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Best Brother Poems

Below are the all-time best Brother poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of brother poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Brother Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Brother poems are below this new poems list.

Jesus, Whete are you Brother by DeSpirito, Peter
TASHA AND BROTHER by Smith, Elizabeth
My special brother by Bryant, Sarah
EULOGY TO MY BROTHER by Cwiak, Dan
Welcome Back Li'L Brother by Collins, Darrell
I Thought You Were My Brother by Pemberton, Jim
Oh Brother of mine by Schreuder , Hendri
Our brother by Corbally, Stephen
Brother Bruce Tell Me This by Amang, Nguper
More than a Brother by Manassian, Eileen

View all new Brother Poems

The Best Brother Poems

Details | Brother Poem | |

Forgotten Heroes of the Somme

Over the top lads, for old Blighty! Hold the colours high!
Say a little prayer for me, for this summer day we die.
My brothers from the ripened field and blackened mill, shop floor, 
Your brother in a killing field to fight a rich man’s war.

In bloodied mud and shattered wood, fight legions of the brave,
Unwitting youth, you’ll do your duty until you’re in the grave.
A sergeant greets a fresh-faced boy, “welcome to the slaughter!”
Here you die from three diseases, bullet, gas or mortar.

In arms we fight together and in leaden hails we pass,
We die amongst the filth and stench that once was verdant grass.
“In the morning we will remember them” we hear the leaders call,
Those fickle words of history, will not remember us all.

More great poems below...


Details | Brother Poem | |

Forty Today

Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…

the orange tinged carnations 
were a perfect complement 
for the skies
and for you… 
orange and blue
always remind me of you

the winds softly blew
and I just sat there
staring at the grass,
well more at your name really…

hardly believing
what I am looking at, 
that it’s been seven years

of missing you,
of just putting that reality
at the back of my mind…

But there are days,
such as today
which make me 
confront that reality—

I see your smile,
remember your laughter
celebrate your spirit
and your love

Tears, I tell you I have
the most stubborn tears
maybe because they 
make it so real for me?

I look around me
and look for that sign

Nope, not there…

I say a prayer
and speak to you
thankful for the life shared

I kiss the date that you were born

and walk away

my reflection on the car window
misty

One last look around,

and then I see it…

a cat, as we drive away…

Skies now streaked purple and pink


**My brother would have been 40 today, May 6…


Details | Brother Poem | |

Football, Beer, His Car and Kid

-The Same Old SongS-

That's all he ever talks about 


~SKAT~

Details | Brother Poem | |

Standstill

Strangely bent this journey extends
Surreal at times, yet so real at ends
Each end confronts with a hardship of choices
With an abrupt passing, or an eternity of voices...

You and I, once on similar trends
Like brothers, we traversed all evil impends
The wheels then turned, unleashed worst of fears
We parted asunder on an ocean of tears

Through fallen decades, aggrieved heart sustained
I found my calling, forgot I was pained
Just when the going got peaceful and boring
Gales of anguish, and war started pouring

Again, I was forced to extinguish my wills
Left home for those in need of my skills
Forced to welcome the worst of thrills
A reward for one with the highest kills?

As we splattered blood on uncertain causes
Strode down the road of victories and losses
A vessel, merely, I was as I killed
Of sons, of husbands, of fathers, I spilled

In the heat of the battle, as I charged through
When my craving eyes met the eyes of you
That instant, that second, that moment, I knew
Neither decades nor ages could help subdue

My faltering sword could no longer fight
For whom I now behold in my sight
And I question my vow, having vowed despite
Whether or not my cause was right

Yet again, I stand on the recurring hill
In the midst of havoc, at a standstill
A piece of land that I swore to defend
Is it worth the life of a brother, a friend?

Details | Brother Poem | |

Simply time to go, a little brother's lamentation

Too hard for me to say goodbye
For all apparent reasons why
Even though we all know it must be
Each heart will someday stop the beat
When the rhythm of life, and silence, finally meet
.
Yet I always seem so surprised 
To find that death is part of life 
Knowing that regret, will now haunt my every rhyme 
The specter called "if only", will inhabit every line.
Wish I could arbitrate a deal to have gained a little time
Just one more talk with Sissy, to ease my guilty mind. 
.
And the sun now sets on my regrets
I gamble on time and lose each bet
Thinking I'll move on and yet, 
here I set . . .
Wishing for one more time 
One more pun
One more smile 
That will never come 
.
If I could just recall the things you said that mattered to you most.
Memories un memorized
That now I'll never know
Years of conversation when I didn't pay attention
Times I should have said I love you 
And somehow failed to mention
.
Then when you tried to tell me you felt your time was drawing near
Your selfish little brother pretended not to hear.
Even when you did your best,  and tried to let me know
You'd made your peace and you were ready, and that for you . . . 
It was simply time to go

More great poems below...


Details | Brother Poem | |

WE ARE JUST HUMAN BEINGS

                                
                              
                                   ***

                 Mans's colour is purely geographical
                  Not just the matter only biological
               For continents drifted due to a process
              People went to polar zone to live on icicle


              Thus they got white due to temperature low
            Coloured are those remained on equator below
               Got dark of heat which they did absorb
              Adaption was only solution they did follow

                Thus it's a matter of millennia ago
              Let's not fight due to our immense ego
               We are different from the fauna rest
                  Brotherhood is our ultimate logo

                       Racism or apartheid
                 It's always been a cruel deed
                      For it killed humanity
             And humanity excells caste and creed

                   The Almighty has no bias
                 He calls everyone to His dais
                  For our blood is just asame
                Ensure all stomachs full of rice

              To save the clan of homo sapiens
                Stay away from being ruffians
                 Let's dole out benevolence
            The King warned against the aliens

             "We have no fangs and no stings
            Explore the peace, spread the wings
                Stay away from retaliation
             For we are truly human beings..!!"


                          ********
Glossary:

       The King = Martin Luther King Jr.

       Aliens = common problems / issues faced by all.

Details | Brother Poem | |

I am

I am mother (father) sister daughter
Favourite aunt, SELDOM rant
Pan Flute player, dragon slayer 
Own nothing pink, at least I think
Teach Sunday school, kids find that cool
I am not to lean, I’m sure you’ve seen
Curly hair, I seldom swear
But if I do, God help you
Sing in a choir, now I’m on fire
Love my dog, I want a blog
I am very kind, at least in my mind
Love good movies, never been much of a sleaze
I just gave you a look inside my book
So for now I take a bow.

I am female
Sorry I just found a fluffy beautiful pink bath robe.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.06.2014
Frank Herrera’s Contest:
I am
2nd

Details | Brother Poem | |

My Fallen Brother

White marble stones Stand proud in the sun To remember my colleagues The heroic fallen ones Many a battle Many a campaign Some did return For some never the same On the green grass I stand Blue sky above The souls of my comrade's Like peaceful sitting doves The name on this stone Reminds me of the day My best friend and brother Was taken away An offensive was launched Brothers at war Bunker to take At the top of a tor Smoke screen exhausts the view to the hill As we wind our way through Zipping bullets, blood spill Noises of lead, as they rip through the flesh As we hit the barbed wire Now a scarlet stained mesh Objective in sight as we approach our aim As I hear the groan of the injured Many dead, maimed Grenade pin pulled Bunker window we lob Hands sweating How many lives will we rob Explosion flash, shouts of pain As the smoke lifts on this bloody terrain We enter the Bunker To witness our task The enemy lie distorted Faces grimace, death mask I turn to my brother to signal it's safe As a shot rings out in this theatre place He stands still for a moment Eyes glazing and cold The death of my sibling At 19 years old As I open my eyes and turn to my son I see what I have as he holds my grandson Family values, love and a bond As I remember my brother Of whom I was so fond I proudly walk past, salute as I go The white stones standing proud Peaceful doves in a row I find myself fortunate to stand here and tell To talk of my brother, and the fallen as well .

Details | Brother Poem | |

The Truth Room

Come with me my Brother,
to a secret place where Light and Shadow line the face with fear and grace,
leave sophmoric style, wry smile and sly bile on the road of your forgotten mile,
sick sarcasm is the symptom of envy, a pet to your heart destroyer,
such artifice and malice have no language in this room of roasted dreams,

Enter through the damaged door, touch the destruction of vandals,
you have never been here before, where gold blood cuts the floor,
do you see how the walls move like squalls at our approach,
feel how they tell stories with the sensations of defeat, anxiety, impropriety,
in here we witness a collection of seperate yet synthesized segments of Self,
childhood torment, shallow manhood, virility limp as stolen victory,
underachievement, the underbelly of your arrogance, flacid like placid passion,

We journey further into this gallery of emotional gallows
smelt by the hurt of innumerable adavances
repelled by the demands of Quality,
you will writhe wildly
from the harrowing healing leeching into your concepts of self control,
graceful in absorbtion of Truth's attrition,
fruitless ambition shall now cling as cleaving contrition,
your face Brother, look long into the shimmer of sorrow become the old,
tattooed you are like a snake's skin checkered and beautiful
with scaled episodes of submission and aggression, dying to be Divine,
I want you to know that there is no exit of ease from this place Brother,
we trek within your very Soul,
this is the home and harbor of everything you've decided to be,
there are other rooms here, some of joy and some of strife,
but you leave not the Truth Room of your anger
until the Light finds no fault in your intention -

J.A.B.

Details | Brother Poem | |

Meeting The Soupers

"Your first poem was an 
excellent poem....you are 
welcome...." Commented 
skat on my first poem.
"Wonderful and deep 
poem....you are welcome 
to poetry soup..." That 
was Poet Destroyer.
"Wow you have touched 
my heart in a special way 
with your poem.....your 
new friend Leonora 
Galinta" said Galinta.
"Well penned" said 
kithinji and so many 
special poets.
Hearty words from these 
unique poets spurred me 
to write better poems.
Which they appreciate.
Poetry soup is safe haven 
where feelings and 
emotions are expressed 
in tangible forms.
An educational enclave 
where different forms of 
knowledge are 
exchanged like two 
hands washing eachother.
Am most humbled to 
meet these dazzling 
gems radiating warmth 
like the sun-a privilege it 
is connect to parts of the 
planet.
I believe we all will meet 
someday,not in the after 
life.
Leonora Galinta is an 
angel to meet,whom I 
admire amongst others.
Love to set my eyes on 
her delicate and graceful 
nature. See her graceful 
carriage, feel her gentle 
hands and smiles as she 
exudes sweetness. I pray 
hand of time will 
backwards when that 
day appears as we walk 
in the woods leading to 
silent deep blue sea with 
gentle breeze 
whispering...... A prolific 
writer as well.
PD will I meet 
someday,love her 
amiable nature,full of 
grace and charm. A 
prolific poetess.
Skat is lovely with her 
immeasurable words of 
encouragement.
Kithinji will I love to 
behold,to learn from him.
Have drink with Robin,
Alian, shake akinyemi, 
stroll with Joe, hv a hike 
with
Sibanda, dine with Ralph 
and you.
Saying hi and hugs to 
Paz Samelo.
Meeting the soupers is 
making a happy family.
   Am gliding like the 
eagle,soaring higher as 
the day pass by.          
you soupers are my 
strength.








Name:Ifeanyi Bob 
Ekechukwu.
(Baron Of Ebullion)

Details | Brother Poem | |

SASSY AND FINE

Sister girl 
African pearl
Such finesse
So much, you have to give.
Yes, you are beautiful!

Are you paying attention to me?
Nile I am.
Dark and handsome man and confident…

For the love of God
In this real world
Never have I 
Ever exploded with deep words of lust!

Sophisticated woman
After thoughts
Savoring your body
Suc-cor your tongue
Young and free!
	
Affixed to your smile
Nectar
Depths of passion!

Feel me
Indigo blue
Nice fit on you
Enriched this day!

Such words of desire
Ask you to be a part of my life.
So real to happiness
Seductive I am.
Yearn for me!

Apex to
New elevations for
Deep sensations!

Finding each other is not a sure coincidence.
Inspire by other elements
Nadirs we are not.
Essence we are.
__________________________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 27, 2014!
FORM: TRIPLE ACROSTIC

Details | Brother Poem | |

Brother Of The Quill

Brother of the Quill
Join me in a dance
For mother sings nightly
And father sleeps within a trance
Deerskin feet 
they'll never hear our steps
Through hemlock and the fields of wheat
All night long we will dance
Moon Mother lights our way
And our ancestors shine as bright stars
We will run as the wolves
And sing from our hearts
Brother of the Quill
Join me in a prance
We will shoot stars with our arrows
And wish for another dance
Deerskin tents
They'll never hear the swish
Of when we sneak back in
And fall asleep before Father wakes again

Details | Brother Poem | |

Remission (In Memory of William Watt).

Birth begins the tragedy in us. Life's
First sound is a blank scream
Against sorrow's hidden portends of strifes
All we know are mirages and dream.

Mother took the news staring at the sky
She must have cried inside
For I have no evidence else. There's no why
For it ... how my rage defied
Her callous front ... he was her first boy
The only hero she spoke well
Of, his name was the formula for joy
In our house: anecdotes tell
Of his escapades ... youth defying fate
He had a cat's tenacity for life
And from evil wills found a golden gate
Of scholarship and exotic wife.


I remember when the years pulled him back
All he came with was a bag
Of books, and a couple suits in novel sack
His eyes time warped, a lag
Of missing years and loneliness enfolding him
But he was handsome still
And my soul cartwheeled at joy's fresh brim
Those moments that he filled
When eyes first contact spelled pride to claim
This aristocrat like a medal
I could wear. So young he was, her true flame
The son of love's sweet recital!

And many days sitting in his shadow, I heard
Him dream big things like stars
Far away, warm things like a fluttering bird
Things made bright to cover scars
In the sore of memory. His mind was his cliff
A risky place in the high winds
And closer to the edge for the Grail he'd drift
O how the giddy world spins!
He died in Kingston: William came and went
And my mother looked at the sky
But until she died, about his memory was silent
And I forever wonder why.

I loved him, you know, he was the first best thing
A poor child had to claim or show
The world ... with him I was no more common. A king
He made me in his gold of glow
Something that I looked forward to meet in me. I,
Like mother, been silence since
But sometimes my heart just heave and would cry
For time this love cannot rinse
And I that moment cannot comprehend, that death
Gave no notice to his lauded day
And like common dust on a wild wind's balmy breath
My brother was swiftly swept away.

Details | Brother Poem | |

How You Make The Stars Hush

There is something about 
The way you face your day
With a heart of gold
And such a giving way.

There is something about
The way you endure your pain
As if the stroke 
Didn’t harm your brain

There is something about
The life you live
Loving like there will be no tomorrow
And living to forgive

There is something about
The brother you are
And the son you have been
That makes us more proud by far

It is everything about
The garden you grow
With sweat and tears
As the fruits to others you bestow

It is everything about 
A body half paralyzed
That can produce gifts of woodwork
That leaves us mesmerized.

It is everything about
Your speech so limited
Yet communication 
For you is unlimited.

It is everything about
Your inner soul
That has inspired me
To be so much more

It is you my brother
In all that you do
That have made the stars
Hush for me too.

I have been blessed to have such a brother

Contest:  How you make the stars hush
Justin Bordner

Details | Brother Poem | |

Black History Month

Why is it called 'Black History Month'
Black means void of light
why because we are nonwhite
this should be voted out
because the name Human Race 
carries more weight
Sure, I understand
it is a way of denouncing the browner skinned man
Why is it there are tanning booths
for the lighter or paler skinned people of the world
they would rather call us 'boy' or 'girl'
Well, the fact remains we are really the majority
who else is given one entire month to give high esteem to for the accomplishments
of the so-called minority
In all actuality every time that you use your dryer thank G.T. Sampson
or stop at a traffic light thank G. Morgan
you are thanking God Almighty for blessing the person who you call 'black' for the ability to create these valuable worthwhile necessities
So, when you hear of someone having an open heart surgery thank the man of the human race with the browner skin for being the first to perform the first one
Ah, the victories we have won
do not frown
do not fret God will get you, yet
to admit that deep in your heart
we all play a part
in the world being 'it takes all kind to make it go around'
no one is better than the next
however, when you get ready to text
think about Mr. H.T. Sampson who invented it for your leisure
pleasure maybe even a luxury
Or when your horse needs a shoe say a silent 'thank you' to J. Ricks
Can we all just get along 
became a catchy realistic reachable phrase from a lighter skinned man who was beaten almost to a bloody  pulp for being a man you called 'black' by those of a different shade of skin
jealousy, hatred, discrimination, alienation, poverty, hunger, envy, degradation and demoralization has been shared even experienced by all race
the Human Race



Details | Brother Poem | |

Galaxies Came Between

He'd be typing away on his desk
with blueprints for the next big thing,
While I'd be staring off into the azure sky
appreciating the "insignificant" things

You really are a genius
in your field of technicalities,
with which you thoroughly water;
A wife, a place of your own,
and a destination in mind

Me?

You'll find me in the corner
(no not a corner... think rounded edges,
much more safe)
Half past ten, still in bed,
with rolls of cash in a Ziploc bed
(I'm not dealing and I'm sorry if I gave you that
impression... more likely
just a descendant of Scrooge)

Your perfectly organized life
(my just screw it attitude)
Well I must say you are on your way,
but where exactly too?

I solemnly wish
we had, but one thing
in common, dearest brother,
Even with the knowledge
that I wrote this for you
I'm sure deep down
you'd think this quite sappy

And being the person that I am
I'd immediately think of tree metaphors
(now what what rhymes with cedar?)

And being the person you are
you'd probably just go about your day
wondering about the latest Apple product

You live next door
and yet somehow
galaxies came between us,
Practical you gathered sticks and stones
for your shelter here on Earth

(I was too busy daydreaming
on Mars)

From the moment I opened my eyes
and peaked my little head out
from the pool in the backyard,
we were brothers, through and through

... so why do I have this nagging urge
to shake your hand and ask



"Have we met?"

Details | Brother Poem | |

Ryan, Where Are You

            
Ryan, Where are You?
Hey Ryan, where are you? It’s been a while since the tragic summer of August 1992. Not even a final adieu – Not a single word of good-bye, Just leaving us high and dry. How could you just up and disappear? Like a dark shadow in a grey mist not really there. Gone to heaven or God knows where? Ryan, did you think we wouldn’t care? One day here – The next day gone; You always said that tomorrow’s not promised to anyone. Now, you’ll never get to see another glorious sunset or dawn.
They told me you were run over by a Brooklyn-bound train. Neither the police nor the coroner could adequately explain - Was death instantaneous or did you suffer any pain? Who’s to blame? An untimely death - Was it your fate you met? At birth, did the Three Fates your destiny set? Or were you just in the wrong place at the wrong time, An innocent bystander who hadn’t committed any crime? So cruel Atropos used her shears to sever the thread of your life, And the incredible pain of losing you continues to cut deep like a butcher’s knife. But, my dear brother, your treasured memory we will carry with us always, Through your children and in our hearts ‘till the end of our days!
Entered in contest "Favorite Poem You've Ever Written" sponsored by Carol Eastman (6-14-2014)

Details | Brother Poem | |

A Truly Inspiring Story

(this write is inspired by the real story of a homeless man who found a student's bag with two thousand nine hundred dollars cash in it. the student was bringing it to pay his tuition fees. without hesitation the homeless man used the information in the bag to return the student his belongings.) void loyd, he’s a bum smells of rum. covered in stink no kitchen sink he got nothing  he’s recovering come see it’s free. void loyd, he’s a bum smells of rum. scum!, right?, no light? hey buddy can you spare a dime? face it, wouldn’t give him the time. finds a sack gives it back twenty-nine hundred in cash didn’t keep it but isn’t he trash? void loyd, he’s a bum smells of rum. what did the student think his fingers covered in ink pockets his money calls his honey tells her loudly proclaims proudly ‘can’t judge a cover by its book, listen to me here’s the hook. school smart or street smart it comes down to the heart. that man lives in a ditch but sweetie he is rich. you have to take a second look never judge a cover by its book.’ void loyd, he’s a bum smells of rum.
8~29~2014 Sponsor: gautami phookan Contest Name: Sketch a Character

Details | Brother Poem | |

one race

The firmament above, beneath we exist,
This diversity in divine artistry
Same eyes divers sizes
Different skin same sin
Different color same honor
Same human same humor
Why try to sort out maize from corn? They are all same
Cus just one shot, your race wont spare you

Details | Brother Poem | |

Home Of The Hang Man

Home Of The Hang Man

The children are so full of doubt
No one is allowed to speak
No one is allowed to shout
Opinions are driven underground
Seems that every time they do it wrong
Always been the same old song
Never get it right
Never allowed to speak
Never allowed to fight

It’s a strange house
The children are so full of doubt
A strange house

The kids just don’t understand
They don’t see that this is the way it’s all been planned
Keep them frightened is the game
Then all those “other” things won’t need to be explained
Why is big brother always mad
Why is younger brother always sad
Why does he sit in his bedroom all alone
Because it’s a strange house
And not a home

It’s a strange house
The children are so full of doubt
A strange house

Everything they do or say
Is turned into to a weapon to build upon the barricade
And Dad pretends he’s not afraid
Of the sudden discovery of suffocated memories
The dark deeds linger in a cage
Of ridicule and violence that makes the babies cry
So Mum has buried her suspicions worryings away
In Sunday lunches usual farce
A make believe gathering of corrupted loving and pretended merry making

It’s a strange house
The kids are so full of doubt
A strange house




Big brother hit the self destruct
With pills and needles long before he decided he was gay
No one ever asked him why he was so mad
And  no one ever asked why younger brother was so sad
He sits up stairs in his room 
Surviving in a sea of doubt
The suffocated memories have all come out
He’s always sad and he’s always alone
The babies to they both have grown
But he doesn’t know them anymore
It’s been so long since he left that so called home

It’s a strange home
The children are so full of doubt
A strange house

Their children are so full of doubt
Brought up and made this way
All their futures turn to grey
As all the buried memories fight their own way out
Remember why they always felt so wrong
Remember what happened when we were young
And mother just closed her eyes she did not help
All the future turns to grey
Brought up and made to be this way

Father was the hang man who took their lives away




Details | Brother Poem | |

Bouncebackability

Born I was, still alive today, down, but I'll be back to say Even at a small age, when our house burnt to the ground Disorientated, confused, in it's smoke filled surround With no other place to go, to a Caravan we called our home It was the events after this, that allowed my mind to roam Little me playing in a field, on a broken bottle I fell Crimson fountains erupted, I survived, as I'm here to tell That Monday night so special, Boys Brigade we headed to be I tried to run faster, but my brother was faster than me Out of the opening he went, boy running, was he skilled He was there, but gone the next, knocked down, my brother killed My mind now in roam and wander, fathers health started to slide Where does a seven year old turn to, to whom does he confide Pillar to post I headed, fostered out, and to children's homes Six years later many more tears, my father in deathly roam To my father I kept my promise, to the Royal Navy I would go Whilst training, caught under a raft, my life nearing slow Pulled from the water was I, nearly drained of what little I had A release of water, a gasp of air, hours later feeling so glad Eventually what I'd always wanted, to be happy and family be Married to the girl whom I'd know, would love to marry me But to a colleague I'd declared my worries, of a phone call I'd take For History would repeat itself, to awaken to a possible wake That call finally arrived, to the telephone, speaking to my eldest son Liam his younger brother, knocked down, my tears in run I'm blessed that he was saved, which cancelled out that call I only wish that technology was, that I'd have a firewall This is me up to date, apart this last weekend Again I thought I lost my youngest, once again relieved of strain Hours up at the Hospital, the first human skull I've seen A serious cut to his head, but what it could have been This my life's chapter, around the corner we never know But all I can say to the above, around me continues to glow .

Details | Brother Poem | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
 
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell


Details | Brother Poem | |

I Wish You'd Grow Faster

"Boy! We're gonna be the best of friends! Lying here, I watch you sleeping, I sure hope that this will not be a trend 'Cause when we play ball,the goal you'll be keeping Since Mommy told me you would be coming I've been waiting for a very long time Now each day I see how much you're growing Imagine the joy of knowing you're here and are mine! From the first moment you arrived home I've noticed when you sleep, time goes pretty slow And sometimes, you seem to sleep just like a stone! But that's ok! Mommy says sleeping makes you grow I smile as I imagine the two of us at play And picture in my mind the many things we'd learn We'll pet horses at the zoo and feed them hay Come Christmas we'll buy gifts with money we'll earn I love you, my 'lil brother, Lucas I wish you'd hurry up and grow Yes, we will be causing some rocus I'll teach you all you need to know!" ~*~
By Annalise 04/29/11 FOR: Miranda Lambert's "Brotherly Love" Contest (Inspired by photo of Logan as he watches his baby brother, Lucas sleeping)

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AChristmas Story

Christmas Eve in the Gardner household
With mum’s prep for next day going well,
When her two boys, 9 and 7, began to fight
And Mike, her oldest, decided to tell

His brother Kenny, that there was no Santa
“Yes there is,” yelled Kenny, “that’s a lie!”
“No it’s not,” said Mike, “it’s just dad dressed up.”
Mike went quiet, and then started to cry

Mum came through when she heard the commotion
And asked Kenny, why he was so sad
“Mike told me that there is no Santa.”
She turned to Mike and told him, “That’s bad.”

“Well there isn’t,” said Mike, “it’s you and dad
Who put our presents under the tree,
At least, that’s what they’re all saying at school
And what Jimmy Jones told me.”

“And you believe everything Jimmy Jones says?”
Mum asked Mike taking charge of the situation,
Knowing that Jimmy was known for his lies
Perhaps she could use him, as damage limitation

Mike thought for a while; then he quietly said
“No I don’t, because he sometimes tells lies.”
Then he went over, and gave his brother a hug
Saying, “I’m sorry I made you cry,

It’s Christmas Eve, you shouldn’t be sad
Santa’s coming to bring us new toys.”
And with peace restored, they ran up to their rooms
Mum went back to work, thinking, ‘Boys!’

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Helga Deen ,1925-1943

Helga Deen  (1925-1943)   (Sentanka)

Mit achtzehn ermordet
Helga Deen im KZ Sobibór
Nur Tagebuch und Briefe

War alles was von ihr blieb
Ihr Andenken aber bleibt 


Murdered at eighteen
Helga Deen at Sobibór 
Only letters and diary

Was all that remained of her
But her memory remains


Helga Deen en Sobibor
Asesinado a dieciocho años
Sólo cartas y un diario

Fue todo lo que quedaba 
Pero su memoria sigue siendo



Note: Helga Deen, born in 1925 in Stettin moved with her parents in 1933 to Tilburg in the
Netherlands. She was a talented young woman not only in writing but also in drawing. Her
mother was a German Jewish doctor and her father-Willy Deen- a Dutch chemist. Helga Denn
had a brother -Klaus- and both visited school in Tilburg. The family had to move from
their house and Helga an her brother had to leave school together with other ten Jewish
pupils. In July 1943 all were deported to the Vugh concentration camp. From there they
were transpoted to Westerbork concentration camp and from there on July 13th  to Sobibór
(Poland) concentration camp. She died from gas there on July 16th 1943.