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Best Grateful Poems

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

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New Grateful Poems

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

i am grateful by eunice, abena
A Grateful Heart - Nighttime Musing by Pinet, Emile
Grateful for Tears by Spangle, Michael
Grateful for Healing by Spangle, Michael
The Grateful Reprobate by Mumo, Hannington
I'm grateful for by Hamilton, John
To Die and Be Grateful by Vassallo, Alfred
- Just Be Grateful - by mcdaid, liam
- Just Be Grateful - by Andresen, Anne Lise
Be Grateful by Tesfaye, Haile

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The Best Grateful Poems

Details | Grateful Poem | |

A Near Death Experience of A Sweetheart

 
"A Near-Death Experience of A Sweetheart" Floating through a corridor between two different Worlds among white fluffy clouds and shimmering stars awhile wind unfurls racing into darkness: destination to death's door living in a heavenly kingdom ... forevermore ... Traveling through deep tunnel as cold fingers touch walls of blackened essence creating thoughts to clutch quickly toward a bright white light of peace my soul and spirit being experienced soft release ... Rushing to a Paradise, landing on streets of gold seeing the Face of God so clearly to behold longing to embrace my dear departed family loved ones who had gone before to their final destiny ... Their captivating smiles excited my soul sharing love once more as was in their earthly roll but a huge white Angel stood between my track he spoke mentally "child of God you must go back. And yet, I was not sad but happy to have seen my precious treasured relatives cuddled by Supreme Being why? I questioned must I return to Planet Earth? Angel responed not your time to stay your purpose unfulfilled for God to cherish every day ... Suddenly transported through the tunnel smelling flowers a jorney taking minutes but feeling like hours and soon the sights and sounds ignited quiet hospital room while my loved ones endured possibility of doom ... My husband was squeezing my hand so tight I felt his love as my children sobbed so loud praying to above my eyes opened wide as I inhaled a breath escaping to my body while I avoided Death ... This near-death experience was an inspiration for another realm exists in utter fascination for now the message lives to enjoy both love and life have no fear for death is harmless and erases strife ... Hover close to God and always give Him thankxxx through trials and tribulations He relieves all angst Treasure every moment and anticipate the end a beutiful place is waiting reuniting family and friends ... Kisses and hugs replaced those solitary tears knowing what lies ahead extinguishes all fears please celebrate the gift of life in grateful attitude Eternity is awesome with unending interlude ...

Copyright © Linda-Marie SweetHeart | Year Posted 2013

More great poems below...


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Star-Crossed - For Love of Day, For Love of Night

(this is a form called Swap Quatrain, where first line's phrases swap in the last line of each stanza) In shadows’ veils, at end of night, sweet Moon removes her modest light and softly, yet again, exhales - at end of night, in shadows’ veils. As she departs, her love’s released to climb the stairway to the east. They cannot meet to share their hearts. Her love’s released as she departs. She watches him while hid from view, the way he kisses morning’s dew, and sees gold rays spill from his rim. While hid from view, she watches him. Sad Moon, alone for centuries, with awe has watched Sun leave, cerise. while she, afar. . . how cold she’s grown! For centuries, sad moon alone. She takes his place so he may rest. And though forlorn, she’s always dressed in lace, for Luna has great grace. So he may rest, she takes his place. For love of night, for love of day, she can’t implore him that he sway from course. To be apart’s their plight. For love of day, for love of night.
By Andrea Dietrich/ This poem took first place in Shadowpoetry's annual Shadows Ink Contest from 2008. It appears in the Shadows Ink Poetry Chapbook, Series 2, Volume 5. As a result of that win, I received a chapbook deal worth around $300 at that time. (30 free copies with publication over at Shadowpoetry). Also, I entered it into my second PoetrySoup International Contest since I had joined Soup earlier in the year of 2010. It got an HM with a certificate. Soup no longer has their big Soup contests chosen by their staff. An HM was actually a really nice thing in those days because the contest was a HUGE deal and out of hundreds of members, there were only ten to twenty total winners. 2010 was probably my best year at PoetrySoup, and my win with this poem in July of 2010 was one of the reasons for that. I am forever grateful for the recognition I received from this poem.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010


Details | Grateful Poem | |

- Just Be Grateful -


Praying for the day I meet  heaven 
You being there sharing this moment
In paradise here I come with open arms 

Listening to the song of a magical lullaby
I will bathe in your teardrops love 
That special place drowns in a sea of roses

Kissing gently the eyes that they fall from
Our time must flow in ceaseless praise
Salted everyone in your deep beauty shines amazing  grace 

A piece of your heart's dreams 
fantasies and love sails away in a treasure pearl
Spices of the soul I surrender to your drops

Falling from a great height like summer rain
All of the things that make us who we are
Softly as they run a river gently down the face






Unrhymed tercet 
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)  08.08.2015 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen | Year Posted 2015


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Tissue Box

like visitors from outer space
they came with tears, and lined the sidewalk
long in face, and arms embracing
some (I have no inkling) who
they were or why they felt compelled to come 

dozens came with casseroles
a few with flowers, wads of tissues
tender words of helpless mutterings
many acts of generous offerings

don't get me wrong, I watched the suffering
expressed in words or acts of kindness
I watched it all, and felt the love
did not dismiss the warm compassion
returned it all, with pure compliance
a thankful heart, a swollen throat

I hugged these strangers at the door
to comfort them, who shed their tears
upon my shoulder, offered them
a place to share their sympathies
a place to spend their mercy, pure

                but, this was my child who loved and lost
                impossible........I can't express it

protected from the very start, by
loving hands, her dad's and mine, 
we watched her grow, and let her go
she grew from the vine ....into a rose
but life composed a tragedy, with goals
beyond our reach...beyond belief
beyond our wildest dreams
and left her with a loss beyond control

like visitors from outer space, we watch
as others come, and others go
they blow into their tissue wads
and empty the boxes one by one
and cry with us,  and then they all go home...

do we cry........?  Oh no, not yet...
instead we smile a grateful smile
and thank them kindly for the while
and for the ways they share their love
but we can't cry into our own clenched wad
of tissue from the tissue box
she needs us to be strong, somehow
and so that is the way it is, we vow...to hold back all the tears for now


                for, this was my child who loved and lost
                impossible........I can't express it
      __________________________________________





4/12/13

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013


Details | Grateful Poem | |

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


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Poetry Soup Kitchen

-Poetry Soup Kitchen-

Grab your aprons and spoon
Today we will not think of the stars and the moon,

Open your eyes, be grateful for all we have
Together we can paint the world
In any which way we desire

Let's give, live and celebrate the New Year
Poetry Soup Style
Happy New Year 
2015


By:PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


Details | Grateful Poem | |

My Angel in Disguise- Tribute to FJ Thompson

She saw my pain and gifted me a crown
and named me Queen when I felt like a clown
She sent her gift cross the many miles
And wreathed my teary face in rainbow smiles

She knew what words and rhymes all mean to me
And so she gifted joy to poetry
A chance to add an image to my rhyme
And write of life and what makes it sublime

She left this place for she could not abide
discrimination’s sneer; it touched her pride
But she came back for me in time of need
When others brought me down, my heart she freed

In every line she writes my heart can trace
The beauty of an angel filled with grace

For Silent One's Tribute Contest
Revised August 6, 2015

F J (Flo) Thompson is a woman I admire with my whole heart. Some of you may know the story of how she named me Queen and wrote a poem about my kingdom here on the Soup. Knowing the sensitivity of my heart, she sent me a tiara and hair decorations in the mail all the way here to lift my spirits.  She gifted me my first Premium Membership and now….a year later, she gifted me the second one along with a Lifetime Membership. I discovered that she anonymously gifted others Premium Memberships as well.  Friends like this are so rare and precious. I’m overwhelmed as I write. I love being able to add photos to my poems and being able to blog. People don’t know what joy I find in writing. FJ knows. She’s my angel in disguise. I’m forever grateful. I love her poetry because of the strength of passion and conviction with which she writes. 

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Please Love Yourself, Mommy

Please love yourself,
My daughter wrote
As we chatted away
About my upcoming trip
And yet my tears spilled over
As I bared my heart
To my 19 year old daughter
The joy of my life
The light of my eyes
The reason…..
The reason I go on with life
It’s for her
I try to survive
And push on
For she still needs me

And she wrote…..
You need to appreciate yourself more mami
I can't imagine my life without you
Just thinking about my life without you in it 
just makes me wanna break down
Please mama for me
Please love yourself
I dunno why it's so hard for you to see how incredible you are

She knew all my reasons
And yet she asked
Desperate to pull me out
To help me see the light
To remind me of who I was
Who I still am
And I soothed and comforted her
Knowing she’d worry
Her daddy away
And her Mama all alone
Locked in her room
Crying the night away
Yet she was the strong one
Mothering me
Giving me
A shoulder to cry on

And after all the tears those words of hers brought
I thanked her for loving me…..
And she wrote
I can't help it. You're amazing. You just need to give yourself a chance
Come here mami we'll have so much fun

And I smiled through my tears
Grateful for the blessing I have in her
And my heart decided
Once more
Once more
For a little while longer
To fight the good fight
To survive
To let the vivacious Mommy she knew
Come to life
The one all her friends loved
And said was “so cool”
That Mommy
That woman
I'd ask her to go on
And to try...
To try...
To love herself...

...For the love of a daughter

Eileen Manassian Ghali


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Lessons Learned from Trees

"A woodland path in the dappled sun, hushed and quiet "

                                                             ~A Rambling Poet~



A canopy of trees
filters the sun for me,
and I am grateful...
For I do not feel like 
having the rays glare
in my eyes today,
in a brooding mood I am.

The earth is damp,
drunken with dew,
seemingly commiserating
with me

I lay myself down,
jagged rocks beneath me
--cutting, rough--
and I welcome it
For it grounds me,
a reminder
that not everything 
is sunlight and blooms

I sink in my darkness
and close my eyes
to dwell in it and drown,
just sighing

For an eternity,
I am mired with
muck and moss in my mind,
thoughts eroding
to nothingness

...until I open my eyes
to Wonderment

The trees above me 
stand tall and proud
in their radial glory,
the sun just
breaking through,
shimmering, dappling
my cold being

Leaves gilt with light
blink back in awe
and I am floored,
blanketed by warmth
of hushed spirits 
surrounding me

These trees 
tell their tales
of growth and survival,
of yearning for 
that light,
of their struggle
to catch a glimpse
of heaven...
of capturing 
its light,
using it,
feeding off from it,
in order to 
give back to others

some of them stumble
yet most of them
succeed

I am humbled.
I am awed.

Yes, the canopy
gave me shade,
temporary darkness
from the light,
I look up again
and realize
that the tiniest
pinholes of hope exist,
reaching deep within...

little sparks
that set off
a chain reaction
of life




--June 11-12 (2011)

Copyright © binibining P.iNk | Year Posted 2011


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Love Truth

Why do you love me...
she asks with purple pause on her breath
and lips anxious for that all consuming kiss of truth...

I love you because my heart can only speak your name
my mouth can't move without your sensual song,
in my mind you are the Mistress of romantic secrets
on my body I feel the marks of your dominance, 
in my dreams I see the ageless Goddess you are to me
that girl of limitless promise,
in you I see the best beauty of my Mother
her perseverance and protection of love,
I love you steadfastly
because your I.Q. stands for Incomparable Queen,
I love you religiously
because you are my ideal woman
wild...demanding...giving...punishing
you won't allow me to wallow in false satisfaction,
refusing to let me stray into helpless heartbeats,

I know that I love you because I cannot say Goodbye...
I ask you with grateful pride,
Why do you love me...
with pleasure poised on an open smile you say...
I love you because you have the touch of an angel...

J.A.B.

Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2015


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Riding Misty

Though Santa never responded to pleas
There was just one gift on my list each year
A horse that could run at the speed of light
A bold little gal; I never had fear

With two high school friends I visited a ranch
To ride in 103-degree heat
Through the bramble bushes and prickly pears
Upon little “Misty” I took my seat

The Mustang Adoption Program’s success
Sparked ranchers from Tucson, Arizona
To give a home to a rust-colored mare
Many miles from my home near Daytona

Cryptic white markings graced Misty’s neck
Looked like words in Native American code
“She’s so small,” I whined, seeking to ride fast
But no matter, to the desert we rode

Even the roadrunners were envious 
When Misty gained speed and hit her full stride
Warp speed!  I clung to the saddle horn
As Misty passed larger horses with pride

My hat fell on a cactus, sweat filled my eyes
My life flashed before me, quite a surprise
It seemed like she had wings as we flew
Don’t be quick to judge a horse by its size

I thank Misty often for the ride she gave me
She fulfilled my dream and gave me a thrill
But on the news today a reporter said
Wild horses would now be rounded up and killed

I’m so grateful I had the chance to ride
A wild horse with spirit and awesome speed
But what will become of her ancestors
Misty’s now part of a vanishing breed



*For Frank's "One Standout Day" contest
by Carolyn Devonshire

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Heat Source Hunger

Wonder not
if my thoughts are thrilled and twisted
daily and deeply by the albums of your ways,
I succumb severely to the impulse of imminent interplay
so dumb with joy, grateful for the fusion of our fevers,
I've never let you leave my mind,
you haven't finished eating your portion of my heart,
there is so much more for you, still in my chest, on my eyes,

I am your rare happiness,
that bare beast of a woman's best distress,
trigger your storm sirens with a single drop of Goodbye,
serve you with the most sensational sadness,
replenish your youth with an admiration that won't die,
knowing that I am not a makeshift man, nor a loyalty within a lie,
that I'll punish your pulse with peppered pleasure
because I can, because I must,
pull your hair just to hear those breaths beg for big flares,
treat the smooth and sweet lascerations of love's lament
butterfly cut into the surface of a girl's search for sincerity,
we get intoxicated on performance of personality,
buzzed beautifully from believing in the addiction of adoration's affliction,

We know we can handle one another's hurt
as warriors bleed hard because they sell themselves the sacrafice,
that we can process history with humor by breaking the shame of blame,
synthesize epiphany with sympathy to nourish symphonies of Divinity
we realize that intensity is the regal implement of our tournament, 

I like it when you tell me the tough truths,
that you want to be loved for more than one reason,
that being respected in segments isn't enough,
that he will never be me,
that words can outlast the disappointment of distance,
that the world overwhelms you when you most expect,
that sometimes you'd rather be a heart attack
before being a pretty song or a favorite memory,
I understand your need for absolute affection, absolute attention,
lets allow our love to be confusing, dazzling, on the verge of villainy, 
it isn't steady as a sleeping heart beat
or ready for celebration like a " gee wiz " graduation,
it is our Love, and its undefinably volatile and lovely,

Your cosmos gives a question that feeds one answer,
that love is ours, safe in the arms Armageddon, 
I remember the ember of our future
spazing on the hearth of fresh earth,
don't ever miss me Babe, just keep lovin me -

J.A.B.

Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Unwed Teen Mothers and Poverty

At internet dating sites secrets are hidden
On his roller coaster of lies, Pam had ridden
Though she agreed to meet Joe in a public park
The sun had already set; it was growing dark

No families or lovers were strolling around
When Jim came from behind and pushed Pam to the ground
Pam went home and was afraid to tell her parents
In four months there was a change in her appearance

Pam left home and started living on the streets
Turning away from every stranger she’d meet
‘Neath neon lights on a cardboard box she lay
Night after night, visiting soup kitchens by day

In her eighth month she found a home for pregnant teens
As her mom endured the torment of fearful dreams
Time neared and Pam called home crying, “Mom, I’ve done wrong!”
Grateful mom said, “Dear, I’d have been there all along"

Lifting Pam up from the grasp of dire poverty
Her parents welcomed the newborn to their family
If she hadn’t made that call, Pam would not have known
The comfort she’d receive in her parents’ fine home



* Entry for Gwendolen’s “Mom, I’m Pregnant” contest.

According to Douglas J. Besharov with the University of Maryland’s School of Public 
Policy, almost half of all families headed by women under age 18 have incomes 
below the poverty line. This is almost five times the poverty rate of two-parent 
families with children. 

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011


Details | Grateful Poem | |

When Poets Make Love

My dear poet- 
I am forever grateful to you
For allowing my body
To be your page 

Letting your words 
Ascend on my temple
And descend 
On my feet

How long will I thank God 
For giving me you
As our passionate and artistic sessions
Gracefully formed poetry in motion

Lord knows 
My body yearned 
And needed the eloquence 
Your poetry provided 

Our poetry combined 
Gave birth to volcanic verses 
And flood-like rushes 
Of the most liberated conversation

My poet laureate
Thank you for allowing 
Your art to transcend 
Into poetic actions

Your ability to allow 
Your love to flow 
Like a pen on paper
Amazes me

When poets make love 
Sacred books 
Unlock their meanings 
And the majestic powers of words 
Fill the universe 
With marvelous expressions 

Our collaborated efforts 
Awakened the most powerful of poets 
Who long ago fell asleep
Happily summoned with the stars 
To congratulate our poetic bliss 

When we made love 
Our poetry was forever 
Imprinted in the hearts 
of all poets 
past, present, and yet to come


-Written and dedicated to a very dear poet (R.C.) 

© Monique McDowell 2008  All rights Reserved

Copyright © Monique McDowell | Year Posted 2008


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Thank You

Another beautiful day has come to a close putting on my royal blue silken pajamas I call to my sweet one come take hold of my outstretched hand. We bow our heads and thank Him. Lord thank you for another terrific day for allowing the sun to rise up and shine thank you for warm gentle breezes that allowed us to fly our kites bringing so many bubbly smiles on our children Thank you dear Lord for the flowing stream and the wildflowers we saw along the way in our hunt for frogs and turtles. Thank you Lord for the food that we ate and the air that we breathed. It was such an exhilarating day. Thank you Lord for all the joy you bring the song of love you allow me to sing Thank you for bringing into my life a most beautiful soul, for gorgeous and happy children, and for making our lives whole So much to be grateful for dear Lord but none of my humble words are ever enough to praise you. Dear Lord It's my time to beg now So dont go away just yet I beg you for forgiveness for any harm I might have caused to my sister, or my brother to my working colleagues or any other I beg forgivness for all the times I choose the pleasure of darkness over what is really the bright side of life. Dear Lord, make men better husbands and make me a good wife. Dear Lord I beg you let not envy, power, success nor selfishness steal the purpose of my living and of what is right. Make me a better person Lord Help me choose You as my guide Let me be a faitful being to those who are in burden Help me to do little things everyday little things that make a difference to those i love, and those who pass my way Let me be a lending ear Let my smile relieve some pain Let me be at least one colour of the rainbow in their loneliness, in tearful rain Dear lord may those I meet in every street recognize I am Your own, not from my words but from my kindred deeds Last but not least, fill my heart with blissful grace as I share this serene night with the one you chose for me the one who has the most angelic face. Together Lord we thank you

Copyright © Cupids Arrow | Year Posted 2015


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Pride Of Poetry

The Pride Of Poetry

Tribute To
Kim Patrice Nunez @ poetrysoup.com

Like sunrise in the morning
or darkness of the night.
Even shadows hearken to her
when she sits down to write.

Oceans all grow restless
there's a stirring up above.
Clouds move so the moon can see
as she writes words of love.

Storms are brewing in the skies
her anger's not forbidden.
Be grateful for the skies of blue
on days her anger's hidden.

Tonight today is almost gone.
She's poetry's long lost lover.
When this day is over
she'll sit and write another.

With mountain tops and butterflies
and valleys filled with springs.
Lovers lost along the way
and sometimes angels wings.

As she looks through eyes of love
 and only she can see.
What each new day's going to bring
the pride of poetry.

Edwin C Hofert

Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Gothic Loneliness


Darksome night and shining moon,
hearken to her echo In blue...
fragmanted woods spreading aroma..
The scars of my karma turn erotica... 
She didnt fly she is coming down...
A faithful eve, wearing a black gown..
I was born in love with thee,
So why this world stands in between..?
I am her posession, She is my darkness..
Oh how I wish this world to embrace..
 I hate this blood soaked field of glory,
I am grateful to her for this soliditary..
A tiny grain of ego, lust and lies...
Divinity told her to break the ice...
Seeing world in such postition...
Universe laugh for the  final perdition...
She blessed me with divine words,
Which never connects me with this world...!

Copyright © Sarah Bhurgari | Year Posted 2014


Details | Grateful Poem | |

The Whispered Song

The warrior lays her weary head, 
With heavy heart she cannot bear, 
Burning tears stream down her face, 
As whispered memories touch the ear.

Her armour tarnished by remorse, 
Her battle-cry a wimpered row, 
Her wounds, of which bleed solitude, 
Will never know forgiveness now.

The song began two score ago, 
When two came knocking at her door, 
In need of refuge from the world, 
Of that, and love, and little more.

Forced to fight for every smile, 
Her only solace found in song, 
She longed for love to rescue her, 
And plant her where she could belong.

Jealous tongues are seldom kind, 
Self-seeking hearts know nought of love, 
The caged canary only sings, 
When coaxed to praise from up above.

For the steely spine that now I own, 
Forever shall I grateful be, 
A gift from her, and from her own. 
Courage mounted inwardly.

I'll not forget how I have loved thee, 
And youthful memories I will prize, 
Til on the shore of His forgiveness, 
Whereto now, we both shall rise.


Copyright © Yvonne Evanoff | Year Posted 2011


Details | Grateful Poem | |

This Special Time of Year

We may not have a "White Christmas", yet joy remains the same I find delight in viewing candles reflected on frosted panes They remind me to be grateful for warmth and light so near Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year A scenic view of white smoke rising from the chimney tall Dainty snow flakes falling as kids roll them into balls They sail against blustery winds and I wonder how they dare! Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year Sweet music heralding peace, urges hearts to spread some joy! Displayed is a wooden Nativity Scene to greet you at the door A glittering tree with twinkling stars stands proudly at the rear! Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year Fresh pine garlands dress stair rails with large red velvet bows The aroma of cinnamon and pine saturates, delighting one’s nose While a cozy wood fireplace glows, inviting, daydream stares Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year The baking’s almost done; and tons of sweets are ensured Though, there will not be any Christmas pudding this year, for sure Mama’s been gone home a while, yet the many memories linger here Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year Whatever may happen in life, Christmas joy lives in the heart A warm home and loving hearts have sufficed from the start Much food, drinks and good conversation; lots of fun to share! Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year “Less formal” is my style preferred, so do relax if you please Sit on the floor, take off those shoes; dance or just be a tease When you feel stuffed and need a nap, if you snore, have no fear! Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year ~*~

Copyright © Annalise a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2010


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Kind Feelings

Never got to say all I needed too..
Motionless words as this bird flew..

Now I look out my window to reach 
your mind..
I talk to the sky and send feelings
that are kind..

On a quiet night when your thoughts 
are clear..
Out your window they fly with no harm
or fear..

If you smile for no reason, I'll know why..
Maybe just a few have reached your eyes..


For PD's contest... The reason I picked this piece is because this past month I was able to hear from this lady for whom I wrote this piece about.. I emailed it to her and she was so grateful that I still cared enough to write for her..It gave us closer and helped us both realize why we are better where we are now... love doesn't stop it just gets transformed into a better friendship...

Copyright © Michael J. Falotico | Year Posted 2011


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Faithful to you

I see you my dear 
fighting with no fear.
The struggle is stressful,
but here I am my first love -
to you am always faithful!!

God is good to me,
and to you am always grateful -
yes they call me forgetful, 
but for you am always thankful;
Amazingly graceful!!! 

Say yes!!! To love,
and no!! To sex -
self destructing your self
than tell me what's next!!
Your dignity be worked out
more than a bow-flex.
What a mess!!!
Just for a few seconds of sex!!


Let's all be one Love
and Jehovah will bless

A Dios yo le digo-
Gracias!!
por hablar contigo
te adoro y te vendigo
for not having that dumb male-ego,

y este sentimiento -
tan profundo ;
I will always be faithful to you -
hasta el fin del mundo!!

"Without God, we are like a boat in the middle of the ocean without a wind on our favor!!"

Copyright © Diogenes Zuniga | Year Posted 2009


Details | Grateful Poem | |

The Red Babushka

Nineteen twenty-four and the wind was cold,
When men in uniform entered our town;
Forced us to leave in their boxcars,
Made us believe that it was for our own safety.

With no time to fix our things
We hurriedly got in the box.
And when everyone was in,
The doors were locked.

The place was hell
For not even a whisper of wind 
Could enter the place,
Nor could a light shine through its walls.

Our eyes were dry and lips cracked
Plead for just a single drop;
As four nights and days we travelled
Inside the cars with no food or water.

The box unimaginable in its very state,
For dung and human liquid fragranced the place.
Weak-hearted both young and old struggled to live
Even the strong wished not to survive.

And on the fourth day, the box went to a halt!
Survivors were singing songs to God;
“Please end this tormented journey,
And deliver us home safely.”
Light shone as the heavy doors were opened!
We dropped to our knees
Hoping the place was Paradise
But Paradise was it not for we were in Hell. 

Ironically, the gate held words
Like that as ‘Beware of the Dog.’
Written in frostbitten wood saying:
“ARBEIT MACHT FREI.”

My mind was puzzled upon seeing those,
How could labor set you free,
When labor here meant
Dying in force and agony.

Schnell! 
Jew, work or die!
Schnell!
Jew, never complain and lie!

Those were the words 
That became music in our ears,
As we bent our bones
Working for freedom that is bound.

Schnell!
Jew, form your lines!
Schnell!
Jew, the choosing has come!

And in this place we call Hell,
An Angel waits for preys.
Not to feed to its cherubim
But to the ovens decay.

Schnell!
Jew, old and sick!
Schnell!
Jew, to the ovens burn!

As the sun paints the sky red,
A gray smoke danced with the setting clouds,
And in the heavens, the old and sick smile
Grateful to be forever free from the Angel.

On and on, the days passed by
Not faster but years it seem.
Millions were killed by the monsters of time,
Feeding them to the hungry gas ovens.

Then one even night,
I dreamt of food, of home,
Of freedom and safety
And a voice calling me to follow.

I had no choice but to obey,
For in that moment I was already tired,
Sick and losing hope that once was mine
But seem to be forever lost. 

On the 16th of March,
I lied still in my shelf.
I slept forever smiling,
With my red babushka in hand.

But disappointed and angry was I
To share the very day of my death
To the birth of the Malach-ha-mavis:
The Angel of Death.

Copyright © Joseph Sabido | Year Posted 2011


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Shattered Dream: a Bride story

Come near me, my love.
Come and hold my hands.
I've been merrily waiting for you.
Can you hear that wistful piano sound?
Everyone had gathered, prayers are spoken. 
 
Come near me, my love.
Come and sit on my side.
Why can't you speak a word?
Don't you think I look beautiful in this trousseau? 
Now, wear me the ring, for I can't wait to say I do.

Come near me, my love
Come now and gaze on my face as you usually did.
Oh I wish I could dry your tears,
I wish I can smile and whisper in your ear
How grateful I am for the moments we had.

Come near me, my love
Come now and bring me flowers
Hand me a perfect bouquet of love.
Because I did love you until my end
And I will be blessing you, even in this death.

Copyright © Shirley Candy | Year Posted 2013


Details | Grateful Poem | |

Guardian Angel

Just a small girl, an innocent rose bud
lost in daydreams while she walked
home from school, for several blocks.

It was a fine, spring day in Berkeley
warm sun's rays peaked through leaves
amidst the trees, by sidewalk streets.

Her school bag in hand, preoccupied
"Don't step on a crack or on a line
keep to the spaces, and you'll be fine."

And so she played the sidewalk game
until a call was heard, from mother dear
across the street, her voice so clear.

Without a thought, she ran to meet
her mother, yet she was unaware
of a speeding car, out of nowhere.

The vehicle descended fast
upon the child, on that center divide
within a split second, she could die.

And then, a supernatural event
as forces, unforeseen, took place
a split second, she flew to the sidewalk, safe.

This little girl had turned, was lifted up  
then gently placed, she had escaped
was gathered by angel's arms, embraced.
 
My mother saw it all, before her very eyes
her child, rescued, by a miracle that day
and I, the little girl, am grateful I was saved.




Written on 10/6/2015 

Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2015


Details | Grateful Poem | |

POETRYSOUP HEROES

I'm only allowed the names of three
so I will write of those that would be for me.
There are so many that this is unfair
but, since that is the rule I must list there:

Carolyn Devonshire who gave me the courage to write
with her words of encouragement on this site.
She always found a "silver lining" in my work,
and never told me that I write like a jerk.

Tho it has been years since I've been around
her help and inspiration never set me aground.
She never left me twisting in the wind alone
as she helped my poorest works to hone.

There is also a Poet Destroyer for whom I have praise
I wish my words to her level I could raise.
Why her "Poet Destroyer" pen name I could never see
unless, of course, you compare mine to her poetry.

Mine is crushed by the words she can write
but I am ever grateful to her for wanting to put mine to flight.
When you have a writer who can put you to shame,
it's only natural that you want to do the same.

CayCay Jennings is my third choice
as she has helped me to "refind" my voice.
I appreciate her critiques of the work I do
all I can give is a big "THANK YOU".

She was one of the first to welcome me back here
and always gave me words of good cheer.
Her suggestions have been given with such grace
sometimes they put a smile on my face.

There is her writing which is also so stellar
as compared to mine, some of which belong in a cellar.
Some of the things she has written down
Have with me, a deeper meaning found.

So these are the three heroes that I must name
but so many more have done the same.
Not only are there poets whose names I could not call
to give them the honors they should have one and all.

Yes, I have heroes here unnamed
because my pen had to be tamed.
But know that I appreciate each and all that you do
Whenever I write, I'm thinking of you. 


written:  10/30/15



Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2015