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Giving in can be wrong by JY, T.I.R.O.
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Giving Thanks for 2015 by Marcum Wong, Connie
Giving thanks for 2015 by A. Sharma, Dr. Upma
GIVING THANKS FOR 2015 by Yant, Daisy Marie
Giving Thanks For 2015 Contest by Loo, Laura
Giving Thanks for 2015 by Khan, Tasmina Hayat
Giving Thanks for 2015 by Ryerson, Tim
Giving Thanks for 2015 by Ward, Julia

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The Best Giving Poems

Details | Giving Poem | |

Hands

Featuring: Leonora Galinta
----------------------------------
Take My Hands
I Offer Them To You
Hold Them Tight
Never Let Go Of Them!
---------------------------------

~MY HANDS~

With all the time on my hands
I gave my hands one job.
  My Hands 
-The Artist-

My hands paint everything in my life
they paint my weakness, my strength 
they paint the fire in my eyes
they hold me when I'm cold
my hands colored my childhood!

Like an architect, 
my hands drew the plans and layouts of my life.
My hands *very articulate, are they? 
They continue to sew and show the way  
Sometimes, my hands paint the truth
Sometimes, my hands paint lies
Painting hurtful images on drywall
My palms, my fingers embedded calluses from every fall
Creating images, healing my heart
Sometimes my hands are the only friend I see. 

With no words to say
I caress the skyline like a mime
My hands ride the wind, 
My hands paint the world, 
each of their own. 

Young and pretty fingerprints 
They feel, they hold, they grip
Don't let go!

Clever and cute
It's time for motherhood
My hands painted your first hold
Traced your first smile
A painting  I treasure forever in my heart
Yes! A Rembrandt they became during birth 
Now you're all grown up...:-(  
Embarrassed to embrace the hold
One day when I'm old,
 you will hold my hands and remember the gold.

My hands paint many designs when it comes to love
sometimes a masterpiece 
sometimes a mistake
sometimes my hands felt images I can't describe
Made up moments of handicap when lost
My hands perfect when in love
They write songs when complete
So many interlock moment with you
Firm, the perfect match, my fingers spoke.

My hands 
-The Artist-
they've been told
held so many times
always meeting, greeting,  
waving hello's and goodbyes... 
((you see my hands, they smile too))

Painful, arthritis 
cuts, bruises
Pinching my way through reality. 
Reaching holding on to dreams.
Snapping fingers, we are a team.

My hands age in every turning page
Shriveled and old
Still you embrace and love the hold
my hands touch and make a difference
my hands learned a lot
my hands prayed 
and knew their duty.
My hands employed by me.
When they are bored,
they tap and tap and draw THAT annoying noise.

My hands know secrets, a fortune teller can never reveal
they hold the past, present, and  future in every line.
I extend my hands,
without flipping the bird
Thank you, Hands!
I am enjoying the sign language show.

In my next life, or so
I will praise my hands
Yes so beautiful, tender, they love to feel...................

My Hands
-The Artist-
I can't believe with all the time I have on my hands.
I forgot to mention I'm left-handed.

by;PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

More great poems below...


Details | Giving Poem | |

If I Could

if i could,             

                         i'd  wish a magic wand.            

if i could,

              i would build dreams                

                                     brick by brick

                                                        the kind         

                                                                one could hang on to            

                                                                                                one could live in.

if i could,
        imagine 
               upside down 
                                rainbows                                                           
                                            so the sky 
                                                            baby blue 
                                                                        would look as if 
                                                                                         it was smiling.
        
my bestest hope 
                                  wipe away the tears from
                                                                 the hungry
                                                                 the abused
                                                                  the sickly 
                                                                      children
                                                                and elderly.            

                                             this first,
fore all else,       
                            yes the children and the elderly.


if i could,
                            replace every tear with a smile
                                                                              a hug
                                                                          a tickle

if i could,

snap my fingers make money obsolete,
                                               
                                                        plenty for everybody to share.

        clap my hands medical care everywhere would be there.


in my heart, live dried out tears.
there, i hear the pulse of our planet.
                                 so many good people,               
                                               people who care.

there's a black venom       
                       such a small dose
                                 affects the masses.    

if i could,
                    supply all with the antidote.



if i could,              
                   i would build an arc
                                sail 'till the world was cleansed 
                                                              move in with everyone           
                                                                                             on one land.

call it OURS.             
           yes definitely OURS.
                                           i like that name.
                                                      
i can't.          
              i can't do all those things.

i can kiss where it hurts.         
                                 give hugs freely.
                                             give what possessions,                                       
                                                                    i can do without,
                                                                            share my physical wealth.

i fear nothing.
              least of all poverty
                              happy to share what i can.

i can offer you my love
                                       love comes easy to me.

it never feels like enough.        

                                        but i am here,     arms wide open.


tell me what is it you need,        how can i help.


i love you,

                               unconditionally.




14~12~2014
Maurice Yvonne





Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014


Details | Giving Poem | |

Lottery Winner helps Homeless

 
 As I walked into the banquet hall of the 
 Goodman’s Inn, the first thing that stood
 out to me were the eyes of the people. I
 felt as though I could actually see hope. Eyes 
 seemed to sparkle and everyone in the hall
 sat talking to the others sitting around them
 as they waited for the main course of the evening. 
 To understand this report we need to go back just 
 over a year ago when Lindsey Long won the 50 
 million dollar lottery. Apparently the multimillionaire 
 booked the Goodman’s Inn for December 24th through 
 to January 2nd of this year solely to house the homeless 
 over the Christmas holidays. Miss Long walked through 
 the streets herself over the last week inviting the 
 unfortunate homeless to come to the motel for these      
 festivities. Lindsey Long has not only provided the rooms 
 for this week, she also has clothed them with new 
 wardrobes and warm winter clothing and accessories.
 Now as the people sat around the table they were
 told Miss Long had an announcement. We all waited 
 to hear what this amazing lady had to say
 and excitement filled the room. When this 
 beautiful young woman began to talk there
 wasn’t one dry eye in the building. She told them 
 how she was not going to just send them back
 on the street next week but how she had
 built a new centre that would have sleeping
 facilities and showers to accommodate all
 of them. This new facility will be serving 
 three meals a day which will be prepared solely 
 from themselves on a voluntary bases. 
 The feeling in the Inn that night was pure joy
 and as the people realized the impact of this
 wonderful news, they all broke out singing
 It Came Upon a Midnight Clear. This is 
 Rhonda Reeds reporting for 
 The Good Newspaper.
 Merry Christmas everyone.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.12.2014
Sponsor Mystic Rose
The Good Newspaper 
1st

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014


Details | Giving Poem | |

Soul mates solace

When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender 
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories 
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised 
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013


Details | Giving Poem | |

The Forgotten Gifts

She sat in her little cottage
Her ears tuned
Her body alive
Waiting…
Waiting for that knock on the door
Anytime now
She pulled back the frilly curtains
And peered out at the gathering dusk
The time when most of her visitors
Would knock at her door
Looking for word gifts
To fill up their souls

It was the third day…
It was the third night…
And she kept her vigil
With her candle lit
To ward off the loneliness
That was creeping in on her
She fought it away
Repositioning the candle
To make sure that its light
Would be a welcome sight
To her longed for visitors

Only one thing worried her
What would she offer them as presents?
She had nothing to give
And this was the custom 
In these parts
The tradition
The giving and getting of word presents
That's why she had moved here

She fondly fingered on of the presents
Given to her 
By one of her most cherished visitors
A token of love and friendship
Of constancy
And yet….
Where was he?
Now when she was destitute
Now when she was dry
With no gifts to offer
She had been forgotten by them all
Forgotten by him
She fought back the tears
Willing to believe

The candle flickered and died out
The moonlight
Filtered in through her window
Comforting her with its magical
Dream formations
On her wooden floor
She sighed
She had given all that she had
Did they love her only for her gifts?
Could they not just reopen her gifts and look inside?
If not that…what about the other unopened ones
The older ones
The ones that she had shyly left
Outside their doors
When she had newly moved in
And was yet unknown

Once one of them had opened a gift
The news had spread
That there was someone new in the area
With word gifts to give
Some were crude
But others were beautiful
With her own distinctive design
All wrapped with her love
Each scented by her perfume
Her signature scent

Now she was poor
No gifts
No perfume
No words
Empty....
Why didn't they come to visit?
Why didn't they open the ones of long ago
That still lay around their homes…unopened

She brushed away a tear
Perhaps she’d been forgotten
Perhaps she just wasn’t good enough
For this part of the country
She decided
On the morrow
She would leave
Though it would make her heart bleed
But wait…
A faint knock on the door
A familiar knock
She sprang to her feet
And swung upon the door
There he stood
A smile on his face
“I haven’t seen you for a while
Your gifts used to bring me a smile
Sorry it’s late
I just couldn't wait
To tell you…
I found the unopened gift
It still bore your scent
It reminded me of you
The beauty of your soul
And how you make me whole
Here I am…
Here I am to tell you
I’ve missed your gifts
But more than that…
I’ve missed the giver!”

With tears streaming down
But a smile on her face
She took his hand
And led him inside
The home of her heart
For a nice long sweet visit
With one of her favorite
Giver of gifts!

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013


Details | Giving Poem | |

Because He Gave A Single Rose

Her tired old eyes lit up bright.
A thankful tear, she could not hide.
A sweet aroma fills her nose;
because he gave a single rose.

Confined to this dreary nursing home;
having outlived family, she's alone.
Today, with a smile, her face glows;
because he gave a single rose.

He brings them often to his mother.
Today, one extra for another.
Talking, on and on she goes;
because he gave a single rose.

She asked an aid to bring a vase.
By her bed the gift was placed.
Happy and peaceful then she dozed;
because he gave a single rose.

Her final breath tonight was sweet.
Family missed, again to meet.
Her last day joyful, all heaven now knows;
because he gave a single rose.



July 17, 2014
Contest: Random acts is kindness
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi




Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2014


Details | Giving Poem | |

Uplifting

I flew over Bryce Canyon my wings fully spread in a gentle glide as I marveled at the view below. It wasn't the first time but it always felt like it. I flapped my wings to ascend even further and consume even more of the landscape. The weather chiseled rock that always reminded me of sandcastles children sculpted at the seashore. I loved the fragrance of the pine trees that neatly grew amongst the rocks and the white and golden blend of colors that jutted here and there against an ever changing sky. I suppose if they could see me - humans would gasp at the sight of an Angel and me well I still gasp at all that God created for the pleasure of mankind.
22~12~2014 With Love Maurice Yvonne

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014


Details | Giving Poem | |

Loving

Loving is to through a pebble into the sea
and the ripple become a wave
to plant a seed
and it become a tree
to cook a meal
and it become a feast
to build a house 
and it become a home
to shine a light 
and it become a beacon
to speak a name
and it impart trust
to see what lies benieth
what is seen on the surface
to hear the secrets
of the heart being told
to touch and give 
comfort to a human being
to feel empathy instead
of sympathy in time of need
to let love be measured
by decades and deeds
where words are the least 
of expressions of these
but summerize the tears, fears
and tongue of our God
a relationship with both 
mate and Diety we laud
with works and prayers
love is more than words
it is the path we trod
love is a blanket
covered to keep warm
love is a needle
sewing socks while a fire burns
love is waking
before the break of dawn
love is baking and taking out
before it burns
love is a love note
found 
during the day
love is thought
finding words to say
love is sometimes saying
"You can have it your way"
and love is duality in saying
"Lord give US this day"
where hell and high water
have no say
a sacred trust
in giving time away
love is forgiving all that
is abroad
love is not giving 
that which belongs
to God
the only place to find this love
it is the place we call heaven
up high above

Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2010


Details | Giving Poem | |

An Angels Tear

An angel shed a tear from both her soul and her heart As she viewed the Earth’s beauty that its people called art Their art came from their souls and from their hands It came with their giving, shown to every man It came from the precious moments that were needed elsewhere And sponsored from the funds that were so hard won and rare It came from ideas when an occasional quiet moment was won And in their world, there are precious few of such ones It came from the hearts that had often known despair As one paid it forward from a gift of another’s fare And Hope slowly rose with each and every smile As a moments’ help began to grow by the mile And all the thoughts became bright where applied So remember how important, can be something you do When someone is given, a momentary helping hand, from you No matter how small, no matter how much It’s the love and the heart that comes with the touch And an Angel did smile That so many had learned to give in a short while And they’d learned: there’s an art to giving so very worthwhile Written by Carol Eastman 10-25-2015

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2015


Details | Giving Poem | |

POVERTY DEFINES TRUE WEALTH

written 25th Oct 2013


I don't know if human's will ever see
 every soul born, is right where it's meant to be
For the rich to become the richest
 there has to be a place for the poorest

The entire world is built up from the same level of dirt
 each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt
Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory
 I am to believe "all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story

The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man
 he learn's the treasures, of "everything he can
Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of "richness
 seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty "as an illness

Love start's from the soul, and from there, it is taught to grow
 the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough
Love, trust, compassion and grace, defining the difference in richest and wealth
 t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth 

He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key
 for his wealth, is humanly "uncountable, for only God know's the value of he...


Award winning this poem made it to the top 100 in 2015 enjoy and leave me a smile to know that you were here. 

Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013


Details | Giving Poem | |

The Gift Of Time


The Gift Of Time


The giving of time is a special gift…
     can never be wrapped in paper and bows.
Always delivered with love of the heart,
     to give and to share wherever one goes.

Time is a gift never measured by cost,
     just priceless minutes or hours to supply
comfort in sadness, or laughter in joy, 
     to a loved one, a friend, or passerby.

Much harder than simply giving a gift
     sought for and purchased with value we earn,
time is a jewel, more precious than gold…
     something to offer with thought and concern.

Be there for one who has lost a dear spouse,
     a mother, father, or special someone.
The gift of our time…to listen, to care…
     this sacred present cannot be out-done.

Be there for a child, a neighbor or pal,
     even for joy, give the time to commend.
Say well-done, give praise, be happy at heart;
     this welcomed support wins out in the end.

Be it minutes or hours, days, even weeks,
     small gifts of time that encourage, console,
cherished by all…immeasurable worth
     remembered, treasured by mind, heart and soul.


Sandra M. Haight
November 30, 2014

~1st Place~
Contest: Must Be Read
Sponsor: The Silent One
Judged: 11/21/2015
 

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014


Details | Giving Poem | |

I WILL REMEMBER YOU

On a day
when words of wonder fail to come
to describe the beauty in what I see
when I am simply overcome
and my quill is kept still;
I will remember you -
that you believed in  me
and were kind enough to express
that belief  in such a beautiful way.

At a time
when the right words would not come
to give voice to a moment, a  feeling
when uncertainty knocks 
at the door of my heart;
I will remember you -
that you had faith in me
and were generous to provide
the warm wind for my soaring flight.

For now,
know of my sincerity
when I want to simply  tell you
the words that  won’t be kept inside.
From the warmth of my heart
to the purity of yours;
Thank You.






Poem of the Day - June 06, 2015
Kim Patrice Nunez
June 04, 2015





Copyright © Kim Patrice Nunez | Year Posted 2015


Details | Giving Poem | |

Turkey Chase

Turkey's on the table, both legs up
Everything was fine, 'til I made the first cut!

The turkey unleashed a "CACKLE!", then jumped onto the floor
All you could see was basted skin, bolting out the door!

"Catch that turkey!!", I screamed,..."That's our evening meal!!"
The neighborhood looked on in awe, while asking,..."What's the deal?!"

The turkey rounded the corner, boy, that sucker was quick
Dashing like a sprinter, pumpin' those massive drumsticks!

It darted down an alley, disturbed a hobo's nap
And there, seated in a corner, he jumped upon his lap!

"Thank you Lord!", the hobo cried..."Today I won't have to beg!"
"Maybe I'll start with a wing, or perhaps I'll have a leg!"

"Put the turkey down!!", I roared,..."That bird belongs to me!!"
All I could see was a tailwind, as the hobo decided to flee!

I chased him down the alley, perhaps a quarter mile
Acting a fool in public, was never quite my style!

We dashed across the freeway, dodging every car
All I want is my turkey, can't stop, I've come too far!

The chase led to a corner, right past a city cop
He stood there like a scarecrow, talk about a useless flop!

Suddenly, it ended, the bum tripped over his laces
He broke his leg quite viciously, in fact, several places!

I woke up the next morning, thank God it was just a dream
With a hangover and an achin' skull, "OUCH!!" is what I screamed!

I looked over at the table, what do you think I'd see?
That same ol' basted turkey, lying there peacefully!

I stumbled to the table, laid that bird in a box
Packed two sides with a bisquit, then staggered on down the block!

I came upon that alley, peeked behind a garbage can
And there, sleeping like a baby, was a ragged ol' homeless man!

I placed the box beside him, never did I say a word
I penned a note which kindly read,..."Hope you like the bird." 

Copyright © Milton Toran | Year Posted 2009


Details | Giving 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

Copyright © victor nwakanma | Year Posted 2015


Details | Giving Poem | |

FRIENDSHIP - A GIFT

FRIENDSHIP - A GIFT Material gifts displayed in all shops, I saw as I passed beside the windows shining gold, silver and costly fur robes. All of these, our money can surely buy. Pity, I have no means to buy such things: none of silver, gold nor costly fur robes; yet, now, I am giving a gift to you within your heart to forever uphold. Something that thieves could never ever steal or something that even rust can't decay but be valued more than the gifts I saw from all those fancy window-shops, today. . . Something that could live through the passing years Something that encompasses love and truth. This is the gift I'm giving you this day-- my lifelong enduring friendship for you.. _________________________________________________ POEM OF THE DAY: November 30, 2015 Sponsor Kelly Deschler Contest Name Women Only #2 ~~5th Place~~ ©O. E. Guillermo 2:53 pm, November 28, 2014

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2014


Details | Giving 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

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013


Details | Giving Poem | |

Please Take The Time

So many times we see someone in need
Most walk by while they piteously plead
Plead for help that may not come
Plead for love because they have none
So many people just don't take the time
To support their fellow man
Like it's too much to be kind
Too much to give a helping hand
To someone who needs it, please take a stand
Stand up for the ones who cannot speak for themselves
Stand up for those who live their lives in hell
They need your help, you may be the one
That saves their life, think of your son
If he were in need and you not around
Would you want others to laugh at his frowns
To see him in need and lift not a hand
To help him up out of no man's land
You'd want strangers to aid him, I know that's true
But don't forget help can also come from you
We are all in the position to assist
I know you know that, but here's the twist
In helping others we also help ourselves
And that is a great reason in and of itself
It feels wonderful to help those in need
To sleep soundly knowing you did a good deed
So please when you see someone who has not a thing
Take time to help, it will make your heart sing

Copyright © April Gabriella | Year Posted 2013


Details | Giving Poem | |

True Friendship


 ~True Friendship~
 (Couplets)


 True friends are really a treasure so rare
 There are not many like that who really cares.

 If you happen to have one exactly like that
 Be happy you got lucky,so toss high your hat.

 Real friends wish to share everything with you,laughter and tears
 And like finest wine they just get better all throughout the years.

 They will be loyal,honest and true no matter what you may go through
 A true friend will not hurt you on purpose and she always care for you.

 There are not many good friends around like this they're hard to find
 Better just have one true than maybe dozens that are untrue and fake in kind.

 So if you already have a true friend consider yourself very lucky everyday
 And treat well that friend with all the love and respect that(she or he)deserves all way.


 Dorian Petersen Potter
 aka ladydp2000
 copyright@2012




 February.08.2015 

Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2015


Details | Giving Poem | |

I Do Believe

"I Do Believe" 

The purpose of LIFE is to {Living In Faith Ever} 
to enrich God within us 
to an optimum level 
so that We as Humans 
can be guided by God 
to fuel out brothers and sisters 
with the same driving force 
to connect with the living God, 
to His existence and 
to See the Invisible, 
Believe the Incredible, and 
to Receive the Impossible 
to our everlasting journey 
to Heaven.

Rev. Samuel Mack
Copyright 2013

http:paladinnews1.blogspot.com

Copyright © Rev. Dr. Samuel Mack | Year Posted 2013


Details | Giving Poem | |

Heart Of Gold

I sold my heart of gold
To the old man with a heart so cold.

Though it seemed I had sold my soul to the devil,
Truth be told, the old man was never evil.

Copyright © Marissa Faries | Year Posted 2014


Details | Giving Poem | |

SMILE

Smile, don't let the day get you down.
Smile, it's much easier than frown.
     Greet the morning with your laughter.
     Know that dreams may still come true.
     Pray for happy ever after,
     For your neighbor and for you.

Smile, share it with the world outside.
Smile, dry the tears that have been cried.
     Be a ray of hope that's shining,
     Like a beacon in the night.
     You're an architect designing,
     Ways to fill the dark with light.

Smile, give a hand to those in need.
Smile, Gently watering love's seed.
     Your life is music, sing it's song.
     Shout it from the mountain top.
     Invite the world to sing along.
     The melody will never stop.

Smile, it's a gift you have to give.
Smile, it's the only way to live.
JUST SMILE!

Copyright © Robert Nehls | Year Posted 2014


Details | Giving Poem | |

Cards of Love

Just children with their homemade card
Brought so much joy when I was down.
I was so sick my heart was scarred,
Just children with their homemade card.
To show their love, it was not hard,
Their love to me a peaceful gown.
Just children with their homemade card
Brought so much joy when I was down.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
02.2014
Contest: Small Gifts

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014


Details | Giving Poem | |

The Planting

The Planting

Seeds of sorrow lay scattered along our path
 so oft intertwined with Nature's wrath
Yet till the fields of dreams we simply must
for soon , so very soon we turn to dust

Green is the color of majestic newborn fields
as man enjoys fruits of earthen harvested yields
The sweat and pain given is the simple cost
thus we survive so ALL humanity is not lost

Life requires our own ground be rightly prepared
ignorance is the calamity so many are ensnared
We eat the dust long before we bake the bread
when we seek ease oft great sorrow we get instead

We plant our own seeds to dream to reap anew
yet we all pay, life is not free, tis so very true!

Robert Lindley, 10-01- 2014


note: Inspired by this morn's reading of Debbie Guzzi's 
super fine poem , a great sonnet -- The Sowing
I give thanks for this inspiration and the joy in reading 
both her sonnets this great morn. Certainly brought me
out of a slump and crazy haze these last few days..
Amazing how sometimes another poet can blow one away and change
 another's  entire attitude.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014


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A Beautiful Reverie

Here I lie beside you
My heart goes thump.thump.thump.
My soul dances inside you
Reveling in the texture of your own.
Electric and flowing 
The currents of our love
Glow like neon lights
Illuminating the hope in my eyes.
Though we're not moving
I feel so incredibly alive
Invincible to my past
Untouchable by all who lack
That gentle touch of when 
You lean in and brush my face
Your lips grazing my skin
Softer than a butterfly.
And then you gaze into my eyes
I fall into your depths 
Twirling like the autumn leaves
Melting into your smile 
Your soul reminiscent of summer.
You pull me into your arms 
And for a moment I'm lost 
Breathless and in awe
Staring in the face of pure exquisite love 
And there you are - holding it 
Glowing in the moonlight of my stare.
My heart beats - its drum pounding away
Echoing a song thats lost its words
I touch your cheek and smile
My hands cant stay away
My lips s l o w l y, draw near yours
Hovering, and then - 
Part, a soft warmth against them.
My eye lids pulling shut
Dragging me into a silent heaven
I pull away - and what seemed millennia
Lasted only a moment, a second in time
But this is our love
This is what you do to me
You make me invincible and fragile
Lost forever in a beautiful reverie.

Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013


Details | Giving Poem | |

The Gift

She came on tip-toe
In the middle of the night
Leaning over me
Lightly kissed my dormant face
Loving angel’s gift bestowed


Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015