You dont get my forgiveness.
Oh no you dont.
Dont kid yourself.

Are you all there in the head?
Forgiveness I cant give.
I dont offer it to you.
Why should I make you feel better?
To hell with that.
If your feeling guilty
Thats you problem not mine.
You dont deserve forgiveness.
Ask me again
And I’ll be waiting with a knife.

For my protection.
Forgive you
Yeah right
Dont make me laugh.
I depise you all.
Forgive you no.
Shove it up your arse.
You thick twatt.

***

«For Forgiveness They Have A Flair» by Bri Mar

This life is tough,
I’ve had enough,
I am caught up in life’s sticky web,
It’s time to do some different stuff,
I’ve given up being a pleb.

Within my heart,
I’m drifting apart,
From those days of hardship and pain,
As of now I’ll make a new start,

From compassion I will now abstain.

To really earn,
I’ll have to learn,
To look after number one,
For others I’ll no longer show concern,
I’ll ensure my new life is fun.

To family and friends,
I will not make amends,

They’re no longer part of my life,
As into paradise my life ascends,
I’ll no longer suffer their strife.

I’ll be selfish and cruel,
I won’t suffer the fool,
From now on I’ll look after myself,
They may well say I’ve become a ghoul,
But it’s they who’ll gather dust on the shelf.

Now I’ve reached the top,
It’s a long way to drop,
But disaster’s but a second away,
All it takes is being caught on the hop,
Then your riches no longer hold sway.

I now live in fear,
As these cretins up here,
Are ready and willing to attack,
Out of the shadows they suddenly appear,
Waiting to stab me in the back.

I feel a frown,
I’m knee deep in brown,
From so called friends I’ve now been deserted,
It’s really tough this road back down,
From reality I’ve been diverted.

Whether rich or poor,
Of one thing be sure,
Those who love you will always be there,
Their devotion to you, you must never obscure,

‘’ For Forgiveness They Have A Flair ‘’

***

«Forgive For That Is What God Would Do» by Anna Mcmath

Your wicked tongue,
It speeks much evil.

Your pallid face,
You give no hope,
No strength,
Your weakness collides.

You’re nothing but a liar,
A dirty-mouth,
And a show-off.

You give no support,
But pride.
Your mercy goes to you only,
Which shows your hate.

Hate is what you get back,
After the back-stabs,
And the tortures you gave.

Now no one cares of your fate,
Your trifling,
Even if you die,
You are now spoken by bane words.

But yet I forgive your lies,
And your back-stabs that hurt.

I forgive your derisiveness,
Your barbarous,
And yet your treachery…
I forgive you.

For that is what God would do.

***

«Forgiveness» by John Greenleaf Whittier

My heart was heavy, for its trust had been
Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong;
So, turning gloomily from my fellow-men,
One summer Sabbath day I strolled among
The green mounds of the village burial-place;
Where, pondering how all human love and hate
Find one sad level; and how, soon or late,
Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened face,
And cold hands folded over a still heart,
Pass the green threshold of our common grave,

Whither all footsteps tend, whence none depart,
Awed for myself, and pitying my race,
Our common sorrow, like a mighty wave,
Swept all my pride away, and trembling I forgave!

***

«Forgiveness» by Alfred Austin

Now bury with the dead years conflicts dead
And with fresh days let all begin anew.
Why longer amid shrivelled leaf-drifts tread,
When buds are swelling, flower-sheaths peeping through?
Seen through the vista of the vanished years,
How trivial seem the struggle and the crown,
How vain past feuds, when reconciling tears
Course down the channel worn by vanished frown.
How few mean half the bitterness they speak!
Words more than feelings keep us still apart,

And, in the heat of passion or of pique,
The tongue is far more cruel than the heart.
Since love alone makes it worth while to live,
Let all be now forgiven, and forgive.

***

«Forgiveness» by David Keig

Not to forgive is emptiness
For cold and lonely souls
Who understand forgiveness
As somewhere they can’t go
They fear a loss of strength it seems
And trap others in their web
Of blame and guilt and right and wrong
And leave the truth unsaid
For truth is not their province
Nor humanity their cause

They ask others to obey them
And think they own the laws
They seek virtue in adversity
They cannot once forgive
For they have never done a wrong
In the perfect lives they live.

***

«Forgiveness» by Dr. Antony Theodore

If knowledge was our greatest need
God would have sent to us
a universal genius.

If technique was our greatest need
God would have sent us a scientist.

If money was our greatest need
God would have given us an economic expert.

If conversation was our greatest need
God would have sent to us
a conversation expert and a psychologist.

But since our greatest need
is the ability to FORGIVE,
Holy Scripture was sent to us,
inspired by God the Almighty
which teaches forgiveness.

If we listen to the message of Forgiveness
in all Religions
we shall be great human beings.

Peace will remain in our hearts
as apermanent guest sent from
The Almighty and The Merciful.

***

«Forgiveness» by Allyson Gordon

Forgiveness is the key
Forgiveness alone,
Can set you free
From all you’ve done

Forgive yourself
For all your wrongs
Unleash the spirit
That’s been hiding for so long

Forgive others
Life’s too short to worry
Keep close your lovers
But take it slow, don’t hurry!

Forgiveness is the key
Forgiveness alone,
Can set you free
From all you’ve done

***

«Forgiveness» by Genya Ehrlich

Forgiveness is the melted snow,
which, melted, simply goes
away with shattered ice.
Forgiveness is the never yet
forgotten home, the low wall,
the squeaking stairs, the dome
with sparrows high above.
Forgiveness is the pain of birthing child,
the sleepless nights, the silver tears.
Suppressed forgetfulness which

stays forever in the slow-beating heart –
– is not forgiveness. It starts
exactly at the end of life,
when you forgiveness want.
You see the ever-growing tree,
some branches dry and broken?
It brings so much forgetfulness to thee,
it’s not forgiveness. Do not fret
for only God forgives, and you forget.

***

«Forgiveness» by Francis Duggan

There is an old saying called live and let live
And though it may be hard to forget one should try to forgive
Since the gift of forgiveness is a great gift indeed
For the antidote to the healing of the mind it does plant the seed

Those who cannot forgive cannot know of happiness
They live till they die with anger and bitterness
It is when you forgive that in life you can move on
For bitterness can lead to serious crime and what has been has gone

Some people will take their anger and bitterness with them to the grave
The gift of forgiveness only does belong to the brave
Some who cannot forgive do turn to payback crime
And spend most of the best years of their lives serving prison time

Forgiveness of anger and bitterness will set you free
This does apply to everyone as well as to you and me
The person who harbors a grudge is his or her own greatest foe
And that the act of forgiveness removes anger and bitterness from the mind happens to be so.

***

«Forgiveness» by Barry Van Allen

I know it’s not the first time,
I doubt that it’s the last,
I admit that I messed-up again,
… but, the drastic over-reaction,
is more than I will deal with.

At least I tried to face it,
I never claimed that,
‘ It just Happened ‘,
as so many others have.

My genuine contrition,
does not seem to mean a thing,
and with my olive branch extended,
… I saw my arm cut off,
… right down to the bone,
by a semi – rightious brother,
who was feeling new found oats.

I am sure it’s not my first time,

and I would doubt that it’s my last,
… but, I’m not going to make a tour of this,
to atone for one mistake this time.

If you think your new found attitude,
is what my life is going to do,
well, you had better think it over now,
… because forgiveness is not new,
… if you remember, me and you.

Yes, it’s my fault,
… and I admit that,
and have forgiven many times,
stupidity and drunkeness,
that wasn’t even mine…
because it all belonged to you.

Sanctimony should be kept,
among the memories of the long forgotten,
… that have been gone for far too long,
and weaved inside your memories cotton.

If you are allowed to pass the judgement,
perhaps, forgiveness is allowed,
… now and then when humans prove humanity,
It would be nice if that extends beyond yourself.

I DO admit I did it,
but, now I see the glitch…
what is good, is right for only you,
… I ‘ve learned another lesson here,
… Forgiveness doesn’t tell me which,
– – – SO, I choose both!

***

«Forgiveness» by Robert Rorabeck

Guardians of gypsum satellites
Fight against the destroyer of hopes
The strange watchers in the night
Like banks of candles lit up
For Catholic mass

Each one holds a secret priest
Burning for your confession,
As she grips you about the waist,
A savior from the murdered sea,

Begging your forgiveness….

***

«Forgiveness» by Michael P. Johnson

To show forgiveness! Jesus came
Christ died that mercy, live
Yet still we perish in our shame
Because we don’t forgive

A grudge, can only lead to hate
Such hate is Satan’s tool
Don’t nurse a grudge to share his fate
Don’t be the tempter’s fool

That’s what the devil loves to do
Feed hatred deep within
If he can do the same to you
Then sickness; can begin

The vicious circle’s then complete
Death’s race, has now begun
Now only love can bring defeat
By grace of Christ God’s Son

Forgiveness; comes from God on high
When Jesus comes to live
Then all our hate will start to die
As soon as we forgive

For hate is weak! Where love is strong
As Jesus taught the few
“Forgive each one who does you wrong
As God does unto you”

Forgiveness! Is the golden rule
Where love is God’s command
Obedience; life’s eternal pool
God’s healing to the land

To show our love we must forgive
No matter what the cost
Then with the Lord we too can live
And nought but pride is lost…

***

«Forgiveness & Salvation» by Tom Zart

Do you still struggle with fear and un-forgiveness
Of any who have wronged or hurt you?
True forgiveness is more than just a feeling
It’s an action we must preach, live and pursue.

The main reason we suffer from our failure to forgive
Is a simple matter called human self-pride.
Christ forgave those who nailed Him to the cross
Where He was beaten, crucified, and died.

When you have been hurt plead for deliverance
To guide you in all you think, do and say.
Forgive your offenders and forgive yourself
As to God All Mighty you confess and pray.

Scripture reminds us that all believers
Are called to love Christ as God’s creation.
Each of us was conceived to fulfill our purpose
To lead the lost from the darkness to salvation.

***

«Forgiveness Is Divine» by Patricia A. Fleming

Some people view forgiveness,
As a virtue for the weak.
An act of Mercy undeserved,
That serves no useful need.

They stand firmly in their judgment,
And won’t consider a mistake.
They prefer to hold a senseless grudge,
Than accept amends when made.

They feel they have some Godly right,
To reject and criticize.
They’re possessed by righteous anger,
And consumed by pointless pride.

They’re focused on how they’ve been wronged,
And won’t be made the fool again.
So they feel they must avenge themselves,
By refusing to give in.

They will sacrifice their family,
Or forsake a long, time friend.
Do anything they have to do,
To be the winner in the end.

Or perhaps it’s that they can’t resolve,
The depth of all their hurt.
Caused when someone that they’ve trusted,
Left them questioning their worth.

But no matter why the struggle,
Out of pride or out of fear.
Not being able to forgive,
Can cause the loss of ones most dear.

Yes, forgiveness is a virtue,
They even say it is divine.
But more than that it sets you free,
From what weighs you down inside.

The best way to approach this life,
Is to ask forgiveness and to forgive.
There’s a balance to this crazy world,
So live and just let live.

***

«Forgiveness Is Not The Key» by Lenore Lee

I look down at the people, I worry about their woes
I worry about their joys, their friends, their foes
I worry about their lives and the way they live it
I worry about their dreams and wonder if they’ll heed it
I worry about the tears I see running down their face
I worry about their lies they tell in this time and place
I worry about their truths that always hurt more
I worry about what they will definitely have in store

I look down at the people who never showed compassion

Who hate each other with the strongest passion
Who pushed me aside as though I were nothing
I wonder, do they care about anything?
I realise they treat each other as dirt
And they revel within all the hurt
Not one ever worried for me
I’m so glad that I can finally see

I refuse to worry or care about them and their petty ways
I will never again worry for their days

Because not one ever cared for me
Forgiveness is not the key
Not when I live life so lonely
I want to be loved only
For them I’ll never again feel woe
Because I’ll be nothing but their foe

***

«Forgiveness Is Not There» by Lawrence S. Pertillar

When cries of the young,
Can not be soothed or stopped.
And bombs continue to drop…
Outside of their innocent visions.
No cheek is turned,
As flesh of loved ones burn.
Nor fear can be explained away.
These images stay!
And a hatred grows.
Increasing a revenge held within them.

These scenes never diminish.
What begins does not finish.
They grow more intense!
And a wish for peace…
Will find an advancement of weapons,
To isolate and save humanity from countless graves…
A game played to the end.
With no one declared the winner.
Since a forgiveness is not there…

To be spared!

***

«Forgiveness, Trust & Love» by Tom Zart

God is searching for warriors judged by their faith
Who keep themselves ready for battle of any kind.
He ask them to do, in the name of Jesus,
Those things that help the lost love Christ in time.

The Lord created us for a very special purpose
Along with specific skills we are to share and perform.
When we live our lives for the happiness of others
We receive His favor in both times of peace and storm.

Since God is opposed to the wicked, hateful and proud
He calls on the honorable to achieve, preach and rise above.
When we keep living immorally it makes us less useful
Hiding His guidelines of forgiveness, trust and love.

***

«From The Law To Forgiveness» by Bob Gotti

When I fail The Great I AM, I seek forgiveness from The Lamb,
Asking my Savior Jesus Christ, Who was for me, my sacrifice,
I Am who lives for me today, is upon The Throne so I can pray,
When I fail in the way I live, in Christ, forgiveness God will give.

Seeing God’s Commands and Law, being a sinner, I could fall,
So when I fail, I seek His face, by God’s Mercy and His Grace,
When falling in unrighteousness, I go to Christ for forgiveness,
As we confess failures to Him, our Risen Lord forgives our sin.

Reflecting on the Law God gives, God speaks of relationships,
Not only with Him, but others too, all people about me and you,
Commandments, we must obey, as we live out our lives today,
As The Law in the Old Testament, in our lives today is relevant.

Of those commandments we read, all, not some we must heed;
Knowing we are sinful and frail, regarding Law, we all shall fail,
Even when we fail at just one, then God’s justice must be done,
So in light of God’s eternal Law, not some but everyone will fall.

But God’s Law is to lead us, to know God’s only Righteousness,
The Savior, Who forever lives, The Lamb of God, Who forgives,
Who came to be God’s sacrifice, to pay for us sin’s eternal price,
So, God forgives us through Christ, redeeming us for eternal life.

***

«Gain Forgiveness In Time» by Bernedita Rosinha Pinto

I cannot ask for the dead to rise
and for those alive to die;
I cannot ask sunflowers to face the moon
and the fruits of the season to ripen out of time;
I cannot ask for men to slog and for bees to sleep
I cannot ask for oceans to roar and lions to roll;
I cannot ask for storms to be calm
and nightingales to sing in the daylight;
I cannot ask for lovers to forsake their intimacy
and cinema to be real and true from its fantasy;

I cannot ask you to tempt me to misplace my prudence
and endow you with the privileges of unlawful vengeance.
I can ask you to die so that your soul
gains freedom from avarice,
I can pray for your unforgiving sins and silent crimes
which entwines your vicious thoughts and intentions;
Yet, I can implore God to grant you clemency
if you sincerely deserve it
or you can search for that road to divert yourself
from those embers that engulf the deceitful

and tempestuous when they depart…
And I can wait for you by that bridge
if your remorse will connect to your actions
and your resolution to your conscience;
but if your retribution is endless and unmatched
you can never meet me, I can never meet you
even if lions roar, oceans roll, seasons change
for out there, God will be the Judge and not me.

***

«I Don’T Deserve Forgiveness» by Champion Chris

Now that I have seen the light
That all that i’ve done, fought the wrong fight

I can’t believe that I was misguided
My own power, and kept me incited

I’m so sorry, if it even matters now
I doubt you’ll hear me, why would you, how?

I feel evil and demonic, dont look at me

You don’t have to forgive, one who cannot see

Blind no more, and now see true
That I HAD found a way, to actually hurt you

It wasn’t before, or during then
It was after, when my demon came in

Please forget me, i don’t deserve salvation
What i do deserve, is total damnation

Your hate isn’t hate, it’s tears of pain
That I had been lost, in the holocaust’s rain

You let me go, but didn’t intend
To watch me slip, into Hitler’s own men

My heritage had killed my kindness
Nazi blood, took away my divineness

Best in the world? Not anymore
My name is now blacker, than any whore

I am sorry, I’ve earned my slot
In hell’s black hole, ruled by the Harlot

Final testimony, my last request
If we’re still friends, not here will I rest

***

«I Wish I Didn’t Remember» by Shelby Vitgenos

It was a night I wish I didn’t remember
A couple months before December
I can’t believe it happened this way
And now we both have to pay
All I remember is when you said I was the biggest mistake of your life
And when I took that pill I stabbed myself with a knife
I know that we made a mistake
And I know now you a just a fake
I look at you now and all I want to do is cry
Because all you left me with were a couple simple lies
We were like best friends
But now that journey has come to an end
I miss when we used to talk
But now all I see is your back when you walk
I hate having a class with you
All the memories of the things we used to do
I regret it all
And now I look at you and you seem so small
I thought you were smart
But all I figured out is that you have no heart
Life goes on I guess
I have made this such a mess
Everything happens for a reason
You’re such a real good treason
You really hit two birds with one giant stone
I’ve never really felt so completely alone.

***

«Let Forgiveness Heal» by Michael P. Johnson

We’ll seek forgiveness love and grace
We’ll seek through Christ to live
Yet fail to see His wondrous face
Because we won’t forgive

Through selfish ways through foolish pride
Through shallowness of soul
Bitterness hinders love inside
To make our spirit whole

Resentment has no place above
Hatred’s ordained to die
Forgiveness though God’s fruit of love
Will pave The Way on high

Blessing our soul righting our wrong
Mending our broken heart
Forgiveness sings its healing song
Heralding life’s new start

For foolish walls to crumble down
Let wisdom now explain
Forgiveness needs to wear a crown
And love begin to reign

Be merciful to friend and foe
Forgive the evil done
Believe the seed today we sow
Will grow till victory’s won

Be wise to Heaven’s true advice
Heed all Christ had to say
In Matthew six He warns us twice
To walk forgiveness’ way

Forget the hurtful things you’ve heard
Let malice speak in vain
Believe in God, His faithful word
So love can heal the pain

***

«Love & Forgiveness» by Tom Zart

My love consumes me like the flame of a candle
In the window of my heart, soul and self-esteem.
When you’re annoyed with how I perform
I can’t sleep, be happy, succeed, or dream.

I’m lost, sad, fearful, distressed and alone
When shamed by my actions both present and past.
My passion for you means more than life itself
As I suffer remorse for my wrongs to the last.

I depend on prayer if you’re dissatisfied and upset
For God to lead me to recapture your rewarding smile.
Every day of our existence from birth to deliverance
Places our faith, love and forgiveness to the trial.

***

«My Heart’s Desire» by Leslie Absher

My mind racing in confusion,
so scared to speak a word.
My mouth starts to move,
but a word was unheard.
My heart racing so fast,
love comes to mind,
tears in my heart
that couldn’t begin to speak the pain,
but every time I see you,
I remember that sweet kiss you put upon my face.
A love that never begins to fade away
’cause my heart calls out your name,
repeating the pain I caused you every day,
but my desire is to love you – til death do us part,
but that same question still remains in my heart.
Even though you are gone, I can’t let you go.
I have so many things I want you to know.
I’m not trying to hide myself in tears,
but I only had a few years.
I’m sorry I didn’t show you my love,
but I’m not ready to travel or give up.
I need you by my side
so you again can be mine.
I want you to grow old along with me;
the best is yet to be,
so bless the memories within your heart.
Please don’t forget about them and tear them apart.
I’m sorry I hurt you; I know now I was wrong,
but remember, we all stumble.
Every one of us do wrong,
so will you give me your hand,
and help me through this too?
I know you’re still hurt, and I’m sorry for that too.
Maybe one day you’ll realize it’s true.
It’s coming,
coming from my heart to you.

***

«Please Don’t Leave My Love» by Jessica Langton

My words were not that of a kind person.
Hurtful words that should have never entered my mind
But they did, and they can be erased in time.

Just watch, you’ll see.
I’ll try harder; it’ll get better.
I promise I will be better.

I’ll smile every time I see you.
There has got to be something that I can do or say,
Something that will make you want to stay.

Don’t leave me alone, not like this.
I only just found you, my only one.
We can’t possibly be over and done.

Please, tell me I’m still in your heart.
Let me show you that I can appreciate you more
Every day, more than the day before.

PLEASE, I LOVE YOU!
And he turned with glazed eyes
“I love you, too.”

***

«Poet’s Plea For Forgiveness» by James Grengs

If I have hurt,
I am sorry.
If I have been wrong,
I am sorry.
If you could have written it better,
I am sorry.
If there might have been some other way
For me to express myself,
I am sorry.

For what am I sorry?
I am sorry
For offending the tender conscience.
I am sorry
For not being everything you thought I was.
I am sorry
That my poetry is not perfect.
I am sorry
That this poor medium is all I know
To use in self-expression.

For all these which you call wrongs,
I am sorry.
Please forgive me.

***

«Sorry» by Harry Boslem

Being sorry can be very hard when we’re overwhelmed with pride,
But sometimes our pride must take a fall before we lose out.
And when we have to say sorry, we should mean it from our soul.
A meaningless sorry is like a broken promise to the heart.

And it only hurts more in the end, bringing bitter resentment,
And leading to the loss of a love that should be eternal.
Bringing us back down to earth from the fairy tale world of our mind,
With a pain that is maddening, physical and sometimes critical.

My heart is weeping tears of blood for the pain that I’ve caused you,
And it’s crying out my apologies to your mind,
Pleading for your forgiveness for my unfortunate outbursts.
I never meant in a million years to be so unkind.

I have made mistakes in the past but never as serious as this,
And I know I will only have myself to blame if you leave,
And that scares me more than I’ve ever been scared in my life,
For you’re my true motivation, the only real thing in which I believe.

Everything else is just a fantasy to my egotistical ideals.
It’s always been me, me, me for far too long,
And lately I haven’t given even a passing thought to your concerns.
I let them all fly past me, but now I know I was wrong.

You were reaching out to me in your time of uncertainty and sorrow,
While all I cared about was me and what was mine,
And as I watch you pack your bags with tears streaming down my cheeks,
Too late, I feel all your angst and pain.

And all that’s left for me to do is say sorry in a sincere way,
With an apology that comes from deep inside my soul.
It’s all I have left to offer for your love and your loyalty.
It’s just a pity that my own loyalty I couldn’t hold.

Now all I have left of you are the memories of the goodness I have lost,
And that loss brings a sadness every time I think of your name.
And my heart yearns to be able to turn back the hands of time,
To correct the mistakes I’ve made and start again.

So please take time to think about what I’ve said, as it comes from the heart.
Take time and try to forgive me my failure to deliver,
And if you can’t, then cast me out of your life never to return,
And I will hang my head in shame…forever.

***

«Tears Of Forgiveness» by Linda Winchell

Do you think your tears will bring you God’s forgiveness?
Well you’ve got it all wrong my friend,
Forgiveness only comes through the blood of Jesus Christ,
Which will wash away all of mankinds sin.

You may claim to be a Christian,
But what about a true believer be?
Anyone can raise their hands and shout God’s praises,
But it’s our hearts the Lord really wants to see.

The trueness of the heart of man,
That which no earthly man can see inside,
For the heart can render many secrets held,
From others you may its content hide.

So cry a river of tears if you must,
Showing all who view their streams,
But what your heart hides from anothers view,
Is really who God wants us all too truly be.

***

«The Joy Of Forgiveness» by Susan T. Aparejo

The joy of forgiveness
lightens one’s burden,
It showers happiness,
Showers our heart with
blessedness, so we wake up
in a lighter mood of wellness.

Just try, unload your baggage,
Throw away such garbage,
Let our heart fly and set a voyage,

Feel free to take out such bondage,
And stop our physique from its wreckage.

The joy of forgiveness is the key,
To live on earth peacefully,
And wake up the morning readily,
A fresh air dominates comfortably,
So sweet a conscience of harmony.

I forgive you and you forgive me,

Another flow of peace release,
Another love and acceptance dominate,
Let the trust once again surface,
As we give each other a chance,
We mean forgiveness at hand.

***

«The Lover Asks Forgiveness Because Of His Many Moods» by William Butler Yeats

IF this importunate heart trouble your peace
With words lighter than air,
Or hopes that in mere hoping flicker and cease;
Crumple the rose in your hair;
And cover your lips with odorous twilight and say,
‘O Hearts of wind-blown flame!
O Winds, older than changing of night and day,
That murmuring and longing came
From marble cities loud with tabors of old
In dove-grey faery lands;

From battle-banners, fold upon purple fold,
Queens wrought with glimmering hands;
That saw young Niamh hover with love-lorn face
Above the wandering tide;
And lingered in the hidden desolate place
Where the last Phoenix died,
And wrapped the flames above his holy head;
And still murmur and long:
O piteous Hearts, changing till change be dead
In a tumultuous song’:

And cover the pale blossoms of your breast
With your dim heavy hair,
And trouble with a sigh for all things longing for rest
The odorous twilight there.

***

«The Path Of Forgiveness» by Mary Nagy

As I creep down the path of forgiveness
and I search for my own lonely heart,
I yearn for the feel of completion.
I must finish what God made me start.

I can see in the distant horizon
there resembles someone I once knew.
Do I have the strength needed to reach her?
If I don’t can I get it from you?

Will you help clear my path as I’m trudging
down that frightfully winding old road?
Can I lean on your arm for my safety
even though you can’t carry my load?

This old path is alive in my memory.
It knew I’d return on this day.
I am listening to my own heartbeat
while the unknown is leading the way.

My legs have been turned into jelly.
I see myself walking along.
I wonder if I should be back here.
For some reason this feels very wrong.

***

«The Smile» by Howard Bright

Bronze shadows pallid against the tears of time
casting wonder on faceless images void of depth.
She walked with poise and grace as the hour rang
calling my name, a warm filled tune on endless breath.

The moment was brief yet set in unbridled granite,
so there was no hope of breaking her binding grasp.
Cascading memories from life’s immortal chasms
brought a peace I knew her heart could make last.

When the darkness crept in to steal her away
by deception disguised as worthwhile gain.
The pain endured and weeping waves spent
tried to end our dream with unrequited blame.

Stoical visions danced candidly through the grief,
numbing expansions of wondrous times gone past.
Fighting the loveless demon that tore her astray
I was deciding the fate of a tumultuous caste.

Quietly I watched her silken and sultry moves,
the same as seen the years since our eyes met.
Weighing the countless graciousness from the err,
I realized with her smile she had paid her debt.

***

«Un-Forgiveness» by Tom Zart

Do you still struggle with fear and un-forgiveness
Of any who have wronged or hurt you?
True forgiveness is more than just a feeling
It’s an action we must preach, live and pursue.

The main reason we suffer from our failure to forgive
Is a simple matter called human self-pride.
Christ forgave those who nailed Him to the cross
Where He was beaten, crucified, and died.

When you have been hurt plead for deliverance
To guide you in all you think, do and say.
Forgive your offenders and forgive yourself
As to God All Mighty you confess and pray.

***

«Why It Hurts» by Jose Pazsoldan

I don’t understand why there’s pressure inside,
but the pain that comes from it brings a tear to my eye,
I haven’t talked or seen you in a long time,
so why do I still feel pain inside,
is it a heart attack or is my heart trying to put itself back,
from the years of miss-use broken in pieces, quarters, and halves,
when I finally have the courage to look at your page,
I see you’ve grown, but I have aged,
you’re so beautiful, you look like an angel to me,
but by now I know you’ve forgotten all about me,
I don’t blame you, I would to,
after all the nasty things I said to you,
but you have to understand I don’t have the time to play the kid,
I have a lot of work and time put in,
but for some reason all my songs are about you,
at this point I feel lost without you,
you were my happiest inspiration to sing about and write,
but now you’re the reason why I can’t sleep at night,
but I know I must learn to forget,
practice ignorance pretend to not exist,
but as my last message,
thoughts about you,
I want you to know how much I think about you,
if fate wanted us to be together then together we shall be,
but for now I will forget about you and me,
before I push the reset button for my heart,
there still a chance for a start,
just tell me you miss me and I’ll back away,
then in my heart you will stay.

***

«Wisdom, Forgiveness & Love» by Tom Zart

Jesus perished from pain we can’t begin to comprehend
By His suffering the whip, the nail and the cross.
Those who refused He was the Son of God
Intended to teach mankind who was boss.

The Wounds Christ bore were to save us from sin
The strips that shed His blood to the dust of Earth.
He washed us clean of all our past wrongs
As a gesture of faith, motivation and worth.

Too many forget the truth of their own existence
The crucial aspects of God’s grace within and above.
If we’re honest with ourselves and submit to Him
He shall bless us wisdom, forgiveness and love.

The ability to forgive defines, strong people. The idea of forgiveness sooner or later comes into the life of every adult. It is a voluntary refusal to judge someone, to punish, and to restore justice on your own and at your level of development.

Many of us get happy with it and look forward to this beautiful season. It is in the spring when nature awakens, and a spirit of magic flies in the air. Birds sing, streams ripple, and the sun appears much more often. Springtime signs are loved to be described by poets. Soak in this miraculous moment even more deeply.

«A Light Exists In Spring» by Emily Dickinson

A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period —
When March is scarcely here

A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.

It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.

Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay —

A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament

***

«A Prayer in Spring» by Robert Frost

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil.

***

«Acorn» by Darren C. Mossman

The spring was a ghost, as winter wither’d away.
The bird’s song was vapid, the flowers awaited May.
Alone we all sat, windows locked and shutter’d,
afraid of our neighbours, our bread went unbutter’d.

All shopkeepers were closed, all kegs were untapped,
all music did cease, all performance unclapped.
Alone we all sat, doors closed and locked.
Our pantry’s slowly dwindling, inadequately stocked.

All games were ended, all our works were halted.
All prayers were whispered, all hopes were exalted.
Alone we all sat, as the world slowly warmed,
the trees unpruned, ragged and deformed.

The gardens untilled, the boats tied to dock.
The productive were idle, the busy as rock.
Alone we all sat, avoiding the ravage
of an invisible foe, so vile and savage.

The streets were all empty, the pews were all bare.
The neighbours were treated only with what we could spare.
Alone we all sat, fearful and forlorn,
Locked in our homes, to weather this storm.

As the sun warms the airs, and the rains wet its feet,
The Oak reaches upwards as if heaven to meet.
Alone we all sat, uncertain and torn,
Our Solace unveiled by its wee acorn.

***

«After the Winter» by Claude McKay

Some day, when trees have shed their leaves

     And against the morning’s white

The shivering birds beneath the eaves

     Have sheltered for the night,

We’ll turn our faces southward, love,

     Toward the summer isle

Where bamboos spire the shafted grove

     And wide-mouthed orchids smile.

And we will seek the quiet hill

     Where towers the cotton tree,

And leaps the laughing crystal rill,

     And works the droning bee.

And we will build a cottage there

     Beside an open glade,

With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,

     And ferns that never fade.

***

«April» by Ella Higginson

Ah, who is this with twinkling feet,
With glad, young eyes and laughter sweet,
     Who tosses back her strong, wild hair,
     And saucy kisses flings to Care,
     The while she laughs at her? Beware—
You who this winsome maiden meet!

She dances on a daisied throne,
About her waist a slender zone
     Of dandelion’s gold; her eyes
     Are softer than the summer skies,
     And blue as violets; and lies
A tearful laughter in her tone.

She reaches dimpled arms and bare;
Her breath is sweet as wild-rose air;
     She sighs, she smiles, she glances down,
     Her brows meet in a sudden frown;
     She laughs; then tears the violets drown—
If you should meet her—ah, beware!

***

«Charming Spring» by Patricia L. Cisco

Reminiscent melodies
serenade the morning breeze.

Feathered creatures nest with care
in cherry blossoms pink and fair.

Perfumed scent of roses flow.
Tiny blades of green grass grow.

Misty showers soak the earth,
glorious colors come to birth.

Gathering clouds come and go,
rain, sun, and vibrant bow.

Dainty petals, fancy flair,
dancing in the warm, sweet air.

Violets, yellows, purest white,
graceful, gentle, welcomed sight.

Thank you, oh sweet lovely Spring,
patiently waiting the charms you bring!

***

«Daisy Time» by Marjorie Pickthall

See, the grass is full of stars,

Fallen in their brightness;

Hearts they have of shining gold,

Rays of shining whiteness.

Buttercups have honeyed hearts,

Bees they love the clover,

But I love the daisies’ dance

All the meadow over.

Blow, O blow, you happy winds,

Singing summer’s praises,

Up the field and down the field

A-dancing with the daisies.

***

«Fides, Spes» by Willa Cather

Joy is come to the little
          Everywhere;
Pink to the peach and pink to the apple,
          White to the pear.
Stars are come to the dogwood,
          Astral, pale;
Mists are pink on the red-bud,
          Veil after veil.
Flutes for the feathery locusts,
          Soft as spray;
Tongues of the lovers for chestnuts, poplars,
          Babbling May.
Yellow plumes for the willows’
          Wind-blown hair;
Oak trees and sycamores only
          Comfortless bare.
Sore from steel and the watching,
          Somber and old,—
Wooing robes for the beeches, larches,
          Splashed with gold;
Breath o’ love to the lilac,
          Warm with noon.—
Great hearts cold when the little
          Beat mad so soon.
What is their faith to bear it
          Till it come,
Waiting with rain-cloud and swallow,
          Frozen, dumb?

***

«Flower God, God Of The Spring» by Robert Louis Stevenson

FLOWER god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful,
Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles,
Here I wander in April
Cold, grey-headed; and still to my
Heart, Spring comes with a bound, Spring the deliverer,
Spring, song-leader in woods, chorally resonant;
Spring, flower-planter in meadows,
Child-conductor in willowy
Fields deep dotted with bloom, daisies and crocuses:
Here that child from his heart drinks of eternity:

O child, happy are children!
She still smiles on their innocence,
She, dear mother in God, fostering violets,
Fills earth full of her scents, voices and violins:
Thus one cunning in music
Wakes old chords in the memory:
Thus fair earth in the Spring leads her performances.
One more touch of the bow, smell of the virginal
Green – one more, and my bosom
Feels new life with an ecstasy.

***

«Green Is Spring» by Elizabeth Y. Linn

Green is spring,
Bright, fresh, and new.

Yellow is the sun,
Bright, bold, and true.

Blue is the sky,
Shimmering and cool.

Purple is the king,
Quite royal in his rule.

Orange is fire,
Burning hot in the night.

Red is fall,
Bold, brilliant, and bright.

All these vivid colors combine,
So that in this world,
We never get bored.

***

«I Have This Way of Being» by Jamaal May

I have this, and this isn’t a mouth
           full of the names of odd flowers

I’ve grown in secret.
           I know none of these by name

but have this garden now,
           and pastel somethings bloom

near the others and others.
           I have this trowel, these overalls,

this ridiculous hat now.
           This isn’t a lung full of air.

Not a fist full of weeds that rise
           yellow then white then windswept.

This is little more than a way
           to kneel and fill gloves with sweat,

so that the trowel in my hand
           will have something to push against,

rather, something to push
           against that it knows will bend

and give and return as sprout
           and petal and sepal and bloom.

***

«In Perpetual Spring» by Amy Gestler

Gardens are also good places

to sulk. You pass beds of

spiky voodoo lilies   

and trip over the roots   

of a sweet gum tree,   

in search of medieval   

plants whose leaves,   

when they drop off   

turn into birds

if they fall on land,

and colored carp if they   

plop into water.

Suddenly the archetypal   

human desire for peace   

with every other species   

wells up in you. The lion   

and the lamb cuddling up.

The snake and the snail, kissing.

Even the prick of the thistle,   

queen of the weeds, revives   

your secret belief

in perpetual spring,

your faith that for every hurt   

there is a leaf to cure it.

***

«Lines Written in Early Spring» by William Wordsworth

I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:—
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?

***

«May» by Jonathan Galassi

The backyard apple tree gets sad so soon,

takes on a used-up, feather-duster look

within a week.

The ivy’s spring reconnaissance campaign

sends red feelers out and up and down

to find the sun.

Ivy from last summer clogs the pool,

brewing a loamy, wormy, tea-leaf mulch

soft to the touch

and rank with interface of rut and rot.

The month after the month they say is cruel

is and is not.

***

«May Day» by Sara Teasdale

A delicate fabric of bird song
  Floats in the air,
The smell of wet wild earth
  Is everywhere.

Red small leaves of the maple
  Are clenched like a hand,
Like girls at their first communion
  The pear trees stand.

Oh I must pass nothing by
  Without loving it much,
The raindrop try with my lips,
  The grass with my touch;

For how can I be sure
  I shall see again
The world on the first of May
  Shining after the rain?

***

«May’s Spring Days» by Hemakumar Nanayakkara

Over the distant mountains morning breeze blows
Humming through robust beech birch and oak trees
Evergreen pines whistle to the tune of nippy breeze
Group of songbirds sing delightful springtime Songs

Twirling flossy clouds dance graceful waltzes
Mountain range beneath has got rich pastures
Cows graze fresh grass in lavish green Meadows
Chiming cowbells from mornings to evenings

Sunlight glistens after early morning showers
Pearls like dewdrops fastened to lilac flowers
Beautiful Little lilacs flourish in heavy Clusters
Spreading honey scented appealing fragrances

May’s spring days are refreshing and sunny
Trees have new leaves flowers rapidly bloom
When cool breeze blows through the garden
Young maple leaves rustle and pansies dangle

***

«Miracle on St David’s Day» by Gillian Clarke

An afternoon yellow and open-mouthed
with daffodils. The sun treads the path
among cedars and enormous oaks.
It might be a country house, guests strolling,
the rumps of gardeners between nursery shrubs.

I am reading poetry to the insane.
An old woman, interrupting, offers
as many buckets of coal as I need.
A beautiful chestnut-haired boy listens
entirely absorbed. A schizophrenic

on a good day, they tell me later.
In a cage of first March sun a woman
sits not listening, not seeing, not feeling.
In her neat clothes the woman is absent.
A big, mild man is tenderly led

to his chair. He has never spoken.
His labourer’s hands on his knees, he rocks
gently to the rhythms of the poems.
I read to their presences, absences,
to the big, dumb labouring man as he rocks.

He is suddenly standing, silently,
huge and mild, but I feel afraid. Like slow
movement of spring water or the first bird
of the year in the breaking darkness,
the labourer’s voice recites ‘The Daffodils’.

The nurses are frozen, alert; the patients
seem to listen. He is hoarse but word-perfect.
Outside the daffodils are still as wax,
a thousand, ten thousand, their syllables
unspoken, their creams and yellows still.

Forty years ago, in a Valleys school,
the class recited poetry by rote.
Since the dumbness of misery fell
he has remembered there was a music
of speech and that once he had something to say.

When he’s done, before the applause, we observe
the flowers’ silence. A thrush sings
and the daffodils are flame.

***

«Monday Rain» by Mandeep Singh

My sister woke me up
and called me out,
I got up annoyed
and asked her what was it about.

she replied-come out, it’s gonna rain,
I jumped out of the bed,
and opened the glass window and,
a cool breeze whizzed past my head.

The delightful fragrance,
The magical lightning,
and the thunder storm
was very frightening.

To me it was the best creation of God,
the magnificent rain
and for others
it was just another Monday rain….!!!

***

«More Than Enough» by Marge Piercy

The first lily of June opens its red mouth.

All over the sand road where we walk

multiflora rose climbs trees cascading

white or pink blossoms, simple, intense

the scene drifting like colored mist.

The arrowhead is spreading its creamy

clumps of flower and the blackberries

are blooming in the thickets. Season of

joy for the bee. The green will never

again be so green, so purely and lushly

new, grass lifting its wheaty seedheads

into the wind. Rich fresh wine

of June, we stagger into you smeared

with pollen, overcome as the turtle

laying her eggs in roadside sand.

***

«Narcissus» by Patricia Hooper

Near the path through the woods I’ve seen it:
a trail of white candles.

I could find it again, I could follow
its light deep into shadows.

Didn’t I stand there once?
Didn’t I choose to go back

down the cleared path, the familiar?
Narcissus, you said. Wasn’t this

the flower whose sudden enchantments
led Persephone down into Hades?

You remember the way she was changed
when she came every spring, having seen

the withering branches, the chasms,
and how she had to return there

helplessly, having eaten
the seed of desire. What was it

I saw you were offering me
without meaning to, there in the sunlight,

while the flowers beckoned and shone
in their flickering season?

***

«Nature’s Way» by Christopher Salerno

Upon a nice mid-spring day,
Let’s take a look at Nature’s way.
Breathe the scent of nice fresh air,
Feel the breeze within your hair.

The grass will poke between your toes,
Smell the flowers with your nose.
Clouds form shapes within the skies,
And light will glisten from your eyes.

Hear the buzzing of the bees,
Climb the tallest willow trees.
Look across the meadow way,
And you shall see a young deer play.

Pick the daisies as they grow,
Watch a gentle cold stream flow.
Know the sounds of water splash,
Catch its glimmer in a flash.

When altogether all seems sound,
Lay yourself upon the ground.
Take a moment to inhale,
And listen to Nature tell her tale…

By Heidi Campbell

«Notes For Further Study»

You are a nobody
until another man leaves
a note under your wiper:
I like your hair, clothes, car—call me!
Late May, I brush pink
Crepe Myrtle blossoms
from the hood of my car.
Again spring factors
into our fever. Would this
affair leave any room for error?
What if I only want
him to hum me a lullaby.
To rest in the nets
of our own preferences.
I think of women
I’ve loved who, near the end,
made love to me solely
for the endorphins. Praise
be to those bodies lit
with magic. I pulse
my wipers, sweep away pollen
from the windshield glass
to allow the radar
detector to detect. In the prim
light of spring I drive
home alone along the river’s
tight curves where it bends
like handwritten words.
On the radio, a foreign love
song some men sing to rise.

***

«Ode on the Spring» by Thomas Gray

Lo! where the rosy-bosom’d Hours,

Fair Venus’ train appear,

Disclose the long-expecting flowers,

And wake the purple year!

The Attic warbler pours her throat,

Responsive to the cuckoo’s note,

The untaught harmony of spring:

While whisp’ring pleasure as they fly,

Cool zephyrs thro’ the clear blue sky

Their gather’d fragrance fling.

Where’er the oak’s thick branches stretch

A broader, browner shade;

Where’er the rude and moss-grown beech

O’er-canopies the glade,

Beside some water’s rushy brink

With me the Muse shall sit, and think

(At ease reclin’d in rustic state)

How vain the ardour of the crowd,

How low, how little are the proud,

How indigent the great!

Still is the toiling hand of Care:

The panting herds repose:

Yet hark, how thro’ the peopled air

The busy murmur glows!

The insect youth are on the wing,

Eager to taste the honied spring,

And float amid the liquid noon:

Some lightly o’er the current skim,

Some show their gaily-gilded trim

Quick-glancing to the sun.

To Contemplation’s sober eye

Such is the race of man:

And they that creep, and they that fly,

Shall end where they began.

Alike the busy and the gay

But flutter thro’ life’s little day,

In fortune’s varying colours drest:

Brush’d by the hand of rough Mischance,

Or chill’d by age, their airy dance

They leave, in dust to rest.

Methinks I hear in accents low

The sportive kind reply:

Poor moralist! and what art thou?

A solitary fly!

Thy joys no glitt’ring female meets,

No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets,

No painted plumage to display:

On hasty wings thy youth is flown;

Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone—

We frolic, while ’tis May.

***

«Ode to Spring» by Frederick Seidel

I can only find words for.

And sometimes I can’t.

Here are these flowers that stand for.

I stand here on the sidewalk.

I can’t stand it, but yes of course I understand it.

Everything has to have meaning.

Things have to stand for something.

I can’t take the time. Even skin-deep is too deep.

I say to the flower stand man:

Beautiful flowers at your flower stand, man.

I’ll take a dozen of the lilies.

I’m standing as it were on my knees

Before a little man up on a raised

Runway altar where his flowers are arrayed

Along the outside of the shop.

I take my flames and pay inside.

I go off and have sexual intercourse.

The woman is the woman I love.

The room displays thirteen lilies.

I stand on the surface.

***

«Paris In Spring» by Sara Teasdale

The city’s all a-shining
Beneath a fickle sun,
A gay young wind’s a-blowing,
The little shower is done.
But the rain-drops still are clinging
And falling one by one —
Oh it’s Paris, it’s Paris,
And spring-time has begun.

I know the Bois is twinkling

In a sort of hazy sheen,
And down the Champs the gray old arch
Stands cold and still between.
But the walk is flecked with sunlight
Where the great acacias lean,
Oh it’s Paris, it’s Paris,
And the leaves are growing green.

The sun’s gone in, the sparkle’s dead,
There falls a dash of rain,

But who would care when such an air
Comes blowing up the Seine?
And still Ninette sits sewing
Beside her window-pane,
When it’s Paris, it’s Paris,
And spring-time’s come again.

***

«Penumbrae» by John Updike

The shadows have their seasons, too.

The feathery web the budding maples

cast down upon the sullen lawn

bears but a faint relation to

high summer’s umbrageous weight

and tunnellike continuum—

black leached from green, deep pools

wherein a globe of gnats revolves

as airy as an astrolabe.

The thinning shade of autumn is

an inherited Oriental,

red worn to pink, nap worn to thread.

Shadows on snow look blue. The skier,

exultant at the summit, sees his poles

elongate toward the valley: thus

each blade of grass projects another

opposite the sun, and in marshes

the mesh is infinite,

as the winged eclipse an eagle in flight

drags across the desert floor

is infinitesimal.

And shadows on water!—

the beech bough bent to the speckled lake

where silt motes flicker gold,

or the steel dock underslung

with a submarine that trembles,

its ladder stiffened by air.

And loveliest, because least looked-for,

gray on gray, the stripes

the pearl-white winter sun

hung low beneath the leafless wood

draws out from trunk to trunk across the road

like a stairway that does not rise.

***

«Song For An Old-Fashioned April» by Judith Chiorazzi

April, April, how do I know
whether thou be friend or foe?
Give me sunlight, give me breath,
Give me belief there is no death.

How I wonder, my giver of the flower
Whether I’ll have staying power;
To wage this battle through thick and thin
To know my love will come back again…

Tell me April, who is my love,
The red robin or the cooing dove?
How can a messenger seem so still
While streams overflow with winter’s swill?

Give me love or give me power;
I’ll take some of both
And contemplate the flower……

***

«Song of a Second April» by Edna St. Vincent Millay

April this year, not otherwise
   Than April of a year ago,
Is full of whispers, full of sighs,
   Of dazzling mud and dingy snow;
   Hepaticas that pleased you so
Are here again, and butterflies.

There rings a hammering all day,
   And shingles lie about the doors;
In orchards near and far away
   The grey wood-pecker taps and bores;
   The men are merry at their chores,
And children earnest at their play.

The larger streams run still and deep,
   Noisy and swift the small brooks run
Among the mullein stalks the sheep
   Go up the hillside in the sun,
   Pensively,—only you are gone,
You that alone I cared to keep.

***

«Song Of March» by Patricia L. Cisco

With winter’s footprints in the past,
and snows begin to melt at last.

With longer days and shorter nights,
the wayward winds of March take flight.

Four winds she holds within her grip,
then hurls them from her fingertip.

Her woolly, fleecy clouds of white,
she sets in skies of blue delight.

Her wild bouts of gusty breezes
roar through valleys, hills, and trees.

That high pitch whistling song she sings
awakens earth and flowering things.

She tears a hole in heaven’s sky
so sun can shine and rain can cry.

She gently calms as spring draws near,
as blooming daffodils appear.

She welcomes April showers in,
then gathers up her dwindling winds.
Now her long journey home begins,

knowing she’ll be back this way,
upon a cold, late winter’s day,

when nights grow short
and days grow long.

Listen for her whistling song!

***

«Song: Spring» by William Shakespeare

When daisies pied and violets blue

   And lady-smocks all silver-white

And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue

   Do paint the meadows with delight,

The cuckoo then, on every tree,

Mocks married men; for thus sings he,

                         Cuckoo;

Cuckoo, cuckoo: Oh word of fear,

Unpleasing to a married ear!

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,

   And merry larks are plowmen’s clocks,

When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,

   And maidens bleach their summer smocks,

The cuckoo then, on every tree,

Mocks married men; for thus sings he,

                         Cuckoo;

Cuckoo, cuckoo: Oh word of fear,

Unpleasing to a married ear!

***

«Sonnet 98» by William Shakespeare

From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,
That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him.
Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odour and in hue,
Could make me any summer’s story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:
Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight
Drawn after you, – you pattern of all those.
    Yet seem’d it winter still, and, you away,
    As with your shadow I with these did play.

***

«Spring» by Martin Taylor

One of four siblings,
the youngest of course.
Or am I the oldest?
Not really sure.

I bring new life
and herald the warmth,
but hay fever, too,
is in my source.

Autumn has color
but tinged with decay.
Some call her Fall.
I think she’s OK.

Not like my bother,
cold in his breath.
Winter his name,
in darkness brings death.

Summer’s the one
that gets all the glory,
but brush fires and sunburn
are in her story.

So, season of choice,
who will win?
The one with potential,
of course; it’s Spring.

***

«Spring» by Camille Gotera

When the cold, harsh winter has given its last breath,
When the sky above shows life instead of death,
When the claws reaching to the frozen sky become decorated with leaves,
When the animals -long in hiding- scurry from trees,
We know winter has ended.

When the frost on grass is replaced with sweet dew,
When the fields become dotted with flowers, reminding me of you,
When the lonely silence becomes filled with melodies,
When you feel warm air, erasing bad memories
We know winter has ended.

When the hard, bare ground becomes painted with green,
When the frost-bitten air becomes fresh and clean,
When the coats and boots are all stored away,
When the playgrounds become occupied again with child’s play,
We know winter has ended.

When you hear the pleasant sound of children’s laughter,
When the air is filled with joy- long sought after,
When the world is filled with sunlight, brighter and longer,
When the song of Mother Nature becomes stronger,
Spring has begun.

***

«Spring» by Christina Rossetti

Frost-locked all the winter, 

Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits, 

What shall make their sap ascend 

That they may put forth shoots? 

Tips of tender green, 

Leaf, or blade, or sheath; 

Telling of the hidden life 

That breaks forth underneath, 

Life nursed in its grave by Death. 

Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly, 

Drips the soaking rain, 

By fits looks down the waking sun: 

Young grass springs on the plain; 

Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees; 

Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits, 

Swollen with sap put forth their shoots; 

Curled-headed ferns sprout in the lane; 

Birds sing and pair again.

There is no time like Spring, 

When life’s alive in everything, 

Before new nestlings sing, 

Before cleft swallows speed their journey back 

Along the trackless track – 

God guides their wing, 

He spreads their table that they nothing lack, – 

Before the daisy grows a common flower 

Before the sun has power 

To scorch the world up in his noontide hour. 

There is no time like Spring, 

Like Spring that passes by; 

There is no life like Spring-life born to die, 

Piercing the sod, 

Clothing the uncouth clod, 

Hatched in the nest, 

Fledged on the windy bough, 

Strong on the wing: 

There is no time like Spring that passes by, 

Now newly born, and now 

Hastening to die.

***

«Spring» by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring –         

   When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;         

   Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush         

Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring         

The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;

   The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush         

   The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush         

With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.         

What is all this juice and all this joy?         

   A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning

In Eden garden. – Have, get, before it cloy,         

   Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,         

Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,         

   Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.      

***

«Spring» by Edna St. Vincent Millay

To what purpose, April, do you return again?

Beauty is not enough.

You can no longer quiet me with the redness

Of little leaves opening stickily.

I know what I know.

The sun is hot on my neck as I observe

The spikes of the crocus.

The smell of the earth is good.

It is apparent that there is no death.

But what does that signify?

Not only under ground are the brains of men

Eaten by maggots.

Life in itself

Is nothing,

An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.

It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,

April

Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

***

«Spring» by Eliza Cook

Welcome, all hail to thee!
     Welcome, young Spring!
Thy sun-ray is bright
     On the butterfly’s wing.
Beauty shines forth
     In the blossom-robed trees;
Perfume floats by
     On the soft southern breeze.

Music, sweet music,
     Sounds over the earth;
One glad choral song
     Greets the primrose’s birth;
The lark soars above,
     With its shrill matin strain;
The shepherd boy tunes
     His reed pipe on the plain.

Music, sweet music,
     Cheers meadow and lea;—
In the song of the blackbird,
     The hum of the bee;
The loud happy laughter
     Of children at play
Proclaim how they worship
     Spring’s beautiful day.

The eye of the hale one,
     With joy in its gleam,
Looks up in the noontide,
     And steals from the beam;
But the cheek of the pale one
     Is mark’d with despair,
To feel itself fading,
     When all is so fair.

The hedges, luxuriant
     With flowers and balm,
Are purple with violets,
     And shaded with palm;
The zephyr-kiss’d grass
     Is beginning to wave;
Fresh verdure is decking
     The garden and grave.

Welcome! all hail to thee,
     Heart-stirring May!
Thou hast won from my wild harp
     A rapturous lay.
And the last dying murmur
     That sleeps on the string
Is welcome! All hail to thee,
     Welcome, young Spring!

***

«Spring and All» by William Carlos Williams

By the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast-a cold wind. Beyond, the
waste of broad, muddy fields
brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen

patches of standing water
the scattering of tall trees

All along the road the reddish
purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy
stuff of bushes and small trees
with dead, brown leaves under them
leafless vines—

Lifeless in appearance, sluggish
dazed spring approaches—

They enter the new world naked,
cold, uncertain of all
save that they enter. All about them
the cold, familiar wind—

Now the grass, tomorrow
the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf
One by one objects are defined—
It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf

But now the stark dignity of
entrance—Still, the profound change
has come upon them: rooted, they
grip down and begin to awaken

***

«Spring And Winter» by William Shakespeare

WHEN daisies pied and violets blue,
   And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
   Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
   Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo! – O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
   And merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
   And maidens bleach their summer smocks
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
   Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo! – O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!

***

«Spring Has Sprung» by Judith Chiorazzi

Sun-kissed day
Blends into
Sun’s warmth of
Evening.
Forgive us, Lord,
If we be cleaving
To these gentle
Dappled nights
Filled with bird-song
And delights.
How can there be strife
When this peaceful day
Ascends and descends,
Gently like an amends?
For the harshness of hell,
And the troubles which dwell,
All winter in the human heart.
With spring we have a
Brand new start.

***

«Spring in New Hampshire» by Claude McKay

Too green the springing April grass,

Too blue the silver-speckled sky,

For me to linger here, alas,

While happy winds go laughing by,

Wasting the golden hours indoors,

Washing windows and scrubbing floors.

Too wonderful the April night,

Too faintly sweet the first May flowers,

The stars too gloriously bright,

For me to spend the evening hours,

When fields are fresh and streams are leaping,

Wearied, exhausted, dully sleeping.

***

«Spring in Tulwa Thlocco» by Alexander Posey

Thro’ the vine-embowered portal blows 
   The fragrant breath of summer-time; 
Far, the river, brightly winding, goes  
    With murmurs falling into rhyme.  
 
It is spring in Tulwa Thlocco now;  
   The fresher hue of grass and tree  
All but hides upon the mountain’s brow  
   The green haunts of the chickadee.  
 
There are drifts of plum blooms, snowy white,  
   Along the lane and greening hedge;  
And the dogwood blossoms cast a light  
    Upon the forest’s dusky edge.  
 
Crocus, earliest flower of the year,  
   Hangs out its starry petals where  
The spring beauties in their hiding peer, 
   And the red-buds crimson all the air.  

***

«Spring in War-Time» by Sara Teasdale

I feel the spring far off, far off,
    The faint, far scent of bud and leaf—
Oh, how can spring take heart to come
    To a world in grief,
    Deep grief?

The sun turns north, the days grow long,
    Later the evening star grows bright—
How can the daylight linger on
    For men to fight,
    Still fight?

The grass is waking in the ground,
    Soon it will rise and blow in waves—
How can it have the heart to sway
    Over the graves,
    New graves?

Under the boughs where lovers walked
    The apple-blooms will shed their breath—
But what of all the lovers now
   Parted by Death,
    Grey Death?

***

«Spring Pools» by Robert Frost

These pools that, though in forests, still reflect
The total sky almost without defect,
And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,
Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone,
And yet not out by any brook or river,
But up by roots to bring dark foliage on.

The trees that have it in their pent-up buds
To darken nature and be summer woods –
Let them think twice before they use their powers

To blot out and drink up and sweep away
These flowery waters and these watery flowers
From snow that melted only yesterday.

***

«Spring Quiet» by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Gone were but the Winter,
Come were but the Spring,
I would go to a covert
Where the birds sing;

Where in the whitethorn
Singeth a thrush,
And a robin sings
In the holly-bush.

Full of fresh scents
Are the budding boughs
Arching high over
A cool green house:

Full of sweet scents,
And whispering air
Which sayeth softly:
“We spread no snare;

“Here dwell in safety,
Here dwell alone,
With a clear stream
And a mossy stone.

“Here the sun shineth
Most shadily;
Here is heard an echo
Of the far sea,
Though far off it be.”

***

«Spring Rain» by Sara Teasdale

I thought I had forgotten,
But it all came back again
To-night with the first spring thunder
In a rush of rain.

I remembered a darkened doorway
Where we stood while the storm swept by,
Thunder gripping the earth
And lightning scrawled on the sky.

The passing motor busses swayed,
For the street was a river of rain,
Lashed into little golden waves
In the lamp light’s stain.

With the wild spring rain and thunder
My heart was wild and gay;
Your eyes said more to me that night
Than your lips would ever say. . . .

I thought I had forgotten,
But it all came back again
To-night with the first spring thunder
In a rush of rain.

***

«Spring Sings» by Tiffany Santa Cruz

Spring sings,
Its gentle breeze
Butterflies of Glazing wings
Birds cheerfully sing their
Lighthearted songs
As they soar across the meadow
Of elegant flowers
Delivering the message that spring is near
The flowers danced of such joy
The silent dance
Moved the lake
The water was sparkling
For the flowers danced gracefully
Across it
Spring sings its gentle song.

***

«Spring The Season Of Joy» by Rahat Sandhu

The spring is here and the sun is bright,
Everyone is playful they are not having anyone’s fright.
I could see the little birds swaying their wings,
I could hear the pretty flowers sing.
The green leaves that are dancing in the air,
Are fearless from everyone present here.
Tip! tip! tip! the water falls,
Sweep! sweep! sweep! the caterpillar crawls.
And when the playful squirrels run,
They seem that they are having so much fun.
As the small kids are swinging high,
Their rosy pink cheeks get shy.
Jumping, jumping come the rabbits,
I really praise their lovely habits.
As they play with their long ears,
Everyone forgets their cries and tears.
But lets wait for the butterflies,
Who keep on flying in the endless skies.
But now mam taps on the door,
And it’s the time to go indoor.
I’m always eager for the spring to come,
Because it brings along so much fun.

***

«Spring, the sweet spring» by Thomas Nashe

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king,

Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,

Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:

      Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The palm and may make country houses gay,

Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,

And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay:

      Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,

Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,

In every street these tunes our ears do greet:

      Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!

            Spring, the sweet spring!

***

«The Aftermath Of Melody» by Lisa Hart

Whispering quietly, the raindrops fall;
Such ominous secrets, for one so small.
Slowly, dispersing, the raindrops subside.
Leaving all but the hesitant, to trickle behind.

The storm has passed, the clouds have gone.
Out comes a robin to sing us his song.
He fills his heart with rhapsody, for
The aftermath of melody.

Flocks of birds, fast as they came,
To sing us a rainbow,
After the rain.

***

«The Enkindled Spring» by D.H. Lawrence

This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, 
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, 
Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between 
Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes. 

I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration 
Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze 
Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration, 
Faces of people streaming across my gaze. 

And I, what fountain of fire am I among 
This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed 
About like a shadow buffeted in the throng 
Of flames, a shadow that’s gone astray, and is lost.

***

«The Man Who Is Ready» by Charles Rafferty

I’m on the brink of daffodils.
The backyard snow is full of urine
blooms, the mud underneath is ready
to be itself. It won’t be long
before the planet tilts and the birds
roll north like marbles, the sap
crawls out of the bedrock. The meadow’s
sublimation makes me feel
like a piece of sky — ready to plummet,
ready to rain. Up on the mountain
the snowcap wishes toward water —
a wildness that doesn’t lose pace,
no matter the stones crowding its path,
no matter the roots of everything. Down here
I’m waiting for the ants to arrive
with their shifting script, their message
from below. I’m ready for this page,
this square of softening dirt,
for this garden of almost daffodils
to bang all my air to bells.

***

«The Spring» by Thomas Carew

Now that the winter’s gone, the earth hath lost

Her snow-white robes, and now no more the frost

Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream

Upon the silver lake or crystal stream;

But the warm sun thaws the benumbed earth,

And makes it tender; gives a sacred birth

To the dead swallow; wakes in hollow tree

The drowsy cuckoo, and the humble-bee.

Now do a choir of chirping minstrels bring

In triumph to the world the youthful Spring.

The valleys, hills, and woods in rich array

Welcome the coming of the long’d-for May.

Now all things smile, only my love doth lour;

Nor hath the scalding noonday sun the power

To melt that marble ice, which still doth hold

Her heart congeal’d, and makes her pity cold.

The ox, which lately did for shelter fly

Into the stall, doth now securely lie

In open fields; and love no more is made

By the fireside, but in the cooler shade

Amyntas now doth with his Chloris sleep

Under a sycamore, and all things keep

Time with the season; only she doth carry

June in her eyes, in her heart January.

***

«The Spring And The Fall» by Edna St. Vincent Millay

In the spring of the year, in the spring of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
The trees were black where the bark was wet.
I see them yet, in the spring of the year.
He broke me a bough of the blossoming peach
That was out of the way and hard to reach.

In the fall of the year, in the fall of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
The rooks went up with a raucous trill.

I hear them still, in the fall of the year.
He laughed at all I dared to praise,
And broke my heart, in little ways.

Year be springing or year be falling,
The bark will drip and the birds be calling.
There’s much that’s fine to see and hear
In the spring of a year, in the fall of a year.
‘Tis not love’s going hurt my days.
But that it went in little ways.

***

«The Spring Crocus Fairy» by Anne Pollock

Awake, little crocus, spring is nigh!
Let me kiss the slumber from your eye.
Come! Dance with me upon the lawn,
The night is o’er, embrace the dawn!

How long I’ve waited patiently
Mid changing seasons of the year;
Through sunshine, harvest, and icy blast
When last I watched through frozen tears.

Now nature stirs from winter’s lair
As petals open to the rain,
And I shall hover ever near
Until you fall asleep again.

***

«The Thrush» by Edward Thomas

When Winter’s ahead,
What can you read in November
That you read in April
When Winter’s dead?

I hear the thrush, and I see
Him alone at the end of the lane
Near the bare poplar’s tip,
Singing continuously.

Is it more that you know
Than that, even as in April,
So in November,
Winter is gone that must go?

Or is all your lore
Not to call November November,
And April April,
And Winter Winter—no more?

But I know the months all,
And their sweet names, April,
May and June and October,
As you call and call

I must remember
What died into April
And consider what will be born
Of a fair November;

And April I love for what
It was born of, and November
For what it will die in,
What they are and what they are not,

While you love what is kind,
What you can sing in
And love and forget in
All that’s ahead and behind. 

***

«The Winter’s Spring» by John Clare

The winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please–no bees to hum–
The coming spring’s already come.

I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,

Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
‘Tis but the winter garb of spring.

I never want the grass to bloom:
The snowstorm’s best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O’er snow-white meadows sees the spring.

I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove’s brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.

It is the foliage of the woods
That winters bring–the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
Nature’s white spurts of the spring.

***

«To Daffodils» by Robert Herrick

Fair Daffodils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon;

As yet the early-rising sun

Has not attain’d his noon.

Stay, stay,

Until the hasting day

Has run

But to the even-song;

And, having pray’d together, we

Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,

We have as short a spring;

As quick a growth to meet decay,

As you, or anything.

We die

As your hours do, and dry

Away,

Like to the summer’s rain;

Or as the pearls of morning’s dew,

Ne’er to be found again.

***

«Today» by Billy Collins

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,
holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.

***

«Villanelle Of Spring Bells» by Keith Douglas

Bells in the town alight with spring
converse, with a concordance of new airs
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.

People emerge from winter to hear them ring,
children glitter with mischief and the blind man hears
bells in the town alight with spring.

Even he on his eyes feels the caressing
finger of Persephone, and her voice escaped from tears

make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.

Bird feels the enchantment of his wing
and in ten fine notes dispels twenty cares.
Bells in the town alight with spring

warble the praise of Time, for he can bring
this season: chimes the merry heaven bears
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.

All evil men intent on evil thing
falter, for in their cold unready ears
bells in the town alight with spring
make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing.

***

«When Spring Goes By» by Duncan Campbell Scott

The winds that on the uplands softly lie,
Grow keener where the ice is lingering still
Where the first robin on the sheltered hill
Pipes blithely to the tune, “When Spring goes by!”
Hear him again, “Spring! Spring!” He seems to cry,
Haunting the fall of the flute-throated rill,
That keeps a gentle, constant, silver thrill,
While he is restless in his ecstasy.

Ah! the soft budding of the virginal woods,

Of the frail fruit trees by the vanishing lakes:
There’s the new moon where the clear sunset floods,
A trace of dew upon the rose leaf sky;
And hark! what rapture the glad robin wakes-
“When Spring goes by; Spring! Spring! When
Spring goes by.”

***

«Written In Early Spring» by William Wordsworth

I heard a thousand blended notes
While in a grove I sat reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What Man has made of Man.

Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure –
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What Man has made of Man?

***

«Young Lambs» by John Clare

The spring is coming by a many signs;
The trays are up, the hedges broken down,
That fenced the haystack, and the remnant shines
Like some old antique fragment weathered brown.
And where suns peep, in every sheltered place,
The little early buttercups unfold
A glittering star or two–till many trace
The edges of the blackthorn clumps in gold.
And then a little lamb bolts up behind
The hill and wags his tail to meet the yoe,
And then another, sheltered from the wind,
Lies all his length as dead–and lets me go
Close bye and never stirs but baking lies,
With legs stretched out as though he could not rise. 

A Second Chance

God always wants the best for us,
But in Eden we sinned; we really blew it.
We disobeyed God’s direct decree;
We separated from Him, and we knew it.

You’d think we’d learn to behave ourselves,
But through all time, we just kept doing it;
Piling wrong on top of wrong,
Our punishment—we kept accruing it.

Jesus came and changed all that;
He paid the price for all our sins;
When we repent and believe in Him,
We change, and a better life begins.

Easter stands for a second chance
For us to choose to put things right;
If we repent, and really believe,
Our record is polished clean and bright.

When Jesus rose from the dead back then,
He guaranteed our eternal life,
Reunited with God in heaven,
Free from tears and fears and strife.

Easter ensures paradise
For all of us, for you and me;
We’re reconciled to our Lord and King
For now and all eternity.

By Joanna Fuchs

***

An Easter Canticle

In every trembling bud and bloom
That cleaves the earth, a flowery sword,
I see Thee come from out the tomb,
Thou risen Lord.

In every April wind that sings
Down lanes that make the heart rejoice;
Yea, in the word the wood-thrush brings,
I hear Thy voice.

Lo! every tulip is a cup
To hold Thy morning’s brimming wine;
Drink, O my soul, the wonder up—
Is it not Thine?

The great Lord God, invisible,
Hath roused to rapture the green grass;
Through sunlit mead and dew-drenched dell,
I see Him pass.

His old immortal glory wakes
The rushing streams and emerald hills;
His ancient trumpet softly shakes
The daffodils.

Thou art not dead! Thou art the whole
Of life that quickens in the sod;
Green April is Thy very soul,
Thou great Lord God.

By Charles Hanson Towne

***

An Easter Carol

Tomb, thou shalt not hold Him longer;
Death is strong, but Life is stronger,
Stronger than the dark, the light,
Stronger than the wrong, the right,
Faith and Hope triumphant say
Christ will rise on Easter Day.

While the patient earth lies waking
Till the morning shall be breaking,
Shuddering ‘neath the burden dread

of her Master, cold and dead —
Hark! she hears the Angels say
Christ will rise on Easter Day.

Up and down our lives obedient
Walk dear Christ, with footsteps radiant,
Till those garden lives shall be
Fair with duties done for Thee
And our thankful spirits say,
Christ arose on Easter Day.

And when sunrise smites the mountains,
Pouring light fom Heavenly fountains.
Then the earth blooms out to greet
Once again the blessed feet;
And her countless voices say
Christ has risen on Easter Day.

By Phillips Brooks

***

An Easter Flower Gift

O dearest bloom the seasons know,
Flowers of the Resurrection blow,
Our hope and faith restore;
And through the bitterness of death
And loss and sorrow, breathe and breath
Of life forevermore!

The thought of Love Immortal blends
With fond rememberances of friends;
In you, O sacred flowers,
By human love made doubly sweet,
The heavenly and the earthly meet,
The heart of Christ is ours!

By John Greenleaf Whittier

***

An Easter Memory

A little girl at Easter time
Is a beautiful sight to see,
Wearing a bonnet with frills upon it
And her face so bright with glee.
Such a pretty and excited little girl
As she gazes in curiosity and delight
At others wearing their Easter bonnets
And the white lilies they are holding tight.

A little girl is precious

As she struts about her way,
So much alertness and excitement
On this lovely Easter Day.
Not a basket left untouched,
Colored eggs and cellophane everywhere,
And her actions indicate happiness,
Not a single agitation or care.

A little girl is smiling
When at last her nightly prayers are said,

And she thinks of the Easter activities
While lying in her comfortable bed,
Aware of of her bonnet and chocolate bunnies
And the laden baskets trimmed so grand.
The memory she treasures of Easter
Is the white lily she held in her hand.

By Joseph T. Renaldi

***

An Easter Prayer

God, give us eyes to see
the beauty of the Spring,
And to behold Your majesty
in every living thing.

And may we see in lacy leaves
and every budding flower
The Hand that rules the universe
with gentleness and power.

And may this Easter grandeur
that Spring lavishly imparts
Awaken faded flowers of faith
Luing dormant in our hearts.

And give us ears to hear, dear God
the Springtime song of birds
With messages more meaningful
than man’s often empty words.

Telling harried human beings
who are lost in dark despair
‘Be like us and do not worry
for God has you in his care.’

By Helen Steiner Rice

***

Celebrate Our Savior

On Easter morn, we celebrate our Savior;
Whatever people seek in Him, they find.
In history, there has never been another
So holy, sacrificial, good and kind.

His resurrection makes us all immortal;
In heaven, we’ll be together with our King.
Eternally we’ll share in all His blessings;
Happy Easter! Jesus Christ is everything!

By Joanna Fuchs

***

Easter

Let every heart be filled with joy,
A joy of thankfulness to our Savior and King!
He is victorious over sin and death.
He conquered death to give us a new life.

A life blossoms through His unending love.
It is for a cause and without condition
The love that brings healing and reconciliation,
A pure love that creates in us real peace.

Peace that springs from his sacred heart,
A heart that bleeds for our affliction.
It is full of mercy and compassion,
A heart wounded for our sins and vainglory.

Rejoice! Jesus is truly risen from the dead
For us to live once again,
To live without blemish of pride,
And live a life unselfishly for others in need.

By Estela Canama

***

Easter

Most glorious Lord of Lyfe! that, on this day,
Didst make Thy triumph over death and sin;
And, having harrowd hell, didst bring away
Captivity thence captive, us to win:
This joyous day, deare Lord, with joy begin;
And grant that we, for whom thou diddest dye,
Being with Thy deare blood clene washt from sin,
May live for ever in felicity!

And that Thy love we weighing worthily,

May likewise love Thee for the same againe;
And for Thy sake, that all lyke deare didst buy,
With love may one another entertayne!
So let us love, deare Love, lyke as we ought,
–Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.

By Edmund Spenser

***

Easter

Rise, heart, thy lord is risen. Sing his praise
Without delays,
Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise
With him may’st rise:
That, as his death calcinèd thee to dust,
His life may make thee gold, and, much more, just.

Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part
With all thy art,
The cross taught all wood to resound his name

Who bore the same.
His stretchèd sinews taught all strings what key
Is best to celebrate this most high day.

Consort, both heart and lute, and twist a song
Pleasant and long;
Or, since all music is but three parts vied
And multiplied
Oh let thy blessèd Spirit bear a part,
And make up our defects with his sweet art.

By George Herbert

***

Easter

Lent gathers up her cloak of sombre shading
In her reluctant hands.
Her beauty heightens, fairest in its fading,
As pensively she stands
Awaiting Easter’s benediction falling,
Like silver stars at night,
Before she can obey the summons calling
Her to her upward flight,
Awaiting Easter’s wings that she must borrow
Ere she can hope to fly–

Those glorious wings that we shall see to-morrow
Against the far, blue sky.
Has not the purple of her vesture’s lining
Brought calm and rest to all?
Has her dark robe had naught of golden shining
Been naught but pleasure’s pall?
Who knows? Perhaps when to the world returning
In youth’s light joyousness,
We’ll wear some rarer jewels we found burning
In Lent’s black-bordered dress.

So hand in hand with fitful March she lingers
To beg the crowning grace
Of lifting with her pure and holy fingers
The veil from April’s face.
Sweet, rosy April–laughing, sighing, waiting
Until the gateway swings,
And she and Lent can kiss between the grating
Of Easter’s tissue wings.
Too brief the bliss–the parting comes with sorrow.
Good-bye dear Lent, good-bye!
We’ll watch your fading wings outlined to-morrow
Against the far blue sky.

By Emily Pauline Johnson

***

Easter

Easter Sunday, was always a day,
you’d never evade! For people
dressed, in their finery, just to go
to the Easter Parade. Strolling
down Fifth Avenue, was a sight
beyond compare! Women, in their
fancy clothes and hats, came from
everywhere. Each one, outdoing
one another, assuming what they
wore, was truly the best. Some men,

not to be overlooked, donned their
best clothes and wore a fancy vest.
Where else could you see such a
sight and get all of it for free? I’m
lucky, I was able to take part of
this, as there’s no place else, I’d
rather be!

By Audrey Heller

***

Easter

Bunnies and colored eggs.
Pastel shades,
And folks dressed for church.
Commemorating,
The resurrection of Jesus.
After his crucifixion.

Although this is not Christmas,
Also celebrated by christians.

It is on the Sunday…
Following the full moon next
After the vernal equinox,
Welcomes Spring to bloom at its best.

Falling between March 22nd,
And April 25th.
‘Eastre’ that Spring Goddess…
Brings a sense of joy,
And merriment with it!

By Lawrence S. Pertillar

***

Easter

Bring flowers to strew His way,
Yea, sing, make holiday;
Bid young lambs leap,
And earth laugh after sleep.

For now He cometh forth
Winter flies to the north,
Folds wings and cries
Amid the bergs and ice.

Yea, Death, great Death is dead,
And Life reigns in his stead;
Cometh the Athlete
New from dead Death’s defeat.

Cometh the Wrestler,
But Death he makes no stir,
Utterly spent and done,
And all his kingdom gone.

By Katharine Tynan

***

Easter

Rise, heart, thy lord is risen. Sing his praise
Without delays,
Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise
With him may’st rise:
That, as his death calcinиd thee to dust,
His life may make thee gold, and, much more, just.

Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part
With all thy art,
The cross taught all wood to resound his name
Who bore the same.
His stretchиd sinews taught all strings what key
Is best to celebrate this most high day.

Consort, both heart and lute, and twist a song
Pleasant and long;
Or, since all music is but three parts vied
And multiplied
Oh let thy blessиd Spirit bear a part,
And make up our defects with his sweet art.

By George Herbert

***

Easter At Spanish Cove

As always when a holiday is here
Food miraculously arrives
For Spanish Cove they have
Cooks where perfection thrives

Fresh, delicious and tasty
Tables set up with such style
Folks lined up to fill their plates
Food that satisfies for awhile

Lovely flowers graced the tables
And put everyone in the mood
For Easter dinner is special
Nowhere can you find better food

The color and freshness of fruit
Adorned the enormous salad bar
Looking very festive as well
And wanted to be the star

I hope you had a special Easter
Like the folks who love to rove
A delicious dinner like the ones
Who had Easter at Spanish Cove!

By Marilyn Lott

***

Easter Bunny

Here jumps a little bunny
Happy as can be,
Looking for his Easter eggs
Jumping right to me.
He’s sniffing for some eggs
How many will he find?
Around and around he goes
Kicking up his hinds.
He’s jumping up and down
He’s looking in the grass,

He is a happy bunny
He’s found one at last,
A smile is on his face
He knows Easter is a bliss,
He will not miss this day
As he jumps to give a kiss,
Right up to my face
He plants his little kiss,
So happy and so bouncy
This Easter he did not miss.

By Debra Pitts

***

Easter Bunny Thief

I have flat feet and a puffy tail
my name is bun bun, I’m a little frail.
I ate my carrots but that’s not enough,
I need some really good sweet stuff.
Off to walmart or the safeway store,
I’ll hide out and try to score.
humm humm good, I really should
jump in that cart, have a little fart.
Away goes Mrs. Curly Mae,
now I can have a chocolate bar today.

hipity hop, hipity hop,
I’ll take my chocolate bar to the street car stop.
I’m just a little bunny, it’s not Easter yet.
I’ll be ready with lot’s of candy,
so don’t you fret.

By Melvina Germain

***

Easter Candy…

Never buy Easter candy
Days before the designated date
Bags of sweets are too handy…
Lusciously tempting a salivating fate

Pastel egg shaped treats disappear
Marshmallow chicks vanish in a blink
Jellybeans evaporate as Easter nears
Chocolate bunnies become extinct

Baskets are filled with empty desire
Pleasurable expectations have fled
Another trip to the store is required
Before tears of disappointment are shed

By Theresa Ann Moore

***

Easter Communion

Pure fasted faces draw unto this feast:
God comes all sweetness to your Lenten lips.
You striped in secret with breath-taking whips,
Those crooked rough-scored chequers may be pieced
To crosses meant for Jesu’s; you whom the East
With draught of thin and pursuant cold so nips
Breathe Easter now; you serged fellowships,
You vigil-keepers with low flames decreased,

God shall o’er-brim the measures you have spent
With oil of gladness, for sackcloth and frieze
And the ever-fretting shirt of punishment
Give myrrhy-threaded golden folds of ease.
Your scarce-sheathed bones are weary of being bent:
Lo, God shall strengthen all the feeble knees.

By Gerard Manley Hopkins

***

Easter Day

The silver trumpets rang across the Dome:
The people knelt upon the ground with awe:
And borne upon the necks of men I saw,
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,
And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,
Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.
My heart stole back across wide wastes of years
To One who wandered by a lonely sea,

And sought in vain for any place of rest:
‘Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,
I, only I, must wander wearily,
And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.

By Oscar Wilde

***

Easter Eggs For The Homeless

When I’m feeling lost and bored
I contemplate Our Holy Lord
Who rose from the dead on Easter Day
Much to the Devil’s deep dismay!

I sit here in the street and beg –
No, not for me an Easter egg!
Food’s something that I can’t afford
And usually I am ignored.

I thought that Jesus loved the poor
But I don’t believe that anymore,
I think the whole thing is a hoax
When I curl up in my cardboard box.

Is there no justice in this life,
Just hunger, misery and strife?
Did Judas die from suicide?
He might have been wrong but at least he tried!

His silver coins would have helped the poor
And fed a mouth or two for sure,
Perhaps his tortured heart was pure –
Now that’s a thought you can’t endure!

By John Thorkild Ellison

***

Easter Gate

Jesus came to show us how
To live and love on earth, right now.
Then he died to erase our sin,
So the pearly gates would let us in.

Raised from death, Jesus is our guide
Through our own death to the other side.
Believe in Jesus, and you’ll be
Written in the book of eternity.

Easter means, in heaven, life,
Free from sadness, free from strife.
If your name is in God’s journal,
You’re assured of life eternal.

Easter Hymn

Make no mistake; there will be no forgiveness;
No voice can harm you and no hand will save;
Fenced by the magic of deliberate darkness
You walk on the sharp edges of the wave;

Trouble with soul again the putrefaction
Where Lazarus three days rotten lies content.
Your human tears will be the seed of faction
Murder the sequel to your sacrament.

The City of God is built like other cities:
Judas negotiates the loans you float;
You will meet Caiaphas upon committees;
You will be glad of Pilate’s casting vote.

Your truest lovers still the foolish virgins,
Your heart will sicken at the marriage feasts
Knowing they watch you from the darkened gardens
Being polite to your official guests.

By  Alec Derwent Hope

***

Easter Hymn

If in that Syrian garden, ages slain,
You sleep, and know not you are dead in vain,
Nor even in dreams behold how dark and bright
Ascends in smoke and fire by day and night
The hate you died to quench and could but fan,
Sleep well and see no morning, son of man.

But if, the grave rent and the stone rolled by,
At the right hand of majesty on high
You sit, and sitting so remember yet
Your tears, your agony and bloody sweat,
Your cross and passion and the life you gave,
Bow hither out of heaven and see and save.

By Alfred Edward Housman

***

Easter Joy

Jesus came to earth,
To show us how to live,
How to put others first,
How to love and how to give.

Then He set about His work,
That God sent Him to do;
He took our punishment on Himself;
He made us clean and new.

He could have saved Himself,
Calling angels from above,
But He chose to pay our price for sin;
He paid it out of love.

Our Lord died on Good Friday,
But the cross did not destroy
His resurrection on Easter morn
That fills our hearts with joy.

Now we know our earthly death,
Like His, is just a rest.
We’ll be forever with Him
In heaven, where life is best.

So we live our lives for Jesus,
Think of Him in all we do.
Thank you Savior; Thank you Lord.
Help us love like you!

By Joanna Fuchs

***

Easter Love

On Easter we celebrate love,
love coming down from heaven,
love blanketing the earth
in a transforming embrace;
unique and infinite love,
giving more than we can imagine
for us, to cleanse our sin,
a perfect sacrifice, Lamb of God,
the walking, talking Word.
He is teacher, role model, friend,
this God in human form,
dying, then rising from the dead,
proving all who believe
will also rise
to have eternal life, with Him,
Lord of all.
Oh, Happy, Happy Easter!

By Joanna Fuchs

***

Easter Marks Reunion

The Creator of the universe,
the King of Kings,
wanted communion,
wanted to bond
with those He had created;
but He had given them free will,
and they did not respond
to an unknowable God.

So He came to earth
in human form,
to teach, to be a role model.
A Holy God requires
a holy sacrifice for sin.
So God, in human form,
Jesus,
allowed His own sacrifice
for our sins,
so we could be reunited
with our Creator.

His resurrection proves
that we, also, will be resurrected
in Heaven, to mansions and wonders
our God has made for us.
Easter marks the resurrection.
That’s why Easter
is a Christian’s highest Holy Day.
Happy Easter!

By Joanna Fuchs

***

Easter Means Eternal Life

A perfect God demands a perfect justice;
He cannot let us get away with sin.
We used God’s gift of our free will to trespass,
So heaven’s gates were closed; we couldn’t get in.

Our sin required our blood, a sacrifice,
To atone for all the wrongs that we had done.
“But I love them!” cried our Father, filled with sorrow;
“I’ll send my only Son to be the one.”

Good Friday marks the slaying of our Jesus,
The unblemished lamb, the perfect sacrifice.
He took our guilt and blame upon Himself,
So we could be with Him in paradise.

On Easter morning, he came back from death;
He vanished from the tomb, the empty grave.
His resurrection means eternal life
For us, the ones he came to earth to save.

This summarizes all the Easter story
And because of it, we’ll be with Him in glory.

By Joanna Fuchs

***

Easter Monday

In the last letter that I had from France
You thanked me for the silver Easter egg
Which I had hidden in the box of apples
You like to munch beyond all other fruit.
You found the egg the Monday before Easter,
And said. ‘I will praise Easter Monday now –
It was such a lovely morning’. Then you spoke
Of the coming battle and said, ‘This is the eve.
‘Good-bye. And may I have a letter soon’.

That Easter Monday was a day for praise,
It was such a lovely morning. In our garden
We sowed our earliest seeds, and in the orchard
The apple-bud was ripe. It was the eve,
There are three letters that you will not get.

By Eleanor Farjeon

***

Easter Morning

My holy God your love so peaceful,
Brings to the earth at break of dawn,
Brings to the earth renewed forgiveness,
Brings to the earth thy holy light
Shine on the world this Easter morning,
Shine on the world thy holy light,
Bring to the world renewed forgiveness,
Dear lamb of God shine holy light.
River of light spring forth thy kindness,
River of mercy, hope, and joy,

Ever so gently flow thy mercy,
Peacefully flow thy love divine.

By Yolanda A. Seibert

***

Easter Parable

I have died a thousand deaths
And come back alive
A thousand times too
But, I never equated the betrayal
Leading to death and life again
To the Easter parable, till today
You opened a window and showed me

The warmth that remains
And revives me again
Each time to love and life
Is by the purging of self
Through the pyre of pain!

By Angelina Pandian

***

Easter Services

It is a yearly event we cherish
Getting together to honor Jesus
The day is planned carefully
For it is extremely important to us

A sermon created thoughtfully
Each word means so very much
The entire church is sparkling
With an extra sacred touch

The Easter flowers are just lovely
As though grown just for Him
And a day of true remembrance
As we sing our special hymns

Our Sunday school teacher honored
Who is there to help us through
Our trials and tribulations
And an understanding of the bible too

Afterward there are cookies and coffee
Much chatting and camaraderie
To value Jesus and each other every day
Brings tremendous peace and harmony!

By Marilyn Lott

***

Easter Song

I Got me flowers to straw Thy way,
I got me boughs off many a tree;
But Thou wast up by break of day,
And brought’st Thy sweets along with Thee.

The sunne arising in the East,
Though he give light, and th’ East perfume,
If they should offer to contest
With Thy arising, they presume.

Can there be any day but this,
Though many sunnes to shine endeavour?
We count three hundred, but we misse:
There is but one, and that one ever.

By George Herbert

***

Easter Week

See the land, her Easter keeping,
Rises as her Maker rose.
Seeds, so long in darkness sleeping,
Burst at last from winter snows.
Earth with heaven above rejoices;
Fields and gardens hail the spring;
Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices,
While the wild birds build and sing.

You, to whom your Maker granted

Powers to those sweet birds unknown,
Use the craft by God implanted;
Use the reason not your own.
Here, while heaven and earth rejoices,
Each his Easter tribute bring-
Work of fingers, chant of voices,
Like the birds who build and sing.

By Charles Kingsley

***

Easter Week

See the land, her Easter keeping,
Rises as her Maker rose.
Seeds, so long in darkness sleeping,
Burst at last from winter snows.
Earth with heaven above rejoices;
Fields and gardens hail the spring;
Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices,
While the wild birds build and sing.

You, to whom your Maker granted
Powers to those sweet birds unknown,
Use the craft by God implanted;
Use the reason not your own.
Here, while heaven and earth rejoices,
Each his Easter tribute bring-
Work of fingers, chant of voices,
Like the birds who build and sing.

By Charles Kingsley

***

Easter Wings

Lord, Who createdst man in wealth and store,
Though foolishly he lost the same,
Decaying more and more,
Till he became
Most poore:

With Thee
O let me rise,
As larks, harmoniously,
And sing this day Thy victories:

Then shall the fall further the flight in me.

My tender age in sorrow did beginne;
And still with sicknesses and shame
Thou didst so punish sinne,
That I became
Most thinne.

With Thee
Let me combine,

And feel this day Thy victorie;
For, if I imp my wing on Thine,
Affliction shall advance the flight in me.

By George Herbert

***

Easter Zunday

Last Easter Jim put on his blue
Frock cwoat, the vu’st time-vier new;
Wi’ yollow buttons all o’ brass,
That glitter’d in the zun lik’ glass;
An’ pok’d ‘ithin the button-hole
A tutty he’d a-begg’d or stole.
A span-new wes-co’t, too, he wore,
Wi’ yellow stripes all down avore;
An’ tied his breeches’ lags below
The knee, wi’ ribbon in a bow;
An’ drow’d his kitty-boots azide,
An’ put his laggens on, an’ tied
His shoes wi’ strings two vingers wide,
Because ‘twer Easter Zunday.

An’ after mornen church wer out
He come back hwome, an’ stroll’d about
All down the vields, an’ drough the leane,
Wi’ sister Kit an’ cousin Jeane,
A-turnen proudly to their view
His yollow breast an’ back o’ blue.
The lambs did play, the grounds wer green,
The trees did bud, the zun did sheen;
The lark did zing below the sky,
An’ roads wer all a-blown so dry,
As if the zummer wer begun;
An’ he had sich a bit o’ fun!
He meade the maidens squeal an’ run,
Because ‘twer Easter Zunday.

By Ingeborg Bachmann

***

Easter!

Now it’s the time of the year again
When Easter is making its coming plain
Whether its date was right or wrong
Upon a tree the Saviour was hanged
A place which He was never belonged
Its Christ crucifixion that brings us Easter

Though He died of much agony and pain

Christ’s death to save us was never in vain
Evil might’ve thought it was making gain
Not knowing Jesus’ death was to save life
That was suffering losses from evil’s strife
Christ crucifixion brings to the world Easter

Like a humble lamb Jesus went to the cross
Where by His shed blood sin was outclassed
And made human’s death by sin to be tossed
Only by what had been done at Calvary’s Cross

Man’s life had been redeemed Jesus paid the cost
Christ crucifixion is allowing us to celebrate Easter

Now there is no need for anyone’s soul to be lost
Since Jesus Christ took the task and gave sin a blast
We all can clap our hands and jump, dance and prance
Through the great Saviour who gave us a second chance
Sin had lost by the blood of Christ now we can all dance.
By Christ crucifixion we are allowed to celebrate Easter.

By Clarence Prince

***

Easter’s Past

Sitting in Church
Listening to sermons
With white patent leather shoes
A fancy dress and little white gloves
With a new purse,
My brothers all dressed
In nice shirts and pants,
My mom dressed up like a movie star
With her beautiful dress and hat,
My step dad who never cared for church

He even dressed up for the day.

And in our pockets
Were chocolate eggs and jelly beans
We were told not to take to church
But we couldn’t help it.
I would peek at my brothers
Sneaking candy out of their pockets
And when mom wasn’t looking
I would sneak some out of my purse,

And slowly let the chocolate egg
Dissolve in my mouth
I couldn’t let her see me chewing
Not in church!

We would come home
Have an egg hunt
That we enjoyed so much
That we all would hide the eggs again
Ourselves
Then we had a nice big Easter dinner
Maybe even play monopoly
While eating more Easter candy.

I know the holiday was about Jesus
Being resurrected
I had spent many years
In classes learning these things
But somehow Easter
Just reminds me more of
Family togetherness and love
And visits from the Easter Bunny
And I don’t think Jesus would mind that at all.

By Connie Webb

***

Every Sunday’s A Little Easter

Every Sunday to me is Easter,
Don’t need it to roll around but once a year to see,
For I look forward to Christ’s Resurrection,
And what He gave on a cross at Calvary.

Don’t need to see the cross before me,
Or see the stone that was rolled aside.
For Christ lives within each of us,
If only we’d only allow Jesus to come inside.

To warm our hearts… to quench our thirst,
To bring us joy that no man could ever do.
To be all that He is and will ever be,
To shine His glorious love through and through!

So put on your best bib and tucker this Sunday,
And every Sunday thereafter and on,
For little Easter’s come each Sunday,
For all of God’s children everlasting to feast upon.

By Linda Winchell

***

Freedom In The Cross

There’s something that occurred
on that evening at Calvary
that created such a lavish stir
in all of history.

Upon that old rugged cross
our Savior bared it all
and offered himself a sacrifice
to overspread humanity’s fall.

The sacred blood that was spilled
wiped clean the sinner’s slate.
Christ paid the price for everyone
and carried our weight.

A willing heart endured the pain,
and purpose paved His way.
He opened the eyes of every man
To whom He came to save.

Though the tragedy of that day
will be mourned by those around,
our joy is found three days later
when He arose from the very ground.

And through that selfless act of love,
we were given new life in Him,
set loose from our bondages
to experience true freedom within.

By Olivia Lakis

***

He Did It For Me

It was for me Christ Jesus died.
So that I could live, He was crucified.
Jesus was innocent, he knew no sin.
But yet He died for sinful men.

It was for me Jesus paid the price.
He became the ultimate sacrifice.
Oh, the depth of the love of one.
Who would offer up his only son?

It was for love God gave His all
to restore mankind after the fall.
The debt was huge and the price high,
therefore an innocent man had to die.

God could find no one else to qualify
to pay the awful debt for you and I.
Because sin was found in one and all,
only Jesus could answer the call.

So out of His endless love for man
God unfolded His perfect plan.
Jesus said, “I’ll give my life for man.”
And God said, “I’ll raise you up again.”

And through the death of Jesus Christ
we all have access to eternal life.
From east to west, in all directions,
we give thanks for the resurrection.

By Lenora McWhorter

***

I Am The Easter Bunny

I am the Easter Bunny,
I really do exist,
And if you think that’s funny,
I’ll smash you with my fist.

I am the Easter Bunny,
And I come around in Spring,
When it gets warm and sunny,
And the birds begin to sing.

I am the Easter Bunny,
And I loath those little birds,
With eggs so gross and runny,
I hate them beyond words.

I am the Easter Bunny,
And I have a habit strange,
I like to take those slimy eggs,
And boil them on my range.

I am the Easter Bunny,
But I’m an herbivore,
So I take those crummy hard-boiled eggs,
And leave them at your door.

By Richard Dates

***

Just Prayers

No colored eggs
Or bunnies here,
Just deep-felt love
For Christ, so dear.

No easter baskets
Full of fluff,
No jelly beans
And other stuff.

No superior looks,
No strife, no fights
With those who keep
The worldly rites.

No condemnation
For those who do,
Just prayers for them
To love Him, too.

By Joanna Fuchs

***

Love To The Fullest

Love to the fullest once roamed our earth.
He arrived here by means of a heavenly birth.

From the very beginning most everyone knew
there was something so special this child would do.

As time would prevail He became a man,
teaching us love from God’s own hand.

Though to some He knew He would be such a dread.
They never could rest until He was dead!

He knew His own fate from beginning to end.
He knew and still loved His betraying friend.

He carried His cross using His own two feet
to die for our sins and our total defeat.

Why did He do it? No reason but love!
He wanted to help us to heaven above.

Who was this man with such merciful love?
None other than Jesus, our Savior above!

By Patricia L. Cisco 

***

Meaning

When Jesus came on the scene
He came in a way that was humble
Here on earth
He never mumbled nor grumbled

Man shed innocent blood
When Jesus died on the cross
They thought they were above God
In the end they found out who was boss

Easter is a day set aside
For Christ’s death, burial and resurrection
If in your life you’re not living right
This is the time to make corrections

Easter shouldn’t be celebrated
With nice clothes and beautiful hats
God’s death, burial and resurrection
Has nothing to do with that

Jesus bore the cross
Heading for Calvary
Through God’s love
Allowed us to be free

He was put in His tomb
And on the 3rd day He got out
So I could capture salvation
And for this reason I can jump and shout

Now when I think of Easter
I don’t think of material things
I use it as a reminder
Of the joy it brings.

By Michael A Burke Sr

***

No Second Chance

If there was no resurrection,
there would be no hope for mankind.
We would have no second chance
and no peace of mind.

The love of God is clearly seen
in the sacrifice of His Son,
who took our punishment and our sin
and offered redemption for everyone.

Had not Jesus died on the cross,
had His life not been sacrificed,
there would be no forgiveness of sin
and there would be no eternal life.

Jesus did no wrong and knew no sin.
But for love’s sake He died…
so our sin debt could be paid in full.
He gave Himself to be crucified.

The good news of salvation
comes to us by the way of the cross.
God raised up Jesus from the dead
so that no man need be lost.

Oh, what love the Father has for us,
shown by the gift He freely gave.
So that we could have a second chance.
God raised Jesus from the grave.

By Lenora McWhorter

***

On Easter Day

The silver trumpets rang across the Dome:
The people knelt upon the ground with awe:
And borne upon the necks of men I saw,
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,
And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,
Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:
In splendor and in light the Pope passed home.
My heart stole back across wide wastes of years
To One who wandered by a lonely sea,

And sought in vain for any place of rest:
“Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,
I, only I, must wander wearily,
And bruise My feet, and drink wine salt with tears.”

By Oscar Wilde

***

Rejoice, Rejoice!

“Rejoice, Rejoice! ” “For Jesus has risen from the grave! ”
His Father placed Him in the womb of a virgin
Then His life for us on a cross one day He gave.

His Father said that He would rise up
Then, in three days ascend, unto His Father’s home.
He is not where you now look for Him
He has rolled away the tombs, heavy stone.

While Mary was in the garden’s yard

She had seen Jesus walking there.
While others were in such deep sorrow of loss
As the King’s guards on watch, slept un-aware.

“The King of man has risen! ”
He did the job that was meant for humanity to do.
He died upon a cross at, ”Calvary”
He seen that His mission was complete
And He did this all for me and you.

So if you too seek after Him
You needn’t go to the tomb to see.
Just kneel down before the cross in prayer
Asking God’s forgiveness
Where He now, can always live inside of thee.

By Linda Winchell

***

Resurrection

Ridiculed and mocked, nailed to a cross.
Each of his followers mourning his loss.
Set down from on high, placed in a cave.
Unmovable stone in front of his grave.
Roman soldiers guarded the solemn room,
Rejecting attempts to enter the tomb.
Entrance sealed so no one could steal
Christ’s body, which had a great appeal.
Then on the third day, Mary could not believe
Inside the cave – no body to grieve.
On Sunday he was seen it was said.
Now God had raised His son from the dead.

By Eric R. Harvey

***

The Easter Bunny Hop

Hippity hop, hippity hop
The Easter Bunny does not stop
Hippity hop, hippity hop
The Easter Bunny does his crazy bop
The Easter Bunny’s ears do flop when he goes….
Hippity hop, hippity hop
So come on
Come on and join on in today
As the Easter Bunny goes
Hippity hop, hippity hop

All along The Bunny Trail
To bring a smile to…..
All the faces of the children of tomorrow’s future

By Ramona Thompson

***

The Easter Decorations

O take away your dried and painted garlands!
The snow-cloth’s fallen from each quicken’d brow,
The stone’s rolled off the sepulchre of winter,
And risen leaves and flowers are wanted now.

Send out the little ones, that they may gather
With their pure hands the firstlings of the birth,—
Green-golden tufts and delicate half-blown blossoms,
Sweet with the fragrance of the Easter earth;

Great primrose bunches, with soft, damp moss clinging
To their brown fibres, nursed in hazel roots;
And violets from the shady banks and copses,
And wood-anemones, and white hawthorn shoots;

And tender curling fronds of fern, and grasses
And crumpled leaves from brink of babbling rills,
With cottage-garden treasures—pale narcissi
And lilac plumes and yellow daffodils.

Open the doors, and let the Easter sunshine
Flow warmly in and out, in amber waves,
And let the perfume floating round our altar
Meet the new perfume from the outer graves.

And let the Easter “Alleluia!” mingle
With the sweet silver rain-notes of the lark;
Let us all sing together!—Lent is over,
Captivity and winter, death and dark

By Ada Cambridge

***

The Easter Flower

Far from this foreign Easter damp and chilly
My soul steals to a pear-shaped plot of ground,
Where gleamed the lilac-tinted Easter lily
Soft-scented in the air for yards around;

Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;

And many thought it was a sacred sign,
And some called it the resurrection flower;
And I, a pagan, worshiped at its shrine,
Yielding my heart unto its perfumed power.

By Claude McKay

***

The Easter Story

esus came to compensate
For all the wrongs we do.
He came to earth to die for us,
So we’d be born anew.

“This bitter cup, let it pass from me,”
He cried, in a plaintive voice;
“Yet not My will, but Thine be done;”
He said, in His faithful choice.

The Judas kiss would seal his fate;
He faced a hostile crowd;
The governor, Pilate, saw through it all;
Jesus’ guilt he disavowed.

“I wash my hands of all of this,”
Said Pilate, “Let Him be.”
But the crowd yelled “Crucify him now,
And set Barabbas free!”

Pilate yielded to their wish;
And Jesus was led away.
The soldiers beat him, and mocked Him, too,
Yet He continued to obey.

A crown of thorns lay on His head,
As His sentence was carried out;
His hands and feet were pierced with nails,
But He did not scream or shout.

“Father, forgive them for this crime;
They know not what they do.”
He said this despite His torment, because,
He was thinking of me and you.

“It is finished,” he sighed in His anguish and pain,
As His body gave up to death.
The curtain tore, and darkness fell,
After He took His last breath.

The best of the story is the very last part;
It’s why on Easter we’re filled with pleasure:
Death could not our Savior hold;
His power is beyond all measure.

He rose from the grave, and was seen all around;
Ever since, He’s inspired devotion,
And we’ll be with Him for eternity,
When we get our heavenly promotion.

That’s why Easter is a major event:
He suffered and died in our place.
He rose and forgave us and loves us still,
Our Savior of matchless grace.

By Joanna Fuchs

***

The First Easter

Dead they left Him in the tomb
And the impenetrable gloom,
Rolled the great stone to the door,
Dead, they thought, forevermore.

Then came Mary Magdalene
Weeping to that bitter scene,
And she found, to her dismay,
That the stone was rolled away.

Cometh Peter then and John,
Him they’d loved to look upon,
And they found His linen there
Left within the sepulcher.

‘They have taken Him away!’
Mary cried that Easter Day.
Low, she heard a voice behind:
‘Whom is it you seek to find?’

‘Tell me where He is!’ she cried,
‘Him they scourged and crucified.
Here we left Him with the dead!’
‘Mary! Mary!’ Jesus said.

So by Mary Magdalene
First the risen Christ was seen,
And from every heart that day
Doubt’s great stone was rolled away.

By Edgar Albert Guest

***

The Meaning Of Easter

I was heading down the road of destruction,
I mean the path was so clear, there was no obstruction
But on that faithful day,
Jesus stepped in the way
and for this me say: YAY!

Now Jesus, he ain’t just any speed bump,
The wall; him so big, me nah even try jump!
Lived, died and rose-His Father’s will he chose.

My friend, now salvation he gives
Repent my and accept it!
Save you and me from the fiery pit
On himself he lovingly took it
Down in hell he took the key
Doing it all for me!
And now I choose him, and I’m no longer heading to destruction
For with the life he lived, he laid down some construction

The man had no shame

Yet on cavalry, he took my blame
Now me just call his name
And like Clorox
He washes away my stains!
So now I’m no longer heading down the road of destruction

My God so good
In his word, I got my food:
His son he gave,
So that I can be saved
Plus, The Holy Spirit:
Holding my hands
Leading me away from the fiery pit
So now,
I’m no longer heading down the road of destruction
I just believe and Jesus became my obstruction!

By Leslie Alexis

***

The Reason We Celebrate Easter

We celebrate the resurrection
and hail the risen Christ.
We kneel before the rugged cross
where Jesus gave His life.

We lift our hands in total praise
and give thanks to God above
for the great sacrifice He made
to declare His unfailing love.

If we look back to Calvary
where Jesus was crucified,
we can see His nail-pierced hands
and the wounds in His side.

We marvel at Christ’s suffering
and give thanks for His sacrifice
’cause it was for us that Jesus died
so we could have eternal life.

But God raised Jesus from the dead!
And with gratitude we can say,
“Our sin debt has been paid in full,”
so we celebrate Resurrection Day!

By Lenora McWhorter

***

This Life on Earth

Easter means that this life on earth
is not all there is.
Jesus went “to prepare a place for us”
in His Father’s heavenly mansions
for all eternity.
Jesus died for our sins,
paying our penalty,
so that we could be forgiven.
He was resurrected, to prove
that death has no hold
on those who repent
and accept Him as Savior.
This life on earth is a prelude
to eternal joy with our Lord.
Easter is a celebration
of our eternal destiny.

By Joanna Fuchs

***

Thoughts Of Easter

I awoke before dawn this Easter morn,
Laid very still and just thought,
Not of the eggs and bunnies that Easter brings,
But of the gift of life that it brought,
I thought of that cross he carried,
That crown of thorns on his head,
The nails into his body they buried,
Betrayed by even those that he led,
Up that road to Calvary,
Totally sinless too,
Jesus paid the ultimate out of love,
He died for me, for you,
Love keeps no records of right or wrong,
Love doesn’t keep a score,
To our Father in heaven we all belong,
Just as on that day long before,
I looked in the room at my sleeping sons,
Tears slipped from my eyes,
God had done more than I could have done,
To just watch as my son suffered and died,
My Easter held such meaning then,
As I watched the dawn breaking through,
Just thinking of that day so long ago,
When God did what I could not do.

By Deborah Wininger

***

Three Years And Twelve Friends

We’ve been given the greatest gift,
The most precious, wonderful promise ever made.
It’s about the resurrection.
This truth will never fade.

His gift is for all eternity,
Not just a moment in time.
He’s given us a mind-boggling gift.
He was innocent of His crime.

Released from the burden of our sin,
The veil was torn to free.
A promise delivered as the prophecies told.
The ancient ones could see.

Nothing can separate,
No man-made intervention.
We are saved from our mortal sin
By the power of the resurrection.

He came and walked with us
With twelve friends he taught and prayed.
Three years of dedicated ministry,
In His blood our debt is paid.
Amen

By Raelene J. Elliss

***

To All Who Love Him

O God of the Universe,
you shed your glory, your majesty,
your omnipotence
to become human, as Jesus Christ–
to get close to us, to connect with us,
to be our role model and guide for living.
O God of the Universe,
you became the human Jesus Christ,
to know us, to feel all we feel,
to show us how much you love us
by taking within yourself all our sins.
O God of the Universe,
you felt not just one person’s pain
but the pain of all of us,
to wash us clean and bond with us,
your creation, your children.
O God of the Universe,
you proved your trancendent holy power
by rising from the dead,
a sign that all of us who believe in You
will also rise to be with You eternally.
The resurrection of Jesus Christ
is the “Happy” in “Happy Easter.”
Happy Easter to all those who love Him.

By Joanna Fuchs

***

Who Won

From Friday’s tragedy and terror to Sunday’s redeeming cry,
The world has discovered that Christ is real, with evidence man can’t deny.
Truly He’s risen, just as He promised, sitting at God’s right hand;
We have the privilege of calling Him Saviour if we obey His command.

But oh, so costly was this venture, it brought such agony and pain,
Hatred filled the hearts of leaders; somehow their laws they must maintain.
If He won the crowd’s devotion, if they followed in His train,
They would lose prestige and power, they could would not allow His gain!

Make an example of this rebel, the arm of the law must rule supreme;
This young intruder’s no exception, we’ll end this young man’s crazy scheme.
But death will never be the ruler – God had initiated a plan,
Created after the downfall of Adam, Satan must never have rule over man!

Christ gives us choices, we have an option; sin’s penalty paid that we might go free,
God is the author, Christ the Redeemer, nothing can change this eternal decree.
Pharisees tried, thought they had killed Him, yet Jesus rose triumphantly.
He is still Ruler, fully in power, great interceder for you and for me.

By Greta Zwaan

Without Easter

Without Easter,
there would be no hope of heaven.
Without the hope of heaven,
there would be no repentance,
no personal transformation,
no attempt to follow biblical principles.
Without Easter,
the world would be in chaos
and darkness.
Jesus’ death and resurrection
means we can be reborn,
to live better, to do better,
to shine light into the shadows.
Hallelujah!
Happy, Happy Easter.

By Joanna Fuchs

***