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Couplet Work Poems | Couplet Poems About Work

These Couplet Work poems are examples of Couplet poems about Work. These are the best examples of Couplet Work poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet | |

Barefoot Boy, with a Fishing Pole.

 A man I am and near my end.
I have other men to call me friend.

And women round me for the lust
And four leaf clover for the luck.

Beer or buttermilk to drink
And time I have to sit and think.

I have meadows which to mow
And I have crops which to sow.

I have men that call me sir.
I have work to be concerned.

I have obligations piled.
Work to do from mile to mile.

I'd trade it all, to be, you know
A barefoot boy, with a fishing pole.

To rest in the shade by a river bed
Soft grass to lay my youthful head.

Fish and skip stones on waters calm
And sleep out all night -when it's warm.

To unravel natures mystery there
Why the turtle wears a shell?

How the Oriole's nest is hung?
How the frog's croak is sung?

Why the Blue-Bell does not ring?
Why the hornet likes to sting?

My work keeps me shod like a mule
Only in dreams, youthful things I do.

When work here ends, to Heaven I go
To be a barefoot boy, with a fishing pole.

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2012 resolution Vol 3

Another fresh year is here, I would love to banish from my life, worry doubt & fear. I would like to be joyous, true and live life each moment with zest, and give the people around me nothing but the best. I would love to talk, communicate and break mental barriers that are creations, and work hard towards mending broken relations. I would love to tell my wife to give me all her tears and fear, and take from me all my love the loving words she likes from me to hear. I would love to make an effort to be a good friend, to my elder daughter and put all petty misunderstandings to an end. I would love to stop to the people in contact ,the shoving, and spend more time in loving. I would love to stop being disadvantageous and outrageous, and speak only the truth and for that be courageous. I would love to fight my emotions all unfriendly, and cover them all with feelings that are friendly. I would love to learn to be sensitive, and towards others be open and receptive. I would love to practice not to crib about all the things life has not given me, and be greatful for the great things around me I have an opportunity to feel and see. I would love to learn to be content about all I have received, and focus now on giving and helping those, whom life has deceived. I would love to pray for world peace and plant more trees, and work to help out for carbon emission decrease. I would love to learn to be unforgiving, and be more tolerant and caring. I would love to right some of my wrongs, and be true to myself and hum joyous songs. Finally, I would love to learn to be humble and full of gratitude, and to do so spend some precious moments of my day reflecting in solitude.

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If I Were To Work a Miracle

If I were to work a miracle I know what it would be
In selfish quest I'd ask to grow in someone's company

Then we could prosper sharing precious moments in life
If I could have the same children, I'd pray she would be my wife

I would treasure the ground she walks on, in joyous harmony
For before I requested this miracle, she opened my eyes to see

Many things we share, architecture and music are two
There's history and geography, she says binds me and you

But it's the music that cements us, especially with Queen
If I were to work a miracle, then this would be my dream

Details | Couplet | |


Out past the meadow on the hill up high 
Two young lovers on the fourth of July 

Blanket spread out on top of the ground 
Watching the town folk gather around 

Kids run around with sparklers ablaze 
The high school marching band plays. 

The smell of cotton candy fills the air. 
The excitement is growing at the county fair. 

Out of the way up high on that hill 
Was two young lovers one named Jack, one Jill 

The crowd is buzzing as the sun goes low 
Waiting for the mighty fireworks show 

Jack looks at Jill with love in his eyes 
In anticipation of the show in the skies 

Jill puts her head upon Jack's soft lap 
Gazing and wanting the night to unwrap 

The first firework streams into the air, 
As a glittering tail follows it there. 

A crackle and a boom it erupts in the sky 
Watching with awe as the following fireworks fly. 

Jack says to Jill, Oh how I love you so 
You give me fireworks dontcha know 

Jill smiles sweetly and gives him a kiss
This firework show she doesn't want to miss

Details | Couplet | |

not the SOUP!!

    Its not the  SOUP,

I wake up bright and early like the sun
Sleeping real late at night before the a.m. dawn.

With a few hours of sleep
I still find my self counting sheep.

Drink my coffee before I leave
Find my self in a zone not even I believe.

I kick the neighbors  dog real far
Tired of him barking at me before I get into my car.

Turning my radio on real loud.
Only when I hear a song that will makes me proud.

I never arrive at work real late.
I have to be responsible in the job I hate

The owner opens the door and finds me asleep.
I tell him get out of my face you stupid creep.

He tells me I am lucky he can not work alone.
Why do I insist of not waking him before I leave our home.

He also said he wishes he could fire me.
Instead to leave the soup at night I have to agree.

As soon as I log out of the Poetry Soup I tell him when I'm done . 
When he goes to bed I still find myself roaming the Internet for fun :)

Kissing me goodnight, he ask me if I could give him some.
I say just one more comment hun,  I'm  almost done.

By 4:00 am I am still on the Soup.
He wakes up to a no surprise
Yelling at me he grabs my laptop and than he........

--for GARETH JAMES contest--leave me hanging--

                     S.K.A.T. POETRY

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The Wise Ones will Rise

People who are kind and wise
their success will surely rise

Details | Couplet | |

Patriotic Retirement Plan

Giving billions of pounds to banks that just squander
Sharing bonuses and gifts, as they internally launder

To Mr Cameron, an alleged Prime Minister for the people
You work for us, do your job right, climb our steeple

Currently in our workforce, there are ten million or more
Aged over fifty, by the score, by the score

Pay them all a million, let's call it severance pay
Retire them early, ten million jobs now in play

With their monies they must buy, a brand new fancy car
Ten million cars ordered, a motor industry to travel far

A house they must buy, or a mortgage to pay off
A dying housing crisis sorted, no builders will scoff

To their kids who have become idle, youthful travesty
No excuses now, to schools, college or universities

So many kids will be removed, no hanging about our streets
Education being their answer, crime fixed, the ultimate treat

Buying fuel for their new cars, purchasing a few bottles of wine
Their taxes and expenditure, will leave the economy fine

What the tax payer has laid out, as they internally launder
Whom we have voted in, do your job, we'll grow fonder

Adapted from an email I received at work today.

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Pitching in

Near a house by the lake
on a dock by the shore,
a young lad would fish
for his family now poor.

He goes to the golf course
and wade's the cold lake,
to find the lost golf balls
then sell off his take.

He'll shovel your driveway
when snow's finally here,
and clean out your gutters
when rain's finally near.

He'll mow all the lawns
he can fit in a day,
he's seen on some farms
when their taking in hay.

And when night time comes
and he kneels by his bed,
he thanks God for work
while bowing his head.

He prays that our troops
will win these new wars,
then his two brothers
can help with the chores.

We all need his outlook
when money gets thin,
he's out there trying
he's out there to win.

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The Library Man

How often do you visit the Library? And what do you see?
I see oceans and seas of books plus a homeless man doing zzz’s..
He’d apparently been reading before, he fell deep asleep.
He can stay there, they say, as long as he doesn’t lie down to sleep.
Sitting up is OK and of course, as long as he doesn’t create a scene.

He’s kind and gracious and a little strange but can debate any role
When he walked over, we had a talk about the devil verses mind control.
Without asking, what he really wanted was someone to buy him lunch.
There’s a McDonalds two doors down from where we were bunched.
I don’t know what I expected when he woke up and looked around.

But when I asked if he was homeless he wasn’t fazed at all.
Yes, I have been for a while, he said, but my boat will soon come in.
And I realized the library is a warm, safe place to relax and to be.
And the librarians seem content to just let him be.
In the end, I was sorry I couldn’t buy him that lunch.

But recently, my abilities to do so had become a little stretched.
I used to buy the books I read… now the library is more my taste.
I just hope if it comes to that… he’ll graciously share this place.
The library even has computers from where you could write.
And the people there are varied and really rather kind.

I’m on the edge but whole family’s once prosperous are already there.
Cheap hotel rooms in even cheaper hotels, once skirted are full.
The jobs don’t pay for anything more. They are: Bitter, Disgruntled, Lost.
Needed are better and more jobs to re-establish the American Dream.
To give them some hope so they can go back there again…
And don’t just act toward them… like they’re your library man…
Give them back their American Dream as best you can.

Voice of Reason Contest

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The best job

Your own successful biz,
that's what your best job is!

Volodymyr Knyr

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Occupy's Struggle

Still angry from revolutions long past
Greed wondered how long it would last

The occupy people have been asleep
Their eyes closed not making a peep

Now awaken they look at privation
Asking what's happen to their nation

Progress was not suppose to add more
For all of those who are money's whore

The plan was suppose to provide enough
For those struggling in life finding it tough

Wondering if it's too late to escape their fate
Revolution or Armageddon may be on the plate

Now for occupy to really develop and grow
They will need to find new ways not to owe

Edward J Ebbs - 11/06/11

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Grandmas Phrase About Work

If you don't go with the flow,
Then they will kick you,
Out the do'.
If you work like you get no pay,
No one to you will say Hey.

If you work at your job,
As if you work for the Lord,
Even when others make it hard
In front of them you'll get
A huge reward
And they'll look like retards.

So when you punch 
Your time card
Say thank You Lord
I could have been
Someone else.

When it's time for lunch
Say thank You Lord
Once more even if
Satan knocked at your do
Because he didn't munch
On your wealth.

Wrote 11-15-10

Details | Couplet | |

A Pill Of Life

A Pill Of Life

A dream , a secret wish takes me for a groovy-ride
to be strong and tough and not the baby -cry. 

I muse up on Popeye ,the macho sailor man
envy him for that leaves he had in a simple can

handy that he kept, to puff his muscles out
when swallowed a tuft of spinach in to his gout. 

spinach would mess me up at work and play
so, I would rather 'pill ' em  up in a pop- down pill

boss or boys, creed does not matter 
pill must work well with all in a batter

one for the boy, 2 for the howling lady,
3 for the boss ,so it goes ; keep more for the bawdy

Pills to tough me up to deal with the deceptive and dowdy ones
to live a kingly life and dust happy hands off their pokes and puns 

For Russell Sivey's contest- Pill Of Life. 

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Reply Email From Subby Conscience

(Gail's note: This is the sequel to the Email to Subby Conscience poem.)

From: Subby Conscience
Re: Communication between You and Me
Date: February 14, 2012

While I sneak  and scheme in your chaotic REM
I am doing nothing more than being a friend.

Those dream-swirls and ‘mare-tugs purge your mind’s eye
so that your psyche can grow and won’t suddenly die.

While you’re gripping tightly to antique feelings that won’t budge
I’m prying them out; giving them a strong nudge.

And as you grudgingly work through a feeling or two
I am working my hardest to make you feel what is true.

I even may help you work out a solution or two
Because during the day you are too busy to.

Who else provides perks that allow you to be
both young and old in the very same dream?

So tell me dear, and answer me this.
What would you do if many nights I missed

And was sneaking around in another soul’s REM
What would your sanity be like then?

Without my help to work out thoughts
That keep you quite sane…

Would you then turn around
And try to cast blame?

Saying Subby’s absence caused you to act like a drip?
Saying Subby’s absence caused your tongue to Freudian slip?
Instead your mind can skyrocket and cozily soar
After I recede in the A.M. and work behind your mind’s door.

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I thought that this would be an interesting topic to write
As some thoughts about this year's awesome events came to light.

Recalling the year's events made me pause
Yet several "awesome" events gave me cause.

In thinking about one particular thing I would say
That finding Poetry Soup has made my day.

Not ever knowing how addictive it can be
To write my thoughts in words for others to see.

And then there are the friends I have found here
Who's poetry sometime will bring me a tear.

Oh, I laugh at some, cry with some, even get quizzical 
But it only makes my fingers want to get physical.

My brain starts to ache as I work up a lather
Typing words into rhyme as fast as I can gather.

Yes, it is a gem of a site that I see
But the real gems are the others who write poetry.

Their words are more elegant than mine
And I often wonder how they come to them sometime.

When I read their work it is more than a cure
They express the thoughts which are ever so pure.

Like distilling fine cognac from its brandy base
The words that I read all fall into place.

So it makes me want to make my own work better
And to them I have become a debtor.

For the words I write come from inspiration
And some of the contests exact great consternation.

You see, I don't know an Iambic from a Pentameter
But, that's what makes me want to try harder.

So I write words in ways that I think are good
Hoping that my thoughts can be understood.

Many a comment passes the site each day
All, to me, are special when sent my way.

I appreciate the thoughts of others who will take the time
To read the words I have tried to rhyme.

So in looking for something happy that happened this year
This "Awesome" site makes me want to cheer.

Poetry Soup may not give you the zing,
But then, next to's the next best thing!


Details | Couplet | |

''Would You Like To Buy A Bag'' - plastic

~~~~   "Would You Like To Buy A Bag ? "  ~~~~

Two years ago, to the day
If you needed a bag , you must pay.

A nickle a bag we did charge
Whether its small, whether its large.

The customers were incredulous.
Some were sullen, some caused a fuss.

Some threw things, some would curse,
Some would stuff everything in their purse.

Some loaded their purchases to their chin
As if it were a battle they must win.

You'd think we were crazy, out of our head
Suggesting they use cloth bags instead.

It's been two years, we still hear them say
"Me? for a bag?, that'll be the day"

The landfills and oceans have plastic galore
And courtesy of us, they'll  keep getting more.

for Susan Burch's contest "Paper or Plastic"
my theme - plastic

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There is no comfort in the dark
So look to the sky and wait for a spark

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Premier Amama

Daily wakes in the cold darkness
wears spectacles and looks at Uganda in sadness
All the lazy Ugandans criticize him; madness!
Insane crazy they are,
him the hardworking they paint corruption
in wisdom he laughs them off
higher and higher like a rocket he takes off
I got my land on sale,
a rich organization offers me a good pay
yes, I seize the opportunity without any delay
I got a role for my retirement I need to play
why then is he condemned?
Look, he is a hard worker
his most critics are hard talkers
with empty hands, no stone laid for
Uganda's building, instead demolish his work in the night
and pretend to be good in the light
I laugh, ha ha ha... things are just tight
they are typical barking dogs- never bite
Amama is the mama of peace 
Daily wakes in the cold darkness
wears spectacles and looks at Uganda in sadness
All the lazy Ugandans criticize him; madness!
... Insane crazy they are
him the hardworking they paint corruption
in wisdom he laughs them off
higher and higher like a rocket he takes off
I got my land on sale,
a rich organization offers me a good pay
yes, I seize the opportunity without any delay
I got a role for my retirement I need to play
why then is he condemned
Look, he is a hard worker
his most critics are hard talkers
with empty hands, no stone laid for
Uganda's building, instead demolish his work in the night
and pretend to be good in the light
I laugh, ha ha ha... things are just tight
they are typical barking dogs- never bite
Amama is the mama of peace
he deserves respect please!
he is the real premier.

King sayuni Nicholas Atisa

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Good Morning, Good Morning

I hear a little greeting at least once every day. “Good morning. Good morning,” both friends and strangers say. And when I’ve been awakened and turn the TV on, news folks have been saying it now since the break of dawn. How fitting the expression (that the dawn is breaking). Dawn sure breaks my restful sleep as I lie there aching.. . . Aching to go back to my private land of dreams, to burrow under blankets. Instead, it always seems. . . I’ve barely laid my head upon my pillow when my clock’s alarm starts buzzing. I turn it off and then. . . I quickly dress for work with barely time to eat. Dashing to my car, I hear the birdies’ “Tweet, tweet, tweet.” I know what they are saying to all the other birds. Those crazy birds are saying it not even using words! “Good morning. Good morning.” And merrily the sun beams down as I go speeding to work again. What fun! To bed, to rise, and early! To do those things I should, But I will not. . . and so my mornings never will be good! For Frank's "What Annoys you" and now for PD's Contest on Poems written in the a.m.

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"That's not my elephant!" You could hear her say,
As quickly she ran, caught on film, heading this way.

The 2nd graders all laughed as they watched the movie,
Many of them thought it was really "Groovee."

For this was a film shot of their teacher Ms. Ella,
Whose performance in it was anything but stellar.

She was running for her life as the big bull feigned his charge,
The one she was supposed to ride wasn't nearly that large.

But it made for a good chuckle when she showed her class
The home movie of her trip to India's Kyber Pass.

Soon it was lunchtime...the cafeteria line was fun
As they laughed about how fast their teacher could run.

Spaghetti was on the bill of fare
Passing it wouldn't dare.

Because they would need all their energy tonight
They had a test coming on the Bill of Rights.

Ms. Ella was a good teacher and her kids liked her a lot
But her tests were difficult as if she had some plot.

She would send them home with work to do,
But they learned from her film, not everything is work too.

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Fingerprint Failure

Applying for teacher certification
I caused one technician much consternation

My fingerprints had simply not registered
Again and again the test he administered

“Guess you could have had a career in crime,”
He retorted reapplying ink grime

He said this had never happened before
But the results he surely couldn’t ignore

He sent me to an experienced tester
Who made many cracks, joked like a jester

He claimed my blank prints were quite unique
Turned over my hands just to take a peek

The delicate lines could scarcely be seen
And the fingers themselves were awfully lean

“What work do you do?” he asked with a scowl
As he removed the ink with a towel

“I now type 82 words per minute,
Most of my life I’ve been immersed in it"

My helpless fingers were worn to the bone
And my tester let out a mournful groan

Apparently pounding on my keyboard
Had produced an undesired reward

Faint thumbprints revealed no criminal record
And I won an overachiever award

Typing is essential to the work I do
Next time they need prints, I’ll remove my shoes

** True story for the Finger Frenzy contest

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bucket list of wants

Tons more I wish to do, Much more I want to do, Before I am laid on the pyre facing the sky deep blue, Much more I wish to do………. I want to scale scary heights, I want to bungee jump without any fright. I want to travel rough terrains on bikes, I want to make it through forests and go on long hikes. I want to wander singing songs, I want to sing about how I mended my wrongs. I want to be creative again , I want to write about my joys thrills and pain. I want to pour my heart and passion in my works, I want to write verses & haikus without reactions knee jerks. I want to take many a calculated risks, I want to learn from the entire process without shortcuts or fancy tricks. I want to contribute for a good cause, I want to give without siphoning material or emotional dross. I want to untangle messed up issues, I want to wipe off tears with empathy laced tissues. I want to work on taboo subjects, I want to solve regression of y on x. I want to listen to my music loud, I want to pen my work in a place far from the madding crowd. I want to sow seeds and many a plant, I want to bask in sun rays that into my room slant. I want to drench in the rains, I want to make paper boats and sail them in the drains. I want to pick up from the ground and smell fresh wet earth, And then joyously have my speech filled with mirth. I want to boldly write about myself only for me, I want the world to know me & my mind as they will always see. I want to meet often the persons, who mean a lot to me, I want to be able to emote my passions and feelings of love and glee. I want to be happy about just any small thing, And all this I want to do before the last breath to my nostrils I bring. Facing the blue skies on my funeral pyre, I want to be on the best craft my soul can hire…. All this I want to do very soon, Before sets into me dreaded gloom. But the life I live is taking its toll, I am yet to get out of this oblivious hole. Time is just right to set aside, And take a ride Fulfill my wants and dreams that I nurtured in me to grow, And I had put away sheathed in a cocoon of time many years ago. Now I don’t want a moment long, And I will do what I want and sing my own song, And do what in me I let grow, Many, many years ago.
by: Sashi.Prabhu

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A False Reality

You're an illiterate literate, a contradictory existence
Your stupidity is obvious, your ignorance, consistent.
You major in directions and minor in detail
Yet you speak in tongues and write in braille.
You base your thoughts off of hopes and dreams
Off of useless prayers or so it seems,
No one can dive into the depths of your mind
For it's an endless pit, an abandoned mine
Ignorance is bliss, or so you say
With that saying, you lead the way. 

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My daily work to pursue; all chores to be assigned
Organization is the key, thus concluding in a peace of mind.
The future I cannot foresee, however solid planning in my hands
My employees won’t be led astray, they faithfully obey my commands;
I am patient showing them the right way, hence the day starts with morning bright 
Every job is taken by grace while their working hours filled with delight.
Knowing I’m satisfied by looking at my face. High standards and higher they rise,
Pleased I am and my solemn gratitude I pay, rewarding them with a bonus prize.
These faithful workers with me they stay; I am glad that faith made me judicious.

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The Tough Stuff - for Couplet Challenge

Between-the-cracks and nasty beneath-the-surface stuff
creeps up on me; then  getting rid of it becomes too tough!

For Susan Burch's Couplet Challenge

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Life is an Aventurous Squirrel Run

I have my Hubby’s steadfast belief in me.
He loves how my poems are light and airy.
He’ll give me an idea once in a while…
Then he escapes to come back, later to read my new child.

He calls these run-throughs a squirrel run.
For they can take off in directions, yes, any one.
Crazy thoughts become crazier still…
And story time leads to god knows, where they will.

My thinking is kind of like chasing around a tree.
You never know where the end will be.
But somewhere I eventually become truly still.
And that is where my Hubby adds into the trill.

Then the squirrel run begins again…
Light and fluffy and full to the brim.
Each day a new adventure... waits around the bend.
Live it. Love it. Write it... You'll be happier in the end.

Contest: Emotion: Squirrelly and fun   CSEastman

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A Vampire In Scrubs

you squirm and you scream
a racing pulse with sweat pouring down, unconsciousness it seems 
Type "A" or maybe type "B" to fill my need
with a captivating stare you will submit your soul and forever bleed
A vampire of the night
a blood sucker of a gloomy delight
test tube after test tube I will fill to the brim
all the while I hum a devious delectable hymn 
Type "A" or maybe "B" to fill my need
for me, you will submit your soul and bleed
you squirm and you scream as the day fades to night
a blood sucker of a gloomy delight 

You glance up with shallow breath and grab hold of my hand
drift away my innocent beauty, drift with dreams of the sand man 


I am a certified  Phlebotomist/Lab Tech. Asst. and thought I'd have a little fun with it. Thanks.
Carolyn's Contest

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muddy track or golden road

Where will I go, what will I be told to do?

Will it be the road paved with gold for me and you?

What can I expect, what will I find on the road ahead?

I may find the road turns into a muddy track instead.


Why am I pushed towards the muddy track?

Is there some work for me to do, Will I continue holding back?

Will it be amongst the homeless people, and the poor ones who

Always thinking and wondering, will their wish come true?


An Empty Manor House, cold and damp with no heart

Who would own this house, to find out where do we start?

Permission we received to rent it, and now the work begins

With Gods touch and hard work the homeless now live in.


Not such a muddy track, once elbow grease was applied

By working together, God and man, the homeless will survive

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Three Bricklayers

Three hard-working bricklayers were once asked what they were doing.
Their replies said a lot about them and the goal that each was pursuing!

The first answered, "Well, I am laying bricks, as you can see!
I strive for perfection and for a fair wage, a days work I'll guarantee!"

The second retorted, "Well, I am making $17.50 an hour!
I've been a mason for twenty years and have a heap of staying power!"

The third replied, "Well, I'm building a cathedral for the glory of the Lord!
I strive for eternal significance in all I do and expect little worldly reward!"

All three were doing the same job, yet each had a different point of view!
Perhaps the moral of this tale is to strive for eternal value in all you do!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

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Eyes do Weep

When my son was young and so very, very wild… 
I loved him dearly for he was my child.
But I feared the drugs, alcohol, and friends he did keep.
I knew they would destroy him, as I found my Eyes do weep.

We found a private High school with new peers to seek.
Miraculously, He found his own way back, and to college he did leap.
He chose a college and fraternity far away, as my eyes blurred again.
But the day he was on his own, became the best that’s ever been.

His fraternity became his brothers, and advice they dished out.
Study time became important, with gentlemanly behavior devout.
I’ll thank them each, in the leadership and help they all showed.
I’ll thank my son for growing up, and for becoming who we now know.
Community service brought blood drives, and teaching inner city kids.
They worked on their fraternity house, reclaiming it from the skids.
All parties had designated drivers to take every body home, all right.
They gathered clothes for the homeless to brighten up their life.
They built Homes For Humanity for to work he was never adverse.
Then, to add to the rest, he continued to work to become a nurse. 
He put himself through college working in a hospital and ambulance.
He had learned a reverence for life, happiness, and yes, even patience.
My wild, wild son has found purpose in life and peace at long last.
And again my eyes do weep… This time with love so vast...