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Couplet Inspiration Poems | Couplet Poems About Inspiration

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

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Humor is my inspiration

At awe by my mothers beautiful mind,
when it came to writing I always felt so blind.

Literature class advised us to write,
for the first time I did not feel bright.

Sneak a poem of my mothers i did,
boy did I feel like a little kid.

Praise my teacher gave me for such a lovely write,
my mind here and there like a kite.

Lucky me open house was here,
the poem posted on the class wall had me at fear.

Suggesting my parents to skip that class,
trying to avoid the coming sass.

She read it and thought to herself that it was idolized,
her eyes got big as she realized.

Quiet she kept as she knew how embarrassed I was,
of course it gave her a buzz.

It was cause of that day we look back,
and my mom gave me some slack.

She later taught me it's as simple as rhyming,
and with the emotions I have priming.

Copyright © Royal Ninja | Year Posted 2013

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One Year Ago

Well, it has been one year since I joined Poetry Soup.
I smile now, because I have met this wonderfully diverse group.

August 7th, 2013 was a day that would change my life.
I finally found the place where I could express my cares and strife.

I know that I say this often, and yet it is still not enough.
Thank you all for bringing me happiness on days that were rough.

To Linda, The "Poet Destroyer" and her sister SKAT.
You both welcomed me warmly and I will never forget that.

To Chan Hurst, who is much more than "Just That Archaic Poet".
We will always be friends to the end, and you know it.

To Nature Boy, .... well ..... what more can I say?
You have helped and inspired me to blossom in every way.

To Gail Angel Doyle, Debbie Duncan, Cheryl Dunn, and Michael Clarke.
Thank you for knowing that good things can come from the dark.

To John "Jake" Posey, who mentioned Poetry Soup while on another site.
You were actually the first person to tell me that I could write.

To Isaiah Zerbst, with whom my first collaboration would be.
Thank you so much for seeing the poetic potential in me.

To Mustapha Mohammed, a true "partner-in-rhyme".
Thank you for allowing my poetry to take up some of your time.

To Peter and Vera Duggan, Liam McDaid and Carolyn D.
Your kindness and friendship always meant so much to me.

To Bindu Vijayan, Johnny Rhinem, Yasmin Khan and Becca L.
Thank you for truly understanding my words so well.

To Andrea Dietrich, Nette Onclaud, Debbie Guzzi and Giorgio A.V.
I truly appreciate the encouragement that you've given to me.

To F.J. Thomas, Mystic Rose, Richard L., and Anne-Lise A.
Meeting kind-hearted people like you has made me want to stay.

To Thomas Simunsen, Karen Anglesey, Dr, Ram Mehta and Drake E.
I think you have read almost every poem ever written by me.

To Matthew Anish, Charmaine C., Shadow H., and Dave Wood.
Thank you for making me smile more than anyone ever could.

To Robin Davis, Danesh Morgan, Roger H., Litan D., and Sara K.
I appreciate all of you visiting me nearly every single day.

To Christopher Thor Britt, Carrie C., Justin Bordner, and Craig C.
None of your written words have ever failed to inspire me.

To Casarah N., Robert Lindley, Paul Callus and Arthur V.
Thank you all for just being so friendly to me.

We all share a common passion through the writing of a poem.
I am so lucky to have found a place that feels like home.

There are many friends that I have met along the way.
So, thank you all for brightening up the last 365 days.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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Inspiration Taps Softly

Sometimes late at night as we succumb to sleep
We greet creative thoughts beyond those of counting sheep

It’s said Thomas Edison held coins in his hands
That clanged into a bucket noisily as planned

Stirring, he was intrigued by notions for invention
That seemed to emerge from a different dimension

It worked for him and if you enter an alpha state
You, too, may find this source of inspiration great

For it is this exercise of the mind unwinding
That serves to recount the day, subtle reminding

Of the joy you found when beholding a flower
And the thrill of discovering nature’s power

Or the touch of a hand from one who reaches out
When a vulnerable heart is mired in doubt

And the scent of loved ones’ perfume on a pillow
That permits our longing memories to billow

The sounds and tastes of each long day also emerge
As slumber takes charge and begins its nightly purge

So keep a pen and pad at bedside as you retire
Knowing that inspiration is likely to spire

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

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Actions of Love

"Actions of Love"
by:  Eric L. Boddie

What if I were to instigate your heart to join with my own
Would you make me the place you call home

If I challenge your body to a duel of pleasure
Would you be willing to expose your treasure

If I dare your Soul to become my mate
Would you define me as your fate

If I urge your eyes to see my truth
Would you help me build Love under just one roof

If I influence your hands to want to touch my frame
Would you declare yourself as only my personal toy without shame

If I bet your tongue that it can't out wrestle mine in any timing
Would you just accept it or would you die trying

If I inflict you with Love That's Truly Heavenly
Would you take your rightful place in Eric's Destiny....

Copyright © eric boddie | Year Posted 2016

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We Dream In Pink

In moments of silence, we dream in pink tranquility,
a blushing sunrise draped in rays of hope. The ability
to stand tall and then rise, soaring over the beast, shaded
below. Our memories of sickness and sorrow faded
until our tomorrows are crowned in wreaths of laurel.
We are survivors! The beast cannot shred our blooming floral 
spirits - our beauty, strength, resolve comes from our mother’s fight
in this long battle. We, who once walked alone, take flight
together on our promise to triumph in pink. We will leave
a legacy of unity to our daughters. We will not grieve
for the days before the noise in our heads became deafening. 
We will seize the pink skyline and savor the silencing   
of our fears. Prayers of hope will be heard across time and space
as the angels shout in Heaven. This is our fight! This is our race! 
The finish line waits, in our sight, on the blazing pink horizon… 

By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders 
for the PINKTOBER ((Join The Fight )) Contest

**Dedicated to all the brave breast cancer survivors including 
my mother-in-law, Joan Saunders** 

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2013

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Pure Gold

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay. 

Learning His lessons at last
The past must die as the past
The future must never exist
So let the fates turn and twist
No time to berate and bemoan
Each instant is ever on loan
Right now is the now or never
Nothing but God lasts forever

***Inspired by Robert Frost's poem "Nothing Gold Can Stay"
Sumitted for: The contest sponsored by Jerry T Curtis

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2014

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For Andrea Dietrich

Say something nice, and a short little while
She will respond with kind words and a smile.
True to her nature, she always will say
Something so nice that I cannot repay.
Bright and unique, every contest that's new
Challenges, helps, and expands us anew.
Don't know that form? Then it's time to begin;
Do a good job and it's sure of a win.
Trying a form that you can't understand?
Andrea's knowledge is always at hand.

Gifted in phrasing and rhyming for sure;
Words she has written in minds will endure.
Poems of flow'rs and a sweet little beach
Dance in the dreams of this sweet little peach!
Sijos of seahorses dance in the sea;
Starfish and dolphins keep good company.
Kyrielles of yellow burst forth like sunflowers:
Rubaiyats of robins in Spring's gentle showers.
Sonnets of sparrows and songbirds fly high
Twined with the cumulus clouds in the sky.
Sunsets of lavender scatter their light;
Sapphics of stars wink their way thro' the night.
Footle sized fireflies twinkle till dawn,
Making a fairyland right on her lawn;
Then in the morning, she wakes and recalls
Visions of dreams still contained in her walls.
Out of her window, or deep in her mind,
She will not rest till the poem she finds.
Thus, she has poems by beauty inspired;
Mixed with her skill, that is why she's admired.

{Just too late for the contest. Bummer!}

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2015

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When the river runs dry

When the river runs dry

When the river runs dry, tears of sorrow fill this poets eyes
The words just won't flow, as the blank page clearly shows

All life dries up as ideas and thoughts they get torn in two
All around us can see it and sense it they feel the sorrow too

For what is life without freedom of thought and it's expression?
All poets like their words to be heard and read without exception

Our Maker well knows our needs, knows us better than ourselves
When the river runs dry, He gives us clean waters found in his well

When we go to him and drink deeply of his fresh waters of truth
Our soul and spirit are invigorated  renewed like the days of our youth

Our prayers are answered as copious tears shower down from on high
We drink it all in till we're dripping wet, that's when we understand why

When we rely on ourselves our own thinking from our imperfect minds 
That's when there's trouble, the page is blank and so the river runs dry.

John Derek Hamilton
April 17,2016

Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2016

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Poetry Souper Heroes

before I start please allow me to say
that if you don't see your name, please have no dismay
but I just had to write it this way....
everyone here is least to me....

"Poetry Souper Heroes"
by:  Eric L. Boddie

If only Dr. Upma A. Sharma had seen
That Ligella Mandraki was an Angel with Broken Wings
Then her complaint could have been resented
And for whatever her need, she could let Emile Pinet
Because Robert Lindley and Catie Lindsey had plans for The Lyric
Poet Destroyer....A wordsmith like me just wouldn't hear it
So I sought out the Bev-Smith, she creates irons to Beautify the hair
But I only found Lycia, Harding a journey I thought was so fair
But what I found most surprising was the presence of the Silent One
Who said his very first words, which was simply, "Alexis? Young"
Maybe this was a warning, I mean it's not right to Skat A child
TOMMY....BOY you better stop could be heard for at least a mile
He said he was a Tim Smith, but how do you create Tims
He said he had 37 sons and that was the name for all of them
In search of the Lone Wolf Mystery, but all he ever knew was to poke her
Only Pandita Sanchez said no, so he made Eve Roper
With a bold look, he told her "let James In-man"
And she said "I ain't no dude, I am like Jan, Allison, Anne, Lise, And-resen"
And then he saw her and said "Kum-kum Sharma, please let her in...."

to be continued.....

Copyright © eric boddie | Year Posted 2015

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Poetry Souper Heroes: The Sequel

"Poetry Souper Heroes:  The Sequel"
by:  Eric L. Boddie

As we last saw, Anita Sharma was coming in
What's that Melody Thomas, I had to ask my friend
It's called Falling Raindrops, Kim Patrice Nunez is the singer
By German composer Kim van Breda, rumor has it she's a swinger
She lives on Lin Lane in the house where there is a Mystic Rose
Tom was a country boy, but Laura?  Urbaniak I suppose
Becca Teagan walked by as we heard the sound of a gun
She then fell to the ground, oh my, what has Cherl Dunn
Soon after, officers Ian Guyler and Connie Marcum Wong pull up as the scene diminishes
All we could tell them was these are simply the Remnants Of Some Silly Experiences
She lost her job as a teacher because she told the kids, on every Paige, Reed for yourself
But when the principal fired her, who would have thought she would have taken her last breath
This was all too disturbing, Andrea Dietrich said let's go to the dance
But when we got inside all it said was Charmaine Chircop vs Casarah Nance
I said where is the dance, she said welcome to the mud fight
There's a family tag team handicap main event, Terry and Chante Reeves vs Sophiya Kamil tonight
I said will this degradation of women ever cease
And that's when Robert Stoner Jr. told Stella, "Fullard is slang for obese"
That's when Kelly Deschler came in, armed to the t, and said the violence is about to increase....

to be continued....

Copyright © eric boddie | Year Posted 2015

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     Times when families get together,
     it can be in Spring, Summer, Fall, or Winter weather.

     Days filled with relaxation and rest,
     and all the feasting that is only the best.

     Days for the enjoyment,
     of not having to go to our employment.

     A gift for children for as a rule,
     it's a day when they don't get up for school.

     A time of laughter heard in the trees,
     or the aroma of barbecue wafting on the breeze.

     Memories of those no longer here,
     and all the times they brought us cheer.

     When some are thrilled by colorful presents,
     but are a better gift because of our family's presence.

     The year's gifts of giving,
     for us taking part in our daily living.

     Nearly upon us again, and they bring us a tear too,
     because we love you and wish we could share them with you.

     Truly, a present from God above,
     presented through His Son, bestowing on us His gracious love.


Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2015

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What do you think of me now

       What do you
think of me now?

I hear you say what
a brat I am and how
I made you do it
the hits, the hurts,
the names you called
me-well, I lived
through it
When you came into
my room at night I
prayed I would
 but things have
changed a lot since
then, here’s
something you should

I carried my
troubles in a shirt
pocket that covered
my heart for years 
but now I share all
of my burdens to
alleviate my fears
I spent my life
feeling full of
shame but now I know
the truth
And your words that
used to sting so
quick are quite
suddenly mute 

I see with more than
eyes today and hear
with more than ears
I’ve learned that
bravery can be heard
in soft cries and
falling tears
I don’t pretend to
not need anyone
anymore, today I
know that I do 
I still struggle
with asking others
for help, my silence
I learned from you

I know I’m not those
names you called me,
I’m kind and funny
and smart
 A sweet little
girl, a beautiful
woman- with a
convalescing heart
I’m curiously
optimistic about the
life I choose to
You see I’m no
longer tortured by
revenge or aching

I dream as if dreams
aren’t silly at all
and hope to make a
I won’t let anyone
tell me who I am
anymore, so I offer
you my forgiveness
I don’t know where
you ended up or if
you found your way
but if you hear me
read this poem I’d
like to hear you say
-what do you think
of me now.

Copyright © Christine Costello | Year Posted 2014

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Out of an ethereal mist her form –
round, soft edges shimmering, a milky

apparition, like the full moon on a foggy
July night. Myrtle and roses came first

in the aroma that took him to the shores 
of Tunisia and a Mediterranean breeze –

his mind wandered until she came full into view
and then his focus was secure…her beauty

filled every available space and he was captivated,
captured by love’s rich palette. He recognized her

not from a daydream nor a fantasy but his Big Dream.
“You…we have known before the slippery

rocks and the gypsy dance…stars over Mont Royal.”
With one look and a flash of lightning she charmed

his sight; he should have known he was doomed
to make the pilgrimage to Samos and the tomb.

She came to fill his head with poetry, rivers
of words to fill his verses and charge them

with emotions. Instead she filled his heart
with a drunkard’s love, a spring wine 

with a delicate bouquet…morning weighs heavy.
“Let me open the gate and chase the noisy

dogs away,  my riches lie within the garden.”
The shaper of words then took her guitar and sang

sweet melodies like kisses and he was the Best Man
far too drunk to resist her passions. He partook

in the creation of music divine amid the cries
of idolatry but he was deaf to the discord. 

With every song they sang he fell deeper
into her graces and his destiny was sealed;

he traded his heart to be skilled in the art
of making love with words, a noble task.

Whenever his vision appeared
he sensed infinity within his grasp.

So, could this awakening be
the pebble whose ripples rock the sea?

The seeker, who had found his treasure,
was now swimming in fatal hope.

I am jealous of White Feather to have kissed
the artful lips of Erato and survived.

Contest: Your BEST
Sponsor: SKAT

Copyright © Phil Capitano | Year Posted 2016

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Have you ever wondered to yourself
   "Have I gone stale, am I back on the shelf"?

    I have been to that writer's own lonely place
         Where words seldom come or only give you a trace.

               Then some contest will come along and let me see
                       A few words that I can use to help set my spirit free.

                           Not words that I would have thought on my own
                                But one of my heroes, whose work is here often shown.

                                     She will give me a boost when I feel my work is poor
                                          They do the trick, because I am suddenly sure.

                                          Perhaps you have felt it because they are driven
                                     By a poet whose comments are most honestly given.

                                 Her words to me often give me a peaceful calm
                            That act on my soul like a most soothing balm.

                        She is one of the first to have welcomed me here
                   I am very grateful that I was included in her sphere.

              She has helped to give my words a strength and fight
         Especially when she knew that they needed to come to light.

     I put her in my heroes and told her that perhaps one day
I would write something for her when I could think of the words to say.

            This is a poor effort and lacks what her words to me mean, but alas
            It is my ODE TO CAYCAY...for that day has finally come to pass.
            They are not of the quality I would like to have written
            But these words came to me today as if I were smitten.

            My saying "Thank you" does not do her any justice at all
            Right now, they are the only ones that I can recall.

            So let me say them in this, in my own meager way

Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2016

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Either a Delinquent or a Deviant

Either a Delinquent of a Deviant

Have I been a delinquent or a deviant?
What is message to me, God has sent?
Someday must go out on my very own
Knowing God will never leave me alone.

While I will rest and comfortably sit,
For me, you should try to finish it
With your ability and also endeavor
Now matter what may be the weather.

This should serve as an inspiration

James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran

Take whatever part of my poem you 
want to and write a new one. Thanks.

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2014

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Flowing Ink of the Mind

Positioned is the brain, writing tool, paper or book until the inside technically responds, static is the look. The mind standing as the intellectual portal is an excellent feature of being mortal. Receiving sensitive signals no matter how small from the eyes the one in the inside more in activity, function and size. Then comes the needed transmission called inspiration a careful write with some processing gives fascination. Wheels of sight roll continuously to really see the revelation then emerges from the hidden sea. Navigating each thought which is fully anointed concludes on sweet words carefully appointed. Undefined is the time frame of a session forcing out ideas can put the mind under pension. Meandering sense to impress and fit into any logical rule the crafted final piece, over it is the time to mull. Thinking, writing and thinking again follows each penned stroke nowhere near baked, still wearing an old cloak. Adjustments and perfections consistently injected in each trace makes the refined piece to other minds a welcoming place.

Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2016

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Physics of the moon
I feel the lunar ecstasy in your heart
Connecting our vibes from over 1500 miles apart
With every swing of my mood ring, my sensational heart will sing
An out of this world phenomenon tune, "you are my everything!"
Absorbing every phase the moon goes threw
Sending energy between me and you
When our eyes meet on the darkest side of the moon
Your body mass rotates like a cyclone hitting my land like a typhoon
Like the gravity that bonds the earth and moon together
Our souls will collide with a massive force of forever
The image of you appears at all times like a moon cycle
Like a cascade running all around my mind, like a halo circle
Our love and vision orbits through every star
Giving us light no matter how near or far
The stars throb around the moon like a secret signal in the night
While you inhale my energy that exceeds into the morning light
Like a rainbow that enters and vanishes into the twilight of our sky
Our first kiss under the moon beam will twist our tongues into a tie
A sweet magnetic shadow will remain under the half moon
Sweeping our love above the clouds to float like a balloon
Holding a reflection with the moon's tide
Our journey continued, side by side
Emerging our love to find its way soon
Like a love mirage with the physics of the moon


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010

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Treat Others How You Want To Be Treated

The littlest deeds still go a long way. 
So better the world and try it today. 

People don't realize the good they can do,
By holding doors open and smiling too. 

Try to be chivalrous, try to be meek. 
Try to be humble whenever you speak. 

Others will notice the way that you are. 
A light so unique, shines bright like a star. 

Relay the message, conquer the kindness. 
Replays impressive, actions are mindless. 

We live to laugh, and love to be loved.
Turn both your cheeks, when pushed and then shoved. 

Intuitiveness is a trick of the trade.
Instinctive bliss results moments well played. 

"Treat others how you want to be treated."
This motto of life makes smiles repeated. 

-Yours Truly

Copyright © Yours Truly | Year Posted 2013

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Eternal Hope

Eternal Hope You speak with your eyes and I hear with my heart. They tell of a love that never can start. But, somewhere deep, inside of me, This feeling will live through eternity. So, if Walter Mitty, I must be Then, that will have to satisfy me. Note: In Walter Mitty's daydreams he imagines himself to be heroic. That seems to be the common denominator throughout the tale by James Thurber. Written by John Posey 11/03/13

Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2013

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God's Grace

Beneath the diamond dust.
Of the twilight of the moon.

Thoughts of you float by my eyes.
My mind spins into a thousand lines.

Silver threads weave their way thru my soul.
And I am once again transported back in time.

The moon at the time was a blush in scarlet red.
As the heavens opened up and the stars fled.

As every grain of sand turned into a gem.
And the sea spoke eloquently with Him . 

 I watched the stars came back to twinkle in the sky.
The truth of God is hidden like a treasure in the light.

Though the canopy of this great land know well his touch.
The deep blue of the night skies holds  his mystical touch.

As the flowers did bow in Gods holy light, as  they did 
spread the seeds of Gods everlasting grace .    

Sat. 6: pm  7/ 20/ 2013

Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013

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A Person's Worth and Measure

A Person’s Worth and Measure

A person’s life is sacred in God’s eyes,
For we all know that God tells us no lies.  

God views a person’s worth and measure,
As something grand and always to treasure.

A person should fear not his or her measure,
Rather strive always to find God’s pleasure. 

A person’s azimuth lies in God’s very hands,
And only God knows one’s destiny and final plans.

A person who does good works in this life,
Is one who’s good and penitent before all strife.

As a person’s life nears its final end days, 
God’s there to show him or her His holy ways.

A person’s worth and measure mean so much;
In God’s eyes such values always merit his touch!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
June 6, 2015 (Rhymed Couplet)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

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I watch my shadows as I walk this earthly path.
Ever changing as the moon follows the sun.

And though I travel far and wide.
I see hands extended in friendship. 

My shadow falls on whispers passing by.
As I walk this Kaleidoscope of highways.

I see you shed a tear, and I wipe it clear.
So the sun can shine for you again.

I see that my world remains beautiful to me.
Even when there are dark clouds around me.

No, I shall not sink to the lowest form.
Moonlight carries me forever forward.

Even with my shadow, part light, part dark.
I'm but a shadow within this earthly realm.

5/ 27/ 2013  9:30pm   Mon.  

Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013

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Me and My Guitar

Me and My Guitar

God to me was pleasant and nice
So nothing did I need to sacrifice
And every day would hold my hand
To tell me that He does understand.

God's willing to accept me as I am
Because I say yes and no ma'am
And to God will be always sure
That for everything Hehas a cure.

I may toil and tarry again and again
And every time when I start to sin
Forgives them even if black or white
Done morning, noon and into the night.

When I see a shining star in the sky
Stop everything and to God say Hi
He may be either close or away far
Loves songs I play on my great guitar.

If opera will be willing to welcome me
I am sure I will set their souls all free
As soon as they hear my fabulous voice
Will all sing along and start to rejoice.

James Joyful Jubilant Horn
Retired Veteran

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015

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I Am a Reflection of the Creator's Hand

So many things I want to say,
Knowing many who have gone astray,
So many castles build on sand,
But mines, is a solid rock, on which I stand,
So many forgotten little sheep	
They have drowned in pools too deep,
So many questions that cause demands,
But mine, rest in the fathers hands.

We can shake our hands to the sky,
Beg for answers and scream our cries
We can let bitterness come between,
Curse others, fight and scream,
But when we lay it at his feet,
The holy fire causes all troubles to become obsolete
Learn to listen and then you will understand,
That we were made to be more than just human,
We are reflections of the creator’s infinite plan.

So many give up when they fall,
But God is greater than it all,
So many children run our streets,
Because they don’t know a love that is complete
So many trials cause despair,
And many tears plead its unfair,
But when you realize this is the master’s land
And that the finally is ABSOLUTLY grand,
You turn away from what they say
And allow the FATHER to lead the way.

We can shake our hands to the sky
Beg for answers and scream our cries,
We can let bitterness come between,
Curse others, fight and scream
But when we lay it at his feet
The holy fire causes all troubles to become obsolete
Learn to listen and then you will understand
That we were made to be more than just human
We are reflections of the creator’s infinite plan

Read His word and you will understand.

By: Sabina Nicole
Written: Father’s Day 2012

Copyright © Sabina Nicole | Year Posted 2012

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In the Moment

I sip my cup of tea
And write this for PD.

Jack Horne, 28th December, for PD’s In the Moment contest

Copyright © jack horne | Year Posted 2014

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Sage Advice From George Washington

"Associate yourself with men of good quality if you esteem your reputation!"

This sage advice was offered by George Washington, the father of our nation!

'Tis but one of many wise adages to us he did bequeath.
Can be said that truer words were never spoken through falser teeth!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2013

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If the world were filled with angelic souls
With inspired insight and matching goals

There would be peace, not appalling wars
Only bountiful serenity for me and yours

Famine and strife would cease to exist
Plans to feed the world we'd all enlist

Violence and murder would be no more
Anger dealt with swiftly we'd all strive for

Unheard of would be prejudice against another's race
Everyone warmly welcomed anywhere into any place

No more long hours at a job that makes one cringe inside
Encouraged to be in a career that makes one smile with pride

Our children would never feel unloved and unwanted
Abundance of hugs and sweet kisses would be flaunted

Marriages would thrive and not end in divorce
Being with our true soul mates we'd all endorse

Jealousies, insecurities and hatred would be wiped out
Contentment and confidence would be what we're about

If we all collaborate to make our world a better place
Happiness and tranquility will be ours to embrace


Copyright © Cecilia Macfarlane | Year Posted 2014

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Bestowed with life by One powerful Divine
Gracious with His love scintillating shine

I traverse roads: rose and weeded grounds
Flaming with a soldier's will to expound

From dawn begins my journey til sun sets
So many roads bided, my ownself to sweat

Courage bullets, I fire and fire
Pursuing success my ringing desire

Wait! hold on,don't go fast, echoes
Rush runs may thud a sporadic tempo
I have seen caterpillars dying as butterflies
Buds bloom, spreading aroma, by-and-by

The angelic aroma invites prosperity brush
It's rouge shows maturation like royal flush

Bravely. I go forth to reach every dream
Conquering beyond foggy upstream

If my own-self, a rebellion, resisting me
Earthquake moan to call a break-free.

Kaleidoscope faces became my preachers
A halo or a tail experience: my teachers

Tricky battalion of pressures stressing
Yet, camouflage trials bomb to blessings

Rewarding me with laughter and tears
Adding tons of memories to my years

Evolving beautiful to each season stir
Wisdom and love, now, my own myrrh

If I shall die this very day,
I hope my legacy not a dismay...

(C) Olive Eloisa and Malik Yaseen
September 23, 2014

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Fraser | Year Posted 2014

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Once Upon A Time


I felt bold, placing an Ad in New York's Village Voice; see
I needed a friend, a guide, a conscientious lover of my choice

But as I read and read, one unusual two page letter
Stated that they'd be my slave, and loyal house sitter

That was start and end of that; but meanwhile,
I met a lonely young woman wanting to commit suicide

I showed her warmth, serenity, and rest; then I went to work
Leaving her with view of Hudson River, and lush trees in the park

That summer, I introduced her to her very own cozy space
Next door. Lo and behold, she found and looked like grace

One afternoon, as I hurried to fetch my usual subway train
This once lonely girl stopped to model her gold engagement ring

She stood hand in hand, with a spectacled gentleman I'd seen, so
I simply smiled, said farewell, and played back tapes of old scenes.


Copyright © Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis | Year Posted 2016

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Copyright © 2013

Politicians' greed seems to hover
  Over our lives, a simmering cover

Separation of Church and State?
  Satan planned mankind's fate

As in the days of Noah, sin did hover
  Over their land like locusts do cover

The faithful do not fret what is hovering
  By HIS Blood, the Lord is still covering

Our leaders refuse to make a deal
  When enthralled by Satan's Will

Politics, and selfish greed
  Failing our Nation's need

Obama-Care, a change that's fair
  Or, struggling against Satan's lair?

But, ye faithful remember the heavens hover
  Till horns blow clearing clouds that do cover.

by: LP
edited: 6 Aug 2013 - 8:22pm
         25 Sep 2013  - 8:13pm

Copyright © Les Pruitt | Year Posted 2013