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Best Friendship Poems

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

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New Friendship Poems

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

FRIENDSHIP UNENDING by ogufere, emmanuel
True Friendship by Walker, Chante
friendship bridges by Chabriere, rene
Friendship On Fire by Aldana, Jacob
True Friendship by Stover, Christy
Walking Friendship by McLeod, Trevor
Eternal Friendship by Berkache, Ikram
Politics and Friendship by Price, Franklin
True Friendship by Unknown, Unknown
Broken Friendship by Gangabissoon, Anoucheka

View all new Friendship Poems

The Best Friendship Poems

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Best Friend Defined

What's a best friend,
But the smell before rain?
The hand that we give,
When a friend is in pain

It's the things that we do,
The words that we say
That pulls a friend through,
When their heart's torn away

It's the steps that we take,
The songs that we sing
It's the choices we make,
And the hope that we bring

I'm here through the tears,
I'm here through the laughter,
I'll always be here
Until death, and after

It's the things we give up;
The things we give in
When our heart's full of love,
And selfless begins

It's the hearts that we touch,
The things that we won't
We never give up,
We could, but we don't

It's the people we save,
With the hands that we give
When we're lost, we still say,
You're my reason to live

I'm here through the tears,
I'm here through the laughter
I'll always be here,
Until death, and after


Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2010

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POETS

When all around is darkness
Who provides the sun
When everyone is serious
Who is poking fun
When pollution clouds the bright blue sky
Who brings clarity
Who tries to bring some common sense
To mass insanity
When people kill for a belief 
Who is pointing fingers
When bullies push their weight around
Who is the first gunslinger
Who sees the heavenly beauty
In Mother Nature's charm
When the house of cards goes up in flames
Who sounds the fire alarm
When depression comes and pulls you in
Who writes you words of comfort
When they can't think of rhyming words
Who makes up words like bumfort
Who puts their feelings into words
With sonnets from the heart
Who describes a garbage dump
With a color chart
Whose imagination
Can jump from sea to star
Or describe the pungent odor
Of their grandpa's stale cigar
What people share a common bond
Make pictures out of words
It's a talent that we happily share
Let every voice be heard
As wordsmiths we are special
Cause we feel what others see
Let's weave our threads together
Show the world our tapestry


   September 26 2016




Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016

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The one known as Destroyer

Ohh the days have been many here
but that day her name was seen
struck a fear deep inside.
Could she really be that mean?

Time passed as her name 
echoed in my head aloud.
I looked at her work in amaze
at how beautiful she can inspire
the words in poems she wrote.

Soon we were souper friends 
continue to inspire others work
so they would become the best.
 Contest she made work
so all could see the finest.

She will be missed here
but a destryoer she was not here.

Dedicated to my best friend  the poet destroyer


Copyright © Michael Byte | Year Posted 2014

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Under the Same Moon -3-Way-Collaboration-

 ~Under the Same Moon~

P.D.
Our days are different, living under the same moon
Down here in TEXAS, life carries a different tune
This world spins on its lovely axis
Listening to our Tex-Mex of our English lexis
We share a world made with the trust of God's hand
Revealing the beauty that life continue to expand
Don't underestimate our football image of our Cow Boy land
A mysterious Mockingbird only we Texans understand
Surrounded by the sweetest Pecan trees
The Northern Winters come in like a breeze and a tease
We also have them Blue Bonnet fields that come and go
Tell me about CANADA, what makes its motion flow?
Branded like a Long Horn, with my Lone Star State pride
How about you, CHRIS A. What's up on your side?

Chris D.Aechtner
Different lives, different lands, living under the same moon,
waking up to the ghostly calls of the wild loon.
Look upon mountains and forests stretching into infinity-
mighty Sequoias and tall Douglas firs stand majestically.
I could offer stereo-typical images of hockey, snow and moose,
or sockeye salmon, maple syrup and the great Canadian goose,
but we Canucks are becoming tired of idly standing by
as the rest of the world dips its fingers into our Northern pie.
We are a nation of peaceful, open-minded hospitality,
shying away from brutality by offering liberal neutrality.
Before I blow my top as my strong emotions collide,
I should definitely step away from my nationalistic pride,
and ask about the Philippines and its tropical flair-
how about you Nikko, what is happening over there?

NIKKO P.
Oceans away, here I am, living under the same moon
Sun’s rising over there; here, dish runs away with the spoon
My sleep is whacked, so I’m wide awake when you are,
amazing how we can all be in one place even if we’re all very far
Where islands form the shape of an old man, waters hug our shores
Tropical Paradise here, when you explore the great outdoors
Awesome sunsets, bountiful fiestas, the warmest smiles to greet you...
We here just love to eat when there’s nothing else to do!
Colorful rice cakes, freshest seafood, the most succulent mangoes~
Sunny days or rainy days, the creativity here just flows.
Resilient. This is a word that pops to mind when I think of us Filipinos-
We bend and bounce back, no matter how hard the wind blows.
This is just a sneak peek, but I’d love to know more about Utah
Care to share what’s on your side, my dear friend Andrea?

      ( 3 Way Collaboration )


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010

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Together we are strong

Oh my distant friend come, let me take care of your broken soul let my arms be your shelter - your sanctuary the path ahead may seem obscure hold my hand - let me guide you home don't be nervous - you can rely upon me take my strength, hope and spirituality let them be the foundations for stability there will be days full of darkness but you have the power to conduct light deep within your heart - the will to survive sometimes... you will want to give up but, remember I need you, your friendship is so special we need you - you brighten up our day they need you - your love is irreplaceable together we can sing words of wisdom when you are drowning, let me be your bridge over troubled water I won't pretend - I will stand by you - I get angry too lean on me - we all have pain - we all have sorrow any day of the week.... I'll be there - you just gotta call Be at peace my friend... Together we are strong Dedicated to a special friend..


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

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There is still beauty

Listen to poem:
Friends, do not forget: there is still beauty
When the darkness comes and shadows fall,
Music, Art, and nature, gentle comforts
When despair is deep and hope is small.

Friends, do not forget: there is still laughter
When we’ve finished choking down our tears,
When the world seems full of desolation
And we grit our teeth and face our fears.

Friends, do not forget: they have not taken
Kindness, love and friendship from our hearts.
If we can resist the hate and anger,
Maybe we can be where healing starts.

We will rise again tomorrow morning,
Sunshine follows even darkest night.
Think of this when you feel close to breaking
As we walk the long road to the light.

November 2016



Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2016

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You Know

Yes, my dear, you know, You are my source of joy, rejuvenation, hope I need your emotion spread onto my life, I need your heart to sing among the darkness surrounding Do not let our words run dry Together, in strength, we will always know And now you know, So smile, be joyous, and kiss these candid truths For they proclaim your greatness to the universe In shouts of glory, in loving whispers, On every shine of ocean shivers, You know You will always know I love you for you
To all my poetic friends, this poem is dedicated to you! This includes: David Breidenthal, Sharon Breidenthal, Rebecca Larkin, Justin A. Bordner, Just That Archaic Poet(Chan), HGarvey Daniel Esquire, James Peranteau, Guillermo Soto, Mystic Rose(Vienna), Dan Kearley, Liam Mcdaid, Kim Patrice Nunez, Rob S, Jack Ellison, Duke Beaufort, Drake Eszes(Gabriel), Davina Browne, Gary Bateman , Kyle Carlson, John Fleming, Peter Walsh, Sarah Kendrick, Jade Celeste(Eileen), Mikey Scribner, Bindu Vijayan, Don Johnson, Jake Ponce, FJ Thomas, Jan Allison, Emile Pinet, Honestly J.T, Stephen Kilmer, SKAT A, Tim Ryerson, Richard Lamoureaux, Maurice Yvonne, Giorgio A.V, Lyric Man, Mustapha Mohammed, Justin Connor, Tim Smith, Poet Destroyer A (Linda), Olive Eloisa Guillermo, James Marshall Goff, Hannington Mumo, scott thirtyseven, Judy Kronos, Eve Roper, Sandra Haight, Gautami Phookan, Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, Connie Marcum Wong,Rightly Jennings Nathan Fehr, Devin Irving, Robert L. Hinshaw, Ralph Taylor,Tanja Vermaak,Nicole Viernes,Neva Romaine, Anne Lise Andreson, Nandita Das, Funom Makama, Kevin Leake, Tammy Reams, Dean Marais, David Meade, Debbie Guzzi, Peter Holmes, Sunflower Poetess, Dr.Upma A. Sharma, William Gray, Rajat Kanti Chakraba Rty, Courtney Courtney, Cherl Dunn, David Brown, Casarah Nance, Paul Callus, Ronald Zammit, Jiril Clemons, Carl Fraser, Afolabi Muideen, Dr. Ram Mehta, Shadow Hamilton, Donovan Willis, Cynthia Ferguson, Ed Ebbs, Nette Onclaud, Cindy Cayton, Wayne Riley, Muhammad Safa Thajudeen, Sheri Fresonke Harper, Yeisiel Rios, Chelsea Chords, David Mohn, Gerald Moise, Verlena S. Walker, Kelly Deschler, Ettie Christian, Arild Andresen Ertsland, Malik Yaseen, Kurdt Cohen, Arlene Smith, Karl Marszalowicz, Pace INK-U-SCRIPT, Elly D. A. Wouterse, Pandita Sanchez, Elisabeth Wesley, Carrie Richards, John Loving iii, Andrea Dietrich, Chris D. Aechtner, Robert Petitt, Jay Loveless, KJ Force, Vicky Tsiluma, Craig Cornish, Johnney Rhinem, Keith Bickerstaffe, David Scott, The Situation, Red Fiery, Painted Hunter, Harry Horseman, Edward Orozco, Wayland Bunch, Wally Flint ,James Horn...and so many more!!!


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

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The moon pours white wine

At a table in a garden, on a soft, sweet, summer's night
Two friends are sitting talking by the moon's reflected light.
On the table in the garden there are glasses but no drink
And the friends are sitting talking, but they often stop to think.
The topics that they cover seem to range so far and wide
And the glasses sit there empty, since they left the drink inside.
The night is getting cooler but the friends stay close and warm,
The moon just looks down calmly, she has magic to perform.
As he leans across to kiss her, and she kisses him as well,
The friendship starts to blossom into something more to tell.
The tension in the garden needs assistance to decline
So the silver crescent of the moon leans down to pour white wine.


Copyright © Jeff Green | Year Posted 2009

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Windowpanes

An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and 
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of 
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field 
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community 
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound 
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the 
evening to be appropriate for the purpose. 
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical 
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that 
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the 
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by 
our café.

When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew, I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true, A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent. I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more. Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore, The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry, As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by. The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes. The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve. My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before. She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside, And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride. Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart, For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part. Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear. The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years, Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears, When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew, And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.


Copyright © Jim Fish | Year Posted 2009

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DO NOT CRY





Come my friend, 
Do not cry
For
Tears blur your vision of life,
Distorting thus reality    
 
Come, my friend,
Wipe your tears and see how
Clearer the world appears:
The shapes sharper
The colors brighter
The flowers softer
The sounds more melodious
The scents more aromatic  

Come my friend,
Smile and you will enjoy more 
Nature’s beauty:
The majestic mountains
The green valleys
The impenetrable forests
The mighty rivers
The endless seas

Come, my friend,
Laugh and tell me, aren’t: 
Your pains subsided?
Your fears minimized?
Your hopes augmented?
Your doubts reduced?
Your dreams intensified?

Come my friend,
Together we are going to face life, by:
Crying, smiling, laughing, fighting, loving,
Living and dying. 

Come, my friend,
You are not alone anymore for I am 
Next to you and next to you I will stay,
No matter what may come
For
I wish to help you
So out of this adventure, that life we call, you
To emerge victorious! 




© Demetrios Trifiatis
   12 November 2015
  


POD


Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2015

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Friendship

You said age's only a number, beauty's skin deep
Wise words to live by, now if I could only sleep
Humor never can be taken away, have no regrets
Live like there's no tomorrow, an elephant never forgets

Since the day we met, things have been so right
Thankful for our meeting, making spirits bright
No more feeling lonely, no more feeling stressed
Friendships have started, I am feeling blessed

Not a day has passed without a smile on my face
Feeling happy has now become commonplace
Brought together by chance or was it by fate
Any way you put it, my friend, you are truly great





Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014

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Thirty-Eight, Cancer Poem: For Sharon

Thirty Eight ( Corny Cancer Poem) For Sharon

Hallmark has a million cards in their catalog
And not one of them says,
Life Sucks
American greetings had nothing that says
Thirty-eight and  Never coming home
So I hope it’s not too late to write this poem


After your eighth round of Chemo,
The Doctor says the best medicine is prayer
Any Pre-med drop out
Or High school Health student
Can interpret what this means
But it still just isn’t fair-


           Still who am I to be a pessimist?


And I apologize for screaming at your surgeons
(Telling  them to stop comparing 
your tumors to fruit)
For telling them you aren’t a damn fruit stand
Even for tossing those fruit diagrams 
In the Hazmat can

Sorry if I let things get out of hand

Tomorrow they get to pull out
Their zapper instruments
And shoot at your cells like you are
One of those Nintendo video games
Over and over again
And I get to sit in the waiting room
Hoping the red cells surrender
And the white ones win

  
And Tylenol has a zillion dollars
And can’t even find a cure for cancer
Bayer pharmaceuticals has no answer

And if you die at thirty-eight
I’ll probably boycott Tylenol
For the next twenty-three years
Advil for the next twenty-two
Blaming both of them
For not saving you


Forty calls to Bayer pharmaceuticals 
And not a single one returned
What kind of heroes are they
When they aren’t even concerned?


And I’m pissed off at Obama
And Dr. Phil and Oprah too
And all Nationally syndicated talk show host
Who are talking about who slept with who
When they should be talking about 
YOU


I’m also ticked at a thousand Nazis
And twenty millions gangbangers 
And eight-hundred serial killers
Who have working organs
When all you need is just one-


Still I know you wouldn’t even accept it
Even if there was a law that said you could
And you would say something corny like
God loves bad people as much
As he does the good

And i wish i could snatch 
half of my lymph nodes
And give them to you
But no Doctor would approve the surgery

So what else can i do
Except write this silly poem for you
except watch you lose weight and hair
And listen to doctors suggest prayer

And more chemo only means
More Hallmark moments at the hospital
And more crying, more dying
More doctors and chaplains lying


But mostly I’ll never get to figure out
How it took you thirty minutes
At Build-A-Yogurt in the mall
And they only had six flavors-
Even after I told you
Chocolate Coconut Sprinkle
 Was really the best of all


Tonight your children get to sleep in your bed
And pretend You’re coming home
And I get to cry for them and finish
This corny cancer poems


Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2015

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You got a friend

When the world brings you down trials have become burdensome you need somebody to lean on to silently stand by your side to catch you while you fall to hold you and lean onto to show you light in darkness to guide when you are lost to save you from drowning especially when sharks are around to be your sanctuary in pain when storms are strong You cannot edit a friendship true friendship is written in fate Many passengers come and go but, only a few really touch our hearts Many leave and are forgotten for the ones we love, there is no goodbye True friends listen, without judging and accept you for who you are Stand by you when you are in need unselfishly, always put your needs first That is when you know - you got a friend The Silent One 13 January 2016


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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FAVE POETS MEET

Meeting my homegirls Wilma Neels
and Kim Van Breda with shrieks and squeals
hasty introductions and we're on our way
for a night of reading at Poetry Café

We've Yasmin to thank for arranging the meet
with fellow Soupers, a veritable treat
Yasmin the sneak had their names withheld
we're apprehensive yet still by curiosity propelled

My fingers are crossed to meet Eileen 
fave poetess mine, the Passionate Queen
dare I wish to meet hamsome Ryerson
not to mention Anne-Lise Andresen?

On first glance the café seems somewhat rowdy
from one of the corners a chorus of "Howdy!!!"
heaven help!!  I'm rooted to the spot
all my fave poets from the Souper pot

The Queen of Passion, my special friend
Eileen Ghali, an angel heaven-sent
with open arms and that beguiling smile
that's touched us all over thousands of miles 

I spot our Father Christmas, Jackie Ellison
Oh my, mercy me, the hamsome Tim Ryerson
then the beautiful being, Anne-Lise Andresen
and our pretty young doll, Anne Poetess Currin

Andrea, crack writer and popcorn freak
and Nette Onclaud, Madame Linguistics
the talented and sweet Leonora Galinta
oh, for a long time I've longed to meet her

There's the much-loved Reach-Out Lamoureux
a stylish gentleman, delighted to meet you
our very own Linda who happiness spreads
memorable the day as Brown Licia meets Red

He who writes poetry with a golden pen
bestest, fantasticest, hamsomest friend
Rich-Heart Seal-ed Door, my bruv from abroad
by his smile I'm bowled over;  by his charm I am awed 

I'm jumping with joy at my fave poets meet
befuddled, bewildered;  who first to greet?
midst the mountain of talent I'm on a positive high
overwhelmed, I simply break down and cry


This one needs a whole lot of polishing and smoothing 
out, but I was too excited to submit it.  I'll iron out the 
crinkles soon.  LOVE TO YOU ALL, LICIA <3 <3 <3 <3



Copyright © delysia hendricks | Year Posted 2013

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Looking Down My Street - A Collaboration

Looking down my tree lined street the setting sun casts her glow upon the Chestnuts, Maples, and Oaks dressed in worn out yellow ribbons telling the story of friendship and loss strength and courage. How there was hope and there were dreams. That life wouldn't pull us apart. There was community and passion and smiles each time you went through that revolving door. We prayed, yes we prayed for us that we wouldn't lose you that we wouldn't be missing someone so true. I raise my head up to the skies washing away a lingering tearful cry and remember .... Your amiable soul, dynamic, invincible and unique Your stupendous dose of humor, indulging, infectious and unstoppable. Your enthusiasm to give, to share, and your boundless care Your friendship, a treasure trove of trust worth. Wherever you were, there was harmony, and a breath of fresh air You were a friend, who never postponed one minute of life You used every minute to fill ours with joy I raise my head high and remember i remember the moment my laughter died that moment when I asked why Why are the good, the chosen ones, to suffer for others 'evil Why do they go first, why do they die young Why are they now far, so far ? In that moment of helplessness and doubt In that moment when faith was provoked I cried like a child, I didn t need another hero, I just wanted my friend back I wanted him so bad to be near, to survive Once again I raised my head, I got lost in the sky, And I swear I saw him with these eyes And I swear, I heard him with these ears He said, 'Death is not for the living, I am so much alive ' Then, it was night ! I raised up my head, and a luminous star lit my once darkened sky with warm breezing light.


Copyright © Cupids Arrow | Year Posted 2015

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Waiting to be free

             Waiting to be free

I am dying, but not like anybody who died.
     I am living, but in the rainbow I do reside. 
How much longer I will go until secrets unveil?
     My mind cannot comprehend but my heart will decide.
My problems are too simple, my remedy complex;
     Love is my medicine, which I have identified.
Destination is unknown; the journey is too short,
     My vehicle is broken, our driver is mystified. 
My body is a cage, my soul is shackled inside. 
     Speak not of troubles, my pain will be justified.
The door is half open; I can see the ray of love, 
     My heart will take over until we’re all unified.
Tomorrow, I will fly with swallows, they know the path.
     Who can you trust “Haloo”? There is no one to confide.

March 1st 2016   Haloo


I dedicate this poem to Daniel Turner, for all his love and friendship. 


Copyright © Pashang Salehi | Year Posted 2016

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HE IS MY BEST FRIEND

HE’S MY BEST FRIEND

Times of laughter under a southern sky
with jacarandas in their ripest bloom.
Those days were left behind as years went by
with summer’s shining light now dimmed by gloom.
	
With the darkest shadows cast over you
I still see the light that once shone so bright.
With a friendship that lasts a whole life through
I pray for God’s mercy to heal your plight.

Your words are drowned in tears of silent cries
though once your courage was my saving grace.
I feel the forlorn sadness in your eyes
as I give my thanks with a warm embrace.

Through final parting our rapport remains,
memories light the dusk as daylight wanes.


26th October, 2016
T.J Grén


Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016

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Sharon Weimer

Though we’ve never met 
I comprehend your beautiful words
I feel your pleasant persona
Never a mean word to be said
I ache from your kindness 
Making others feel ten feet tall 
Picking me up when I may fall 
Talent beyond compare 
Are you brunette or fair?
But that wouldn’t matter to me 
If I never had the chance to see you face to face 
Your wonderful personality I could never forget 
You’ve help build a community of friends 
Steady and true
I wish you peaceful skies of cobalt blue 
Fields of flowers brushed in rainbow colors 
I pray for love from God above 
For you and your family beloved 
Know that you touched lives that may not have been touched 
You changed someone 
And brought me a new reason to write 
You’re an inspiration and a friend 
And you’ve touched my heart polite 
Gratitude pours forth  


Written for and about Sharon Weimer !


Copyright © Laura Mckenzie | Year Posted 2009

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I Slipped on a Teardrop and Landed

I slipped on a teardrop and landed in muck. No inkling had I of my future bad luck. The tear I had cried started out, oh, so small I’d felt little need to be crying at all. But crying that one single tear was enough To bring to me to this! Now my life’s getting tough. The muck where I landed is not disappearing. And sometimes these days I can feel my eyes tearing. I do what I can though to stop tears from flowing. It doesn’t much matter; the muck just keeps growing. The muck is becoming a loose and wet sand. Yes, quicksand! It pulls me. I reach for a hand. . . Then hands from my loved ones; then hands from each friend. With so many hands out, this can’t be the end! The muck turned to quicksand could swallow me whole, But I must believe that it can’t take my soul. My family and friends are comfort for me. Their hands I grab hold of; then strong I can be. I’ll keep loving life, and I’ll laugh. In a while The quicksand will have to subside, and I’ll smile. I’ll next be the one whose comfort gets handed To one who has slipped on a teardrop and landed. Written 6/21/16 for the Contest of Cindi Rockwell


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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THE MISSIONARY AND THE BUM



There once was a bum. He 
was the neighborhood drunk. 
He had a unkempt demeanor. 
His salt and pepper had not 
been washed in years.The 
clothes he wore were  ragged.
His shirt had giant holes in them.
He looked twice his age. In his 
drunken state he cursed every-
one that came his way.His smell 
was so horrible you might as well
say he showered in whiskey.That 
didn't bother this young missionary 
who lived nearby.Every day she would 
bring the old bum food and clothing.
She would offer him shelter as well.
"Hi sir . How are you today?"
"Why don't you just leave me alone. 
Can't you see I don't want to be 
bothered."he stated with a slur.
"Sir I'm going to leave your food and 
your clothing right here". As she said 
those words she bent down and placed 
his things on the ground.This was their
routine for well over a year.But on this
in particular day the ole drunk appear-
ed to be coherent. He was sober.As 
the young missionary approached him
she said, "Hi Sir. How are you today?"
"I'm fine ma'am. How are you?"
"I'm well Sir. Are you hungry today?"
I brought you some food and water
and some clothes and shoes."He 
shook his head no.
"Ma'am  I don't want anything.How-
ever I do appreciate it so. I'm going
home today."
His statement took her by surprise.
"Sir I didn't even know you had a 
home."
"Ma'am I do indeed have a home. 
I'm homeless by choice. I want you
to know your kindness will not go 
unnoticed."
She knew it wasn't right to judge but 
she thought to herself he has gone 
insane.
" Miss I stopped believing in God a
long time ago but your loving kind-
ness showed me God today."  
"Okay Sir.I'm going to leave these
things and I will see you later.How-
ever the next day the old bum was 
not in his usual spot. And sad-
ness overwhelmed her spirit. That 
old bum had become a big part of
her life. She grew to love him very
much. As the days went by she con-
tinued to look for him and he wasn't 
there. It was as though he dropped
off the face of the earth.Today was 
a beautiful day and she was at the
corner,  in the spot where the bum 
sat.Deep in her thoughts as she be-
gan to walk she nearly bumped into 
someone. As she was about to speak 
she saw this well groomed middle
aged man with dashing good looks.
" Hi Ma'am. How are you?" She recog-
nized the handsome stranger's voice 
instantly.
"Sir is that you?"  She asked just to
 make sure her mind wasn't playing 
tricks on her.
"Yes Ma'am it is me. I just came by
 to formally thank you for all of the
 kindness you showed to me. I was in
raggedy clothes and never once did
you show disgust. You see I am a 
millionaire that had lost his way. You 
see my wife of nearly thirty years got 
ill and passed away. In that moment I 
lost my mind because my home didn't
exist anymore."
As he finished telling his story little 
tears began to fall from her eyes.
Through small sobs she said,
 " I'm sorry for your loss. I will con-
tinue to pray to God on your behalf."
" Ma'am your prayers is why I stand 
here today.If God had not sent you 
my way I would probably still be lost. 
Please don't cry for me I will be okay". 
He reached in his pocket and pulled
out an old business card and handed
it to her.
"Take my card. Feel free to call me any-
time. All that  I have now belongs to you. 
Do you remember that day when I told
you that your loving kindness would not
go unnoticed?"
As he said those final words he turned
and left, leaving the young missionary 
dumbfounded.


 

10-29-16
Alexis Y


Copyright © Alexis Y. | Year Posted 2016

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Forget Me Not and the Silver Prince



Forget Me Not and the Silver Prince They loved to run and play In the cold of winter time This chilly snowy day With mittens in a shade of red And boots to match the same They followed footprints in the snow This was their favorite game Running to the forest edge They looked so deep inside When footprints that they found instead Had seemed to run and hide For hours they still played this game No heed they paid the cold Forget Me Not began to cry The Silver Prince so bold Said, “Why now cry my little friend In tears that come to freeze A’ shimmering your bright red cheeks As we gaze on the trees” Forget Me Not then answered him While shivering where she stood “The trees,” she said. “They are all dead No leaves do hold their wood” The Silver Prince began to laugh As snowflakes sat his eyes To chuckle at the words she said As snow fell from the skies “My tiny friend, oh precious one These trees are but asleep If you would listen closely now Their snores shall quell your weep” Forget Me Not then listened For in the forest roared A gust of wind so chilling cold Alas the trees had snored “For it is every winter” The Silver Prince did speak “The trees they fall to slumbering As through the cold they sleep” She smiled like the sunrise Beneath her golden hair For this one fact that he had told She sure was not aware Returning to the castle He took her by the hand And whispered something in her ear That she did understand He told her that he loved her And if she followed true He’d teach her all she needs to know Of everything he knew From that day forth they wandered She learned from all he said But one thing true he whispered Kept flowing through her head Her heart was filled with laughter Her eyes they shone so bright Each day that they would run and play Within the warm sunlight When spring it now descended New leaves upon the trees Fresh flowers in the garden grew A soft inviting breeze For at this time she noticed His words were not a lark For every tree turned green again Within their favorite park And on this day she whispered To him these words so true The Silver Prince he smiled She said, I love you too


Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016

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One World

Love is not a color,
No hue, neither a race.
All of our blood is the same, 
That runs deep within our veins.

If we could lift up each other,
And know that we all care.
If we help our sisters and brothers,
There's a bond that we'll share.








©2013 Honestly JT


Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2013

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Gathering of the Golden Girls - Soup Convention

Four “Golden Girls” seated at a table
Grey streaks our hair, but minds remain stable
     Convention is underway
     Michael has something to say
He opens our meeting with a fable
 
It’s about a tortoise that beats a hare
Some of the “fast writers” begin to glare
     Joyce, Francine and Barbara know
     It takes time for verse to grow
We’re the queens of rewriting; this we swear
 
Iolanda’s introduced to read her book
“Lava of my Soul,” no gobbledygook
     We’re mesmerized by each line
     At the end we toast with wine
Joyce says, “Now those words took some time to cook.”
 
It’s Karen’s turn to read “Silent Whispers”
We see tears falling into John’s whiskers
     “Tears of joy,” Francine exclaims
     For Karen’s Best Seller fame
Applause rings out from grateful listeners
 
After the “meet and greet” it’s nearly dawn
The crowd starts to thin as our comrades yawn
     Joyce, Francine call it a night
     But Barbara still sits upright
We two remain when most others are gone
 
One poet called us “Late Night Cockroaches”
This indignity did not encroach us 
     We call ourselves “LNCs”
     Awake in wee hours with ease
Waiting for our princes to approach us
 
That’s when the James Brothers draw near
Peranteau and Fraser, to make it clear
     With two erotic writers
     LNCs pull “all nighters”
Knowing that we can propose; it’s Leap Year!
 
 
*Entry for Michael’s “A Table of Four” contest
At my table: Carolyn Devonshire
Joyce Johnson
Francine Roberts
Barbara Gorelick
 




Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

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A Story to Tell

A heart read and quoted by many in this lifetime Battle scars that remain and yet shielded by a peace of mind Walked several miles and traveled while teaching others how to embrace Remains courageous, faithful and strong with persistence in any given case Blindsided by those who are willing to love and cherish her to the end Silence becomes her guard, her armor, her protector, and best friend Tears of pain, and sorrow, all of which are from a past memory Times shared, lost and gained, the negative days are history Mental pictures are drawn from imaginations that lead her to an untraceable place Recruit no one, for life has taught her that there is no room for more mistakes A mind reader that has established herself to be two steps ahead Portrays an interesting novel, a world kept secret unread Admire her dearly for her patience, wisdom and knowledge untold How does she continue to live life so freely far from her empty soul?
Pace, G INK-U-SCRIPT


Copyright © Pace INK-U-SCRIPT | Year Posted 2012

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Initiative

How do I tell you that you’re beautiful?

How can I be different?

How can I express my attraction?

When columns upon
Columns
Of testosterone filled wolves
Dressed in rented Italian suits
And discolored, mesh sneakers
Speak similar flirtatious dialect

Will this baby scented Sunflower do the trick?

I picked it from my walled Garden of Eden.

I spent 4 years mending these butterfly coated petals,
Solely for this moment

How can I express my need for your smile?

When tattered paper donations have been sent
To elicit short-term, newlywed goose bumps upon your flesh

...

May I have this dance? 

You’ve never heard this sensual ballad.

But, it’s an element of my Spoken Word
Waiting for your translation

I await your palms,
Because this is not a Man’s world

This can be ours.

But, will you leap off from trampoline’s corazon? 

My syllables are in your hands.

My book is within your misunderstood palm paths.

But, 
If you’re going to read between my lines,
Do not be illiterate to my heartbeats.

Your move…

©Drake J. Eszes


Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013