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Couplet Work Poems | Couplet Poems About Work

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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





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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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Fireworks

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


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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
                         4-21-10


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The Wise Ones will Rise

People who are kind and wise
their success will surely rise


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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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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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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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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


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''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?...pay 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
28/02/2012


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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. 
13.02.2013


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AWSOME SITE

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 sex...it's the next best thing!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL !!


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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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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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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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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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STELLAR MS ELLA

"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 up...one 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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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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The best job

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

Volodymyr Knyr
2014


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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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Reply Email From Subby Conscience

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

To: gadeb@zzzsmail.com
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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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 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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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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My Week Off

I am so looking forward to my week off work.
I have no travel plans, getting paid is the perk.

Paid to stay home and sleep in if I might.
Not to be ruled by dawn's early light.

I can put pen to paper and indulge my passion.
Forming my poetry in many a fashion.

Barefoot I'll be for most of the week.
Clad in my jeans, relaxation I'll seek.

Reading, crocheting and just staying in.
This much relaxing is probably a sin.

I'll stock up on groceries the very first day.
I just hate to shop so I'll get it out of the way.

If this warm weather holds there'll be time in the sun.
Visiting the parks, yes, that will be fun.

Coffee with friends, a walk on the beach,
Chatting on the phone with those out of reach.

It's only one week and I know it'll fly by.
I'll need to work on some crafts, for Christmas is nigh.

Once back to work there will be no relaxation.
Not until spring when I get another vacation.



for Carol's  "Week to Do As I Please" contest


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Our secret pact

 Written on 7th may 2012

The three of us, I don’t recall the time,
when we first met I shared all secrets of mine.

One of them I realized began to befriend me about an eon ago,
the other one I recall was with me since puberty, constantly seeking a glow.

The three of us made a pact for me to move on
but now it is only me and the two of them gone…………..

One was the inner me
and the other was the man in my mirror I envied to be.

But now it is three woven into one
and it is the new me.

As we draw our pact now and here
Would love to banish from my life, worry doubt & fear.

Would like to be joyous, true and live life each moment with zest,
And give the people around me nothing but the best.

Would love to talk, communicate and break mental barriers that are creations,
and work hard towards mending broken relations.

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.

Would love to make an effort to be a good friend,
To my elder daughter and put all petty misunderstandings to an end.

Would love to stop to the people in contact ,the shoving,
And spend more time in loving.

Would love to stop being disadvantageous and outrageous,
And speak only the truth and for that be courageous.


Would love to fight my emotions all unfriendly,
And cover them all with feelings that are friendly.

Would love to learn to be sensitive,
And towards others be open and receptive.

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.

Would love to learn to be content about all I have received,
And focus now on giving and helping those, whom life has deceived.

Would love to pray for world peace and plant more trees,
And  work to help out for carbon emission decrease.

Would love to learn to be forgiving,
And be more tolerant and caring.

Would love to right some of my wrongs,
And be true to myself and hum joyous songs.

And finally, 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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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...



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Firework

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


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My heartfelt thanks to a fascinating person I did not know contest

Was in1967 that this wonderful man
Performed an operation that no one else can.

Because of this man my heart can be healed
My undying gratitude is surely signed and sealed.

His work has helped  hundreds of sufferers
To  lead a near normal life  of many years.

To this man I raise my glass, been thinking very hard
How do you say thank you, to Dr Christian Barnard.

Your expertise has been shown and taught in distant parts
Now surgeons  have the knowledge to mend such broken hearts .

When he retired from this work his planned to end his days
Living in Austria to wind down, relax and golf to play

Whilst on holiday in Paphos after he had retired
Died at the poolside  of a heart attack, a good life expired.


Dedicated to Dr Christian Barnard, the man whom in South Africa  carried out the first human  to human heart transplant..


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Sally

Sally gave me an eggroll
when business had died-down.

One small and glistening eggroll
to take away my frown.

Thank you Sally; you generous Sally,
whom the dollar has no meaning.

You've bent the rules and made man fools;
and taken them out for cleaning.


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A bargaining tool

Use not only a stool
as a bargaining tool.

Volodymyr Knyr
2014


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The Weeds Among the Wheat

(Saints & Sinners in the Church / God's Patience with Sinners / Final Judgment
MT 13:24-30, 36-43)

He proposed another parable to them
"The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a man who sowed good seed in his field

 While everyone was asleep his enemy came 
sowed weeds all through the wheat then went off. 

When the crop grew and bore fruit, the weeds appeared as well 

The laves of the householder came to him and said, 
'Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where have the weeds come from?' 

He answered, 'An enemy has done this.' His slaves said to him, 'Do you want us to go and pull them up?' 
He replied, 'No, if you pull up the weeds you might uproot the wheat along with them. Let them grow together until harvest; 

Then at harvest time I will say to the harvesters 
"First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles for burning; but gather the wheat into my barn." 

"He who sows good seed is the Son of Man, the field is the world, the good seed the children of the kingdom. 
The weeds are the children of the evil one, and the enemy who sows them is the devil. 

The harvest is the end of the age, and the harvesters are angels. 
Just as weeds are collected and burned (up) with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. 

The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all who cause others to sin and all evildoers. 

They will throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth. 
Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. 

Whoever has ears ought to hear." (Taken from MT 13:24-30, 37-43)


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Rat Race

Today’s world keeps moving at such a fast pace,
Is it surprising that life has become nothing more than a rat race.

Most days seem to be a struggle to survive,
But there really is something more than just nine to five.


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Want to do

Written on: 7th September 2012.
Written by: Sashi.Prabhu (Zeauoxian)

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.


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Sally version 4

Sally's stuffing eggrolls in the back room.
Filling them with beansprouts
in case they have a boom.

Hundreds of these eggrolls
piled high for later.

Boiled in an oil
for each and every crater.

Some will go behind the glass
warming in a pan;

shining in their dipping oil,
tempting for a span.

Placed upon a plate and shimmied
to the side;

up against some rice
that's deep and dark and fried.

Dipped into a plum sauce
sweeter than a sneer,

and spread out on your plate
as far as you can smear

Flavour by the mouthful
damp and moist and wet

Sally's making eggrolls
the best that I can get.


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The Duality of Life

Bobby comes home from work to screaming kids and a nagging wife;
Feeling as if he hasn’t had a moment of peace in his entire life.

Jackson comes home from work to a dark and empty house;
Longing to fill the void of it all with offspring and a spouse.

Betty changes a dirty diaper and wipes a running nose;
The last time she pampered herself, only heaven knows.

Janet fixes another meal made especially just for one;
Wondering if her eligible days have all come and gone.

Each of them looks deep inside not liking what they see;
Convinced that everyone else in the world has a better reality.

Bobby watches his kids score a goal and his wife fixes him supper;
The pride he feels and love he shares works like a natural upper.

Jackson relaxes with a good book and listens to his favorite musician;
Comfortable with the freedom to do what he wants without any imposition.

Betty gets a big hug and a kiss from kids who say they love her;
The times she feels happiest is when she is helping out another.

Janet shares time with wonderful friends without any sexual tension;
And feels sorry for those unhappily married whose choices they often question.

Each of them looks deep inside and are happy with their destination;
Some days are good and some days are bad no matter our life situation.


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Duty Helps Us Realize Divinity


Only by doing well our duty
We can please the Divinity

When work is well-done
We tender a money-garden

When work is more
Life is never a bore

When we show sincerity
Blesses us the Almighty

In case we adore our  job
There is  no need to sob

When work is too much
Our will-power grows rich

Work if we truly enjoy
Poverty will not annoy

Working is better than praying
As one will be perfectly staying

Work offers money as a reward
So, is not work equal to the Lord?

mvvenkataraman

www.mvvenkataraman.com

SEARCH mvvenkataraman IN GOOGLE OR YAHOO



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Couplet Challenge- Wrinkles

I've run out of steam and I'm making worse creases.
"Bout ready to rip all my clothing to pieces!


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Taking Out The Trash

___ I would be so kind to open the door if, by chance...this garbage could soar... ___ _________________________________ Contest ~ Couplet Challenge


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Salesman

A grinning salesman at the door,
She slammed it in his face and swore.

For Susan's Overreaction


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A Couplet

You told me the proletariat's movement was eternal 
But I saw you reading the Wall Street Journal


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For the Workaholic

Hard work can be balanced with rest
to do good, or better, or best.


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The Blessing for My Book

As my job and health failed me... I dreamed to someday put together a 
book of poetry and this will be the blessing it will begin with...

As I sit here weaving my poetry
Into the semblance of a book…
I find that I must ask Gods’ blessing…
For the journey, that together we have took.

I find I must bow my head in thought…
Over this book that together we have wrought
As my hands clasp oh so reverently and earnestly over my heart…
As I believe his help brought the words together that I sought.

And God set the journey that shaped what now before you begins…
He helped me find the words that reached through my heart to my pen.
I pray the poems will be worthy of what he showed me as my life’s art.
And upon this book I honestly pray that his blessing he will impart. 






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A Sisyphus

A Sisyphus, that's who heals
affected Achilles' heels.

Volodymyr Knyr
2014


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AVOIDING A MESSY GORE

Washing coffee-stained cups, greasy frying pans and big pots is a very simple chore;
leaving a pile when turning the faucet on may clog the sink and cause a messy gore!


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I'm Worth It

I'm Worth It

The sweet taste of melon lies where the seeds lurk,
to experience the sweetness requires a bit of work.

Gathering luscious berries, you'll likely be torn,
the prize always nestles among briars and thorns.

Not all of life's pleasures are easily won,
to garner rain's benefit, we weather the storm.

To gain a healthy body or acquire a new skill
calls for expended effort, there's no magic pill.

Please pay close attention to this next part,
I expect you to work at winning my heart.

Woo and win me with chocolates, flowers and such,
courting without goodies doesn't interest me much.




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Couplet Challenge - Ironing

Steaming creases out, only to press them back in
Makes me want to chuck the whole pile in the bin


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Hated Job

Heaps of debris piled in manner hodgepodge.
I truly hate job of cleaning garage.

Won # 5 in contest


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The Morning Breezes

The morning breezes here are swift,
the pigs need slop, I get their drift.

A mournful cry wafts from the shed
the cows need milking, job I dread.
 
Moonlit thermometer reads twenty
but there are still fresh eggs a'plenty.

While morning breezes bring me shivers,
your head is buried under kivers.

When morning's wake disturbs your pleasure,
reflect on common foods you treasure.

Oh yes! enjoy your breakfast vict'als,
but ruminate on the farmers' rit'chuls.



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Old Red Barn

The old red barn is falling down
But we don't care, we've moved to town
We couldn't keep the farm after Papa died
There was too much work, but we tried
Life on a farm can take it's toll
You can still be young, but feel so old
I now work in a Wal Mart store
And Mama doesn't have to work any more
Sis got married and moved away
And we miss her every day
So let the old red barn fall down
We don't care, we've moved to town


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Washing and scrubbing

Washing and Scrubbing

Plate washing and tile scrubbing I detest among house chores,
Though boring, I still want them to shine like silver ores.


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The Plight of Subordinates

Time's pages are turning; folks are churning 
A better butter, worth bread's hard earning
Its unmistaken; bacon is burning
In thin, cheap, tin pans but we're all learning

Somehow, minimum wage is "all the rage"
Scavenge or squander, for this is the age
The century turns and the mass discerns
That our taxes smoke and our money burns

Hard work for many, enjoyment for few
Makes us unseen; faded! A weak, frail blue
Of collars while we passively earn our dollars
Of  greens dimmer than wind's grimmer hollers

Don't stutter in the street, fluttering fleet!
Ban that bullying bureau thunder beat
And drum for the sum of a good , fair share
And a sequel of equal value and flair


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The Source Within

“The Source Within”
Sitting quietly at night sometimes without words
Studying the peaceful river with all the soaring birds

Thanking God for His tempo always being slow
With His endless loving compassion falling down on us like snow
We must see goodness in everything that lives
Because we can be like him is the gift He lovingly gives

Like a tiny drop of ocean being just like where it came
So let us return to our source and give presence to his name

He always will surround us like the planets surround the sun
With the power that pushes stars His work will never be done

The mysteries of the universe will come to us real clear
If we keep ourselves steadfast making sure we do not veer

Yes we have the choice to be right or to be kind
Always pick the latter for it’s the best choice you will find

For the calming of our ego will join us all as one
Let us always keep the faith and let Gods work be done

3/11/2011

Copyright 2011



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Plowers and flowers

As there're no plowers 
who smell like flowers,
so no flowers  
that smell like plowers.

Volodymyr Knyr
2014


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MONDAY

                                                   MONDAY

Woke up on the wrong side of the bed,
There's a mind numbing pain at work in my head.
Wash my hair and comb my face,
Something died in my mouth, where's the toothpaste?

Grab a quick bite of breakfast and rush out the door,
Can't find my car keys, they fell on the floor.
Finally find them and start the car,
I'm gonna be late, well that's about par.

Hit every stop light on the way to work,
Look down and notice there's a stain on my shirt.
Forgot to let Spike out, he's crossing his legs,
Have to go back, this morning's the dreggs.

The absolute bottom, the pitts, it's the worst!
What else could happen, it seems that I'm cursed!
Wait a minute, it's Monday, first day of the week,
No wonder this day has begun so bleak.

Come ahead Monday, get it over with now!
I've got bon bons and chocolates and a little brown cow,
To soothe and to comfort my poor shattered nerves,
And to bind and to buffer the slings and the curves;

Do your worst Monday,
Come on, have a fit,
You can't scare me,
I have chocolate!

                                                        Judy Ball


(Afterall, chocolate is an emotional band aide)


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BOYS IN SCHOOL

BOYS   IN   SCHOOL

Boys in school - I sympathise with them 
They must reorganize their brain stem
They are made to sit in rows
And try to see what each  one knows

We must try to work quietly
Behave always with propriety
No  chasing after  our  neighbour 
Or throwing small objects at the door
Like erasers,  ( ideal for throwing)
We must keep our minds a-growing

No shouting or indeed talking loudly
Write neatly, do all our work proudly.
Do exactly  what  teacher tells you
And be ashamed of that eraser you threw

Let’s understand their predicament.
This is a girls’ environment  
Obviously girls  love it because  as a rule 
Even in free time they like to  play “school”
Ever seen  a  boy  play “school”?  No.
Far from the building’s where he wants to go

There are boy wild seeds to be sown.
Where is the training for him to “stand alone”?
And   “do it his way” like Sinatra?
He’d be better off in a place like Sumatra,
Where the rubber grows for erasers
And the world is full  of pursued and chasers.


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The Way

I Walk, I Walk, 
Alone The Way, 
'You Will Fail'
They Say.

The Way, Full Of Thorns.
I Passed All The Mourns, 
The Way With Many Curve Endings, 
I Complete All, Remaining None, Pending.

Petals Were Also There On The Way, 
I Passed All Night And Day, 
I Walk Carefully Through All Mosses And Hay, 
But Then Also 'You Will Fail'
They Say.

Throughout My Life, I Have Been Walking The Way, 
To Spread My Initial, 'K'
Now Success On My Feet, Lay, 
Now, 'How You Achieved This? '
They Say.............. 


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From The Cotton Fields To The White House

In 1619, “Black Gold” was expedited from the mother land
Shipped to a foreign sand to be servants but America had other plans
For years Royalty was whipped, hung and enslaved to work a brother’s hands
Institutionalized on plantations to picking cotton for another man 
The blood of a slave screams for freedom as his faith is triggered
Degraded with names such a colored, coon, boy and nigger
The cotton fields was a sanctuary for spiritual and psychological therapy
The Jewels sang hymns in hopes to bloom towards the heavens like a buried seed  
Through scorching heat & bondage, there was still value in this black gold
In pursuit of refuge they took route in the underground railroad
Torturous nights were recorded in the pages of Uncle Tom’s cabin
Telling everything that happened, from being beaten to held captive
Proof in our Roots are revealed on a gems back filled with stripes
But the bible prophesized we are healed by the stripes of Christ
So the runaway & revolting slave no longer had to run and hide
A bearded President saw no need for such toil, so it ended in 1865
Racism stilled reigned supreme in most of the American places
Black Gold was beaten again, raped, killed, tortured, hosed and spat in their faces
Limb from limb there were attempts to destroy them
Denied education, Denied to vote, Denied the ability to use what’s in
Imagine having to work from that cotton gin, to scrubbing floors
but they still believed one day they would be able to explore
One piece of jewelry refused to move from her seat, a queen
Another King woke up and spoke loudly about a dream
As a result sacrifice & segregation began to bring forth integration
Between blacks & whites, America began to look like a United Nation
We were allowed education, voter registration, 
Became our own bosses, and finally knew what its like for vacation
The hate turn on ourselves, crime filled jail cells
Mostly populated by African-American males
We were told we shouldn’t and we wouldn’t
Then the stone plagued Washington, taking positions when they thought we couldn’t
Then the unthinkable, the unspeakable came to life in one chant
when a black man stood up and said, “Yes We Can”
Yes we can overcome, Yes we can be one, 
Yes we can survive a struggle, Yes we can when our hearts are troubled 
Yes we can live without doubt, Yes we can is what we shout
Yes we can travel treacherous routes, 
in 2008 yes we can move from the cotton field to the white house!


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WISHING I WAS WITH YOU

I SIT HERE AT WORK WISHING I WAS WITH YOU
INSTEAD OF BEING HERE WITH SO MUCH TO DO

YOUR LOVE FILLS ME WITH HAPPINESS 
YOUR SOFT TOUCH A SWEET CARESS

THE SMILE ON YOUR FACE THE GLEAM IN YOUR EYE
I AM SO GLAD THAT YOU ARE MINE

HOW I LONG TO HOLD YOU TIGHT
BUT INSTEAD I STAY AND WORK THREW THE NIGHT

EVERYTIME I CLOSE MY EYES I SEE YOU THERE
I KNOW IN MY HEART HOW MUCH YOU CARE

MY ONLY WISH IS TO ALWAYS BE WITH YOU
FOREVER AND ALWAYS I WILL BE TRUE

FOR NEVER WILL I HAVE A WONDERING EYE
AND NEVER WILL I HURT YOU OR MAKE YOU CRY

YOU ARE MY LOVER,MY WIFE,AND MY FRIEND
I WILL WORSHIP YOU UNTILL THE VERY END

ILL NEVER STOP TELLING YOU HOW MUCH I CARE
AND IF YOU NEED ME ILL ALWAYS BE THERE

YOUR LOVE KEEPS ME GOING IN THE DARKEST OF DAYS
AND I FEEL YOUR WARMTH IN SO MANY WAYS

FROM THE WAY THAT YOU HOLD ME TO THE WAY THAT YOU SMILE
YOU MAKE ME FEEL HAPPY LIKE IM A CHILD

WHEN IM HERE AND YOUR THERE AND I MISS YOU EVER SO
I THINK ABOUT HOW WHEN I GET HOME IM GONNA HOLD YOU AND NEVER 
LET YOU GO.

THIS POEM IS DEDICATED TO YOU AND IS COMPLETELY SINCERE
I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER DEANNA MY DEAR



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Paw

Some children will never know the feeling of having a wonderful granddad,
Growing up I got to experience all the love and joy you had.
When God created you, he made a great and wonderful man,
Now he has come to call you and take you by the hand.
Sometimes your daily work went from sun to sun,
But the work you did for me was never left undone.
You passed down to me your big blue sparkling eyes,
And even though you're gone, I still feel you by my side.
As a child I shared with you much joy, love and laughter.
The stories that you told always ended happily ever after.
The memories we built together will truly always be.
Thank you for sowing the seeds of faith, hope and love in me.


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Santa

 

Dad, if you see Santa, please tell him for me
That I've been as good as good can be
I always eat my spinach and peas
And I never forget to say "thanks" and "please"
I work hard in school to get a good grade
And I do extra chores without getting paid
I wipe my feet when I come indoors
So I don't track mud on Mom's clean floors
I brush my teeth and comb my hair
And I don't leave my toys scattered everywhere
I wash the dog and play with the cat
And I let little brother wear my baseball hat
I help you on Saturday when you work in the yard
Wow, this being good is really hard
When it's time for bed, I don't fuss and cry
I just fall asleep to your lullaby
Dad, if I see Santa, I'll tell him for you
That you deserve something nice
Because you've been good too
 
 


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Old School Talk



Grandma asked me did I mind going to the store.

I gave her a look as if I wasn't sure.

Grandma begin to start one of her speeches, which really sounds like one of my
teachers.

Grandma begin to say, she had to work hard for her pay, and that I would learn 
what thats like one day.

She said just to buy a can of lard, she had to work in somebody's yard.

Grandma said " When I was young, sometimes being a child wasn't so much fun.

She said she had to study real hard in school , because she wasn't going to be 
nobody's fool.

By the time grandma finished high school, she found out about a new rule.

The rule was she must go to college, to better her education and gain more 
knowledge

Grandma went to college and got her degree,   she said if I follow in her footsteps
that could some day be me.

After that long old school talk, straight to the store I did walk.

I made up in my mind right at that time, if grandma ever ask me to go to the store
I won't give her that look anymore.



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This year's Chores

The grass soon needs mowing, as lime’s placed with care
The bushes, I’ll be trimming, they’ve grown just like hair

The flowers have also grown, they have or are ready to bloom
The trees need pruning as branches now block out the moon

The weeds, well they’re weeds, which I already must tend
The fence rotted through, now that’s something I must mend

The shed door flew off during the brutal winds of winter past
The barbecue had blown over, I was grateful it had no gas

Yeah, the spring it is wonderful for it’s new growth, it’s new life
But, the work that it brings me, brings me nothing but strife