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Long My children Poems | Long My children Poetry

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Long poem by Carl Halling | Details | . You can read it on PoetrySoup.com' st_url='http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/snapshots_from_a_childs_west_london_651174' st_title='Snapshots from a Child's West London'>

Snapshots from a Child's West London

I remember my cherished Wolf Cub pack, 
How I loved those Wednesday evenings, 
The games, the pomp and seriousness of the camps, 
The different coloured scarves, sweaters and hair 
During the mass meetings, 
The solemnity of my enrolment, 
Being helped up a tree by an older boy, 
Baloo, or Kim, or someone, 
To win my Athletics badge, 
Winning my first star, my two year badge, 
And my swimming badge 
With its frog symbol, the kindness of the older boys.
                                                                    
I remember a child's West London.
                                                                    
One Saturday afternoon, after a football match
During which I dirtied my boots 
By standing around as a sub in the mud, 
And my elbow by tripping over a loose shoelace, 
An older boy offered to take me home. 
We walked along streets, 
Through subways crammed with rowdies, 
White or West Indian, in black gym shoes. 
"Shuddup!" my friend would cheerfully yell, 
And they did.
"We go' a ge' yer 'oame, ain' we mite, ay?"
"Yes. Where exactly are you taking me?" I asked.
                                                                    
"The bus stop at Chiswick 'Oigh Stree' 
Is the best plice, oi reck'n."
"Yes, but not on Chiswick High Street,"
I said, starting to sniff.
"You be oroight theah, me lil' mite."
I was not convinced. 
The uncertainty of my ever getting home 
Caused me to start to bawl,
And I was still hollering 
As we mounted the bus. 
I remember the sudden turning of heads. 
It must have been quite astonishing 
                                                                    
For a peaceful busload of passengers 
To have their everyday lives 
Suddenly intruded upon 
By a group of distressed looking Wolf Cubs, 
One of whom, the smallest,
Was howling red-faced with anguish 
For some undetermined reason. 
After some moments, my friend, 
His brow furrowed with regret, 
As if he had done me some wrong, said:
"I'm gonna drop you off 
Where your dad put you on."
                                                                    
Within seconds, the clouds dispersed, 
And my damp cheeks beamed. 
Then, I spied a street I recognised
From the bus window, and got up, 
Grinning with all my might:
"This'll do," I said. 
"Wai', Carl," cried my friend, 
Are you shoa vis is 'oroigh'?"
"Yup!" I said. I was still grinning
As I spied my friend's anxious face 
In the glinting window of the bus 
As it moved down the street.
                                                                    
I remember a child's West London.
                                                                    
One Wednesday evening, 
When the Pops was being broadcast 
Instead of on Thursday, 
I was rather reluctant to go to Cubs, 
And was more than usually uncooperative 
With my father as he tried 
To help me find my cap, 
Which had disappeared.
Frustrated, he put on his coat 
And quietly opened the door. 
I stepped outside into the icy atmosphere 
Wearing only a pair of underpants,
                                                                    
And to my horror, he got into his black Citroen 
And drove off. I darted down Esmond Road,  
Crying and shouting. 
My tearful howling was heard by Margaret, 
19 year old daughter of Mrs Helena Jacobs, 
Whom my mother used to help 
With the care and entertainment 
Of Thalidomide children. 
Helena Jacobs expended so much energy 
On feeling for others,  
That when my mother tried to get in touch 
In the mid '70s, she seemed exhausted, 
                                                                    
And quite understandably, 
For Mrs O'Keefe, her cleaning lady 
And friend for the main part 
Of her married life
Had recently been killed in a road accident. 
I remember that kind 
And beautiful Irish lady, 
Her charm, happiness and sweetness, 
She was the salt of the earth. 
She threatened to ca-rrown me
When I went away to school...
If I wrote her not.
                                                                    
Margaret picked me up
And carried me back to my house. 
I put on my uniform 
As soon as she had gone home, 
Left a note for my Pa, 
And went myself to Cubs. 
When Pa arrived to pick me up, 
The whole ridiculous story 
Was told to Akela, 
Baloo and Kim, 
Much, much, much to my shame.
                                                                    
I remember a child's West London.
                                                                    
The year was 1963, the year of the Beatles, 
Of singing yeah, yeah, yeah in the car, 
Of twisting in the playground, 
Of "I'm a Beatlemaniac, are you?"
That year, I was very prejudiced 
Against an American boy, Raymond, 
Who later became my friend. 
I used to attack him for no reason, 
Like a dog, just to assert my superiority. 
One day, he gave me a rabbit punch in the stomach 
And I made such a fuss that my little girlfriend, Nina,
Wanted to escort me to the safety of our teacher, 
                                                                    
Hugging me, and kissing me intermittently 
On my forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks. 
She forced me to see her:
"Carl didn't do a thing," said Nina, 
"And Raymond came up and gave him 
Four rabbit punches in the stomach."
Raymond was not penalized, 
For Mademoiselle knew 
What a little demon I was, 
No matter how hurt 
And innocent I looked, 
Tearful, with my tail between my legs.
                                                                    
I remember a child's West London.


Long poem by KAYOD5 Kayode | Details |

Baby brot bringer

Incredible! Where could little girl of her age be going under this cold weather at this hour barefootedly and bareheadedly?What could have sent a poor girl she was to street with just oversized slippers she inherited form her mother, poor enough, jettisoned on this two line express road?These and many more were  concerns that agitated my mind.I therefore chose to spy or should i say monitor her;i wanted to know where she would enter and possibly  who she was,stealthily i followed her.It appeared she knew where she was going,the poor girl walked straight without betraying any sign of  lost of destination.Exactly  twenty minutes now that I had been following her,we had passed many streets:Macualy street, Kingsway  and the popular Lord Lugard Avenue yet she moved on.It was at the junction between Broard street and UAC that she forked right; she looked back,i quickly blocked her view as i hid me behind one abandoned lorry in my front,she did not see me. It took us another ten minutes before she suddenly stopped,in her front now was  the city refuse dump were disused items were deposited; she rolled up her cloth and brought out a  jute sack; she opened the sack and brought out a sickle and moved with a zeal to the hill of garbage. I stood behind a container that was put there long time ago by the Council for refuse collection,it was now overfilled           with refuse and this gave me an advantage to hide behind it without been seen by the girl;needless to say how stinking it was,yet i befriended it,it was the only shield i needed now. For almost an hour she was searching through the hill ,it was not too easy for her; first,it was almost dark now, again, the whole hill had been covered with snow but she was using the sickle to wipe away the white substance anywhere she suspected that what she was looking for was. As she was searching she was picking somethings and dropping them in the sack which  was now  half-full . Again, she bent down but this time she did not pick anything rather she dropped the sickle in her hand and began to look at her sole, within few seconds she started coming down from the hill; what could have happened to her sole? At the base of the hill she sat down and held tightly her sole,now I could see her clearer,drops of blood were flowing down off her heel. I could now longer hide myself,i was moved by the sadness that appeared on her innocent face,poor still, she did not know what to do.
I quickly ran to her,she was shocked to see me but still held tightly  her sole. I did not waste  time on introduction but went straight to ask her what had happened to her sole,she told me a broken bottle had cut her there. I bent down to look at the cut,it was not too deep,but deep enough to  affect the poor girl if something was not quickly done. Luckily  i had a nylon- water on me, i opened it, washed the cut and bound it with a new handkerchief I had earlier bought to use the following day when I would be attending the first church service of the year. It was not a perfect first aid but a non perfect  aid was better than none . Now I asked her who she was and what was she doing where we were. She introduced herself as Lisa, nine years and that she was looking for plastics and other polythene materials that she could sell at recycling factory. I asked why she had to do that  she said she and her grandmother had not even a brot at home and if she did not do this certainly they would be starved.  Wondering why she should be responsible for that i pressed , "what about your parents?" " My mother had been abducted by the terrorists who  killed my father and my two brothers three years ago."  Big air escaped my nostrils as I became rock-still with this unpalatable bombshell. Seconds later I gathered myself,brought Lisa up and told her I would help her back home. She thanked me for the help but insisted that she would not be going home now,she must first go to the factory to exchange her stock for money. " it is too late Lisa, i don't think any factory will still be opened by now,besides you now have a cut on your sole", i explained. "The pay master in the factory had promised to wait for me till 10pm, i already had stock with him ,i just needed to add some weight to reach the required purchase-level,i must not fail on my terms lest he loses the confidence that for more than two years now,he has in me ; besides, grandma", she paused as if she remembered a thing, " tomorrow is new year, i have promised her good meal tomorrow" ; her voice cracked as if she wanted to cry,emotion envloped me as the word grandama reverbrated in my ears; my mind wandered about : poor girl,wretched old woman; how many millions of Lisa and her grandma were out there for the stupidity of some? My eyes became red and urge filled my mind,the zeal to confront terrorism,the joy of Christmas and new year in me evaporated; what was merriment of Christmas with millions of Lisa there? What was happiness of new year with millions of her grandma in our World?


Long poem by randall graves | Details |

Life in a Dream corrected

Moments to Reflect
Life found in a Dream 
Today I’m a lonely man living in a cold, cold world filled with indifferences and malice. As time marches on a harsh reality come to my mind, time is on no one’s sided, it is only given once and all must die and tomorrow is not guaranteed. This seems so mean because having no one to really love or so it seemed, I was just a lone no one was on my team.
I started to think and reminisce about the think in life that I missed. Tears appeared in my eyes and my heart skips a beat so I lay down and felled into a deep, deep sleep. Suddenly and to my surprise I was on a beach with soft sand underneath feet. The sky was so blue and the air smelled oh so sweet; it dawned on me that this was a place few have ever seen.
I walk down to the water and what did I see; the sea was strange so let me explain; it was made of crystal with a glow all of its own and the waves gave off a musical tone. As my mind adjusted to sounds and the sight I spied out another wonderful delight. There across the sea, a city brighter than the northern lights, oh what a beautiful sight.
I fell down to my knees overwhelmed by the glory that was before me. I thought that I had died and stepped to the other side. I knew what I was seeing before just could not be true, such beauty, it could not exist, not in my world, never like this. A melody that I have never heard before arose from the City across that crystal sea. It had to be played by Angels, the music was so, so sweet; that I felt a joy from my head to my feet and knew deep in my heart that was where I belong,
Just when I decided to dive in and swim to the other side, I heard a soft voice call out my name. I turned around to see who it was that called out my name. There He was this gentle looking Man with sadness in His eyes. He spoke to me and this is what He said; my son, my son you cannot dive in and swim to the other side. So I ask Him why I can’t swim to the other side, that’s easy for me, am going to try.  No, no, no it not for you it not your time was His only reply. I did not understand His reason but I felt His command and suddenly my feet was stuck in the sand, I cried out with hurt and pain in my voice; what lies on the other side, who are you and why can I not go on the other side?
This is the story that He told:
The city that you see beyond the crystal sea it belongs to me and it has streets that are paved in gold. There are many mansions lining the roads and in each one there are treasures that are a wonders to behold. There is no hunger, sickness or death, life everlasting and there you will find rest and for all eternity you will be My guest.  Now I will answer your second question, my son, my son; I Am, who I Am! I came to earth a long time ago and I prepared The Way for all my children to come home. This is some that you should know, for it was written for all to read a long time ago. I am always with you in your times of needs you are never ever all alone. Last but not the least you ask me why; my son, my son it’s just not your time. 
Seek and you will find, knock and the door will be open, and until you love Me, it will never be. Now go back and remember what you seen and what you have heard, because time grows short. Spread My words that My kingdom draws near, repent, repent and stop causing Me tears.
I suddenly opened my eyes and I was home in my bed and I start to cry. Never have I felt such joy and peace deep within. I went down on my knees and I ask the Lord Jesus to please come in and would you please forgive me of all of my sins, please come and live inside of me until the end. I now sow the seeds and when the harvest comes the Lord will know if they landed on fertile ground. Keep this in mind cause when it is time He will separate wheat from the weeds and set all of His children free.
(Warning, Warning)
The time is now, and do it before it to late! 
Time is on no one side.
Everyone want to go to heaven but no one want to die.
You do not have to worry if you have Jesus inside.
He there for the asking want you try
Do you want Him? He want you, it about free will and you must choose.
The Gift is free, Heaven are hell which will it be?
I hope that I have sowed a seed and it will grow, but it will only grow if you truly believe and have faith deep within your heart and soul.
Time waits for no one!
Faith is something sight unseen will you not set your spirit free? Is it so hard for you to believe that Jesus is the answer and all you need? The door is open want you please come in? Don’t you think it time to find that Kingdom that is way up high filled with riches up in the sky?
 


Long poem by Carrie Richards | Details |

MOCKINGBIRD - crown of sonnets

#1 "It is a sin to kill a Mockingbird. When playing games with rocks or guns, defray, them, please, ...shoot old tin cans!" "Whispered words of Mockingbirds, only heal wounds of the day" Virtues are cultivated, children are weeds, exploring a small southern town. Seeds, so rare, spread moral ivy, filling knotholes, threading trees, lining streets, during mad-dog summers. Scout, one sprout with solid roots, sifts wrong from right in spite of bull-headed pride. Stirring up dust, where resistance incites, although, brother, Jem, gently, grows more reserved. Scout, Jem, ...best bud, "Dill", are bronzed by summer's sky Moral's compass guides them home, as night returns #2 Moral's compass guides them home, as night returns yet challenged, the precocious child making assumptions. Folks would confound her! Some people were an oddity and quite beguiling Summer would sigh with ceiling fans, softly purring, people napping, long afternoons. Wilted yawns of a lethargic town, might seem undisturbed, with complacency, behind pruned shrubs, tall grass, mowed. Yet stilted air, would suffocate, with racial slurs and secret hate. Some hid by day, and spending their nights in masquerade, while crosses burned. We'd see a face, pretentious smile, falsely blend Integrity, at bitter cost, split wide the seams in 1930. Civil rights were just a dream #3 In 1930, civil rights were just a dream, and motherless children were coming of age. Bare feet were swift. Bandaged knees and hands unclean, would slam old screen doors, to seek lemonade. A ghost, they feared, in the raw sided house, watched close. A tree in his yard, hid treasures he stashed. The three Musketeers, upon discovering, shout! Armed by bravado, they are ready to dash. Putting yourself into another man's shoes, is a lesson, soon learned by Scout and Jem. They've faced their fear, and will make a friend. "Boo", the 'phantom', a new best friend left trinkets and gems. Kindness learned, role model intact, was Atticus Finch. A measure of integrity, inch by inch. #4 A measure of integrity, inch by inch, advocate for those who won't stand a chance. Folks down on their luck, where dollars won't stretch in a depression full blown. Money is scant. Fighting for the underdog, who have no paycheck. What's right is right. What's wrong, is wrong. Someone must stand at the end of the day, where flies fill a courtroom and tempers grow stronger. Regardless of skin, be it black, be it white Unfit, by standards of talcum shaved chins, if injustice is war, he'll give his lot. The falsely accused, he'll defend, to the end Those who wallow in mud, eventually sling lies when honor goes to hell, and folks sit idle #5 When honor goes to hell, and folks sit idle, false accusations can simmer, slowly inciting bigoted people, into mobs, spewing cries of hate. Screaming "rape" into the night. Ignorance and prejudice, are all of one stuff with corn-likker sauce and gravy mentality, amphibian worms, as if from a trough, gorging on mania. They covet brutality. Led by Bob Ewell, with arrogance oozing. Clan- fed, tantrums squirming out of control. Small minded men, choosing squalor, alluding the truth. Some would sell their mother's soul. They have lied on the stand, where justice treaded thin. Where white man's word, over a black, always wins. #6 Where a white man's word, over black, always wins, was a rule of the thumb, during those years... The innocent man, Tom, shackled, condemned, taken away and waits to die, and endure With Indian summer, waxing and waning, Atticus chooses the simplest words. His children need, wisdom, and calm understanding, in trying to explain, that most men are good. He tells them, gently, how someone so crude, even Bob Ewell, no matter how evil perhaps in his life, was misunderstood. The hellish of summers begins to unravel. But another ill wind, would brew up a storm, to bring more than a flurry, into their home. #7 To bring more than a flurry into their home, burnt embers of color, drift down, red and yellow. Carved pumpkins, and a grieving autumn, looms in the night. Roaches encroach, deep in the shadows As Scout rushes homeward, behind her on the trail, a whiskey-breath nightmare, with evil intentions Then, someone appears! Halts this devil,...,Ewell is not immortal! .....as we come to conclusion. A guardian presence, waiting to rally has kept a vigil, guarding children who run, swiftly through thickets. Lonely Boo Radley, appeared like an angel, a bird seeking the sun So pure of heart, and a thing so rare It is a sin to kill a mockingbird
2/17/14


Long poem by randall graves | Details |

Life found in a Dream

Life found in a Dream 
Today I’m a lonely man living in a cold, cold world filled with indifferences and malice. As time marches on a harsh reality come to my mind, time is on no one’s sided, it is only given once and all must die and tomorrow is not guaranteed. This seems so mean because having no one to really love or so it seemed, I was just a lone no one was on my team.
I started to think and reminisce about the think in life that I missed. Tears appeared in my eyes and my heart skips a beat so I lay down and felled into a deep, deep sleep. Suddenly and to my surprise I was on a beach with soft sand underneath feet. The sky was so blue and the air smelled oh so sweet; it dawned on me that this was a place few have ever seen.
I walk down to the water and what did I see; the sea was strange so let me explain; it was made of crystal with a glow all of its own and the waves gave off a musical tone. As my mind adjusted to sounds and the sight I spied out another wonderful delight. There across the sea, a city brighter than the northern lights, oh what a beautiful sight.
I fell down to my knees overwhelmed by the glory that was before me. I thought that I had died and stepped to the other side. I knew what I was seeing before just could not be true, such beauty, it could not exist, not in my world, never like this. A melody that I have never heard before arose from the City across that crystal sea. It had to be played by Angels, the music was so, so sweet; that I felt a joy from my head to my feet and knew deep in my heart that was where I belong,
Just when I decided to dive in and swim to the other side, I heard a soft voice call out my name. I turned around to see who it was that called out my name. There He was this gentle looking Man with sadness in His eyes. He spoke to me and this is what He said; my son, my son you cannot dive in and swim to the other side. So I ask Him why I can’t swim to the other side, that’s easy for me, am going to try.  No, no, no it not for you it not your time was His only reply. I did not understand His reason but I felt His command and suddenly my feet was stuck in the sand, I cried out with hurt and pain in my voice; what lies on the other side, who are you and why can I not go on the other side?
                                     This is the story that He told:
The city that you see beyond the crystal sea it belongs to me and it has streets that are paved in gold. Many mansions lining the roads and in each one there are treasure that are a wonder to behold. There is no hunger, sickness or death, life everlasting and there you can find rest, for all eternity you will be My guest.  Now I will answer your second question, my son, my son; I Am, who I Am! I came to earth a long time ago prepare The Way for all my children to come home. This is some that you should know, for it was written for all a long time ago and I am always with you in your times of needs you are never ever all alone. Last but not the least you ask me why; my son, my son it not your time. 
Seek and you will find, knock and the door will be open, and until you love Me, it will never be. Now go back and remember what you seen and what you have heard, because time grows short. Spread My words that My kingdom draws near, repent, repent and stop causing Me tears.
I suddenly opened my eyes and I was home in my bed and I start to cry. Never have I felt such joy and peace deep within. I went down on my knees and I ask the Lord Jesus to please come in and would you please forgive me of all of my sins, please live inside of me until the end. I sow the seeds and when the harvest comes you will know where it can from. Keep this in mind cause when it is time He will separate wheat from the weeds and set all of His children free.
(Warning, Warning)
The time is now, and do it before it to late! 
Time is on no one side.
Everyone want to go to heaven but no one want to die.
You do not have to worry if you have Jesus inside.
He there for the asking want you try
Do you want Him? He want you, it about free will and you must choose.
The Gift is free, Heaven are hell which will it be?
I hope that I have sowed a seed and it will grow, but it will only grow if you truly believe and have faith deep within your heart and soul.
Time waits for no one!
Faith is something sight unseen will you not set your spirit free? Is it so hard for you to believe that Jesus is the answer and all you need? The door is open want you please come in? Don’t you think it time to find that Kingdom that is way up high filled with riches up in the sky?
 


Long poem by randall graves | Details |

Moment to Reflect

Today I’m a lonely man living in a cold, cold world filled with indifferences and malice. As time marches on a harsh reality come to my mind, time is on no one’s sided, it is only given once and all must die and tomorrow is not guaranteed. This seems so mean because having no one to really love or so it seemed, I was just a lone no one was on my team.
I started to think and reminisce about the think in life that I missed. Tears appeared in my eyes and my heart skips a beat so I lay down and felled into a deep, deep sleep. Suddenly and to my surprise I was on a beach with soft sand underneath feet. The sky was so blue and the air smelled oh so sweet; it dawned on me that this was a place few have ever seen.
I walk down to the water and what did I see; the sea was strange so let me explain; it was made of crystal with a glow all of its own and the waves gave off a musical tone. As my mind adjusted to sounds and the sight I spied out another wonderful delight. There across the sea, a city brighter than the northern lights, oh what a beautiful sight.
I fell down to my knees overwhelmed by the glory that was before me. I thought that I had died and stepped to the other side. I knew what I was seeing before just could not be true, such beauty, it could not exist, not in my world, never like this. A melody that I have never heard before arose from the City across that crystal sea. It had to be played by Angels, the music was so, so sweet; that I felt a joy from my head to my feet and knew deep in my heart that was where I belong,
Just when I decided to dive in and swim to the other side, I heard a soft voice call out my name. I turned around to see who it was that called out my name. There He was this gentle looking Man with sadness in His eyes. He spoke to me and this is what He said; my son, my son you cannot dive in and swim to the other side. So I ask Him why I can’t swim to the other side, that’s easy for me, am going to try.  No, no, no it not for you it not your time was His only reply. I did not understand His reason but I felt His command and suddenly my feet was stuck in the sand, I cried out with hurt and pain in my voice; what lies on the other side, who are you and why can I not go on the other side?
This is the story that He told:
The city that you see beyond the crystal sea it belongs to me and it has streets that are paved in gold. Many mansions lining the roads and in each one there are treasure that are a wonder to behold. There is no hunger, sickness or death, life everlasting and there you can find rest, for all eternity you will be My guest.  Now I will answer your second question, my son, my son; I Am, who I Am! I came to earth a long time ago prepare The Way for all my children to come home. This is some that you should know, for it was written for all a long time ago and I am always with you in your times of needs you are never ever all alone. Last but not the least you ask me why; my son, my son it not your time. 
Seek and you will find, knock and the door will be open, and until you love Me, it will never be. Now go back and remember what you seen and what you have heard, because time grows short. Spread My words that My kingdom draws near, repent, repent and stop causing Me tears.
I suddenly opened my eyes and I was home in my bed and I start to cry. Never have I felt such joy and peace deep within. I went down on my knees and I ask the Lord Jesus to please come in and would you please forgive me of all of my sins, please live inside of me until the end. I sow the seeds and when the harvest comes you will know where it can from. Keep this in mind cause when it is time He will separate wheat from the weeds and set all of His children free.
(Warning, Warning)
The time is now, and do it before it to late! 
Time is on no one side.
Everyone want to go to heaven but no one want to die.
You do not have to worry if you have Jesus inside.
He there for the asking want you try
Do you want Him? He want you, it about free will and you must choose.
The Gift is free, Heaven are hell which will it be?
I hope that I have sowed a seed and it will grow, but it will only grow if you truly believe and have faith deep within your heart and soul.
Time waits for no one!
Faith is something sight unseen will you not set your spirit free? Is it so hard for you to believe that Jesus is the answer and all you need? The door is open want you please come in? Don’t you think it time to find that Kingdom that is way up high filled with riches up in the sky?
 


Long poem by Joe Flach | Details |

My Conversation With God

I have been praying to God ever since I first understood the concept of a deity.  Although I have struggled through life with my acceptance of and belief in the religion I was force fed as a child, the praying has always stayed with me – on an almost every day basis.  In some way or some form or for some reason, it seems, I find myself praying to a God I am not sure I believe in.

Over the years, some of the things I have prayed for or prayed against have worked out in my favor.  Other things didn’t quite work out the way I had hoped.  So, I wondered, was this proof that my prayers are sometimes answered or simply the law of averages?  It really didn’t matter, I was programed to pray and so pray I do.

This has been going on pretty routinely for over 50 years; so, imagine my surprise when, for the first time last night, God talked back to me!

I may not get this exactly right, but, in essence, this is what He had to say:

(I am not sure what font to type God’s words in, so I will just keep on with the default.)

“Joe, Joe, Joe.  I have been listening to you for all your life.  And, whereas I do enjoy your thoughts; your words; and your sentiments; I find it is time for me to respond.

You really do pray a lot for lots of things.  Mostly good and humane things.  Mostly with a pure and caring heart.  But, son, you need to stop doing so much praying and start doing more stuff on your own.  I am not up here to make your life easier and to do things for you.

When you were young, instead of praying for that bicycle, you should have been doing chores to earn money towards buying it.  You could have cut more lawns, washed more cars, got a paper route, sold lemonade, or many other things other young boys were doing to earn money for the things that they wanted.

When you were in high school and prayed to me to help you do well in your wrestling matches, you should have, instead, been working harder at practice; spent more time on your conditioning; spent more time in the weight room; and studied harder on the art of wrestling.

In college, when you prayed for help on your mid-terms and finals, you should have, instead, spent more time studying and less time partying – I think that is something you already know.

Even when you pray on behalf of others – you should be doing more.

Instead of praying I would help old Mrs. Conner at the end of your street, you should have gotten up off your butt and walked down to the end of the street and looked in on her yourself.  You could have offered to go to the store for her, pick up her prescriptions or simply keep her company in her final years.

When you prayed for me to care for the starving children around the world, you should have been volunteering to help out yourself or donating more money towards this cause.  If you funneled all the money you spent on unnecessary junk food and extra meals you consumed throughout the years towards charities that help feed and clothe the poor, you could have saved many of the children you prayed that I would save.

Instead of praying that I cure your family, friends and acquaintances that you knew were ill or dying, you should have been visiting them in the hospital or writing them letters or providing assistance to their loved ones to help ease their pain.

Prayer is not the vehicle for you to be lazy and yet gain the rewards.  Prayer is not a means to have me do for others what you have the power and ability to do yourself.

I am glad that you talk to me, but you have been granted the ability and means to do so much more by yourself and yet you choose to take the easy way out and pray to me – the God that I know you are confused about.  Please, do me a favor, and before you pray, ask yourself, ‘Have I exhausted all avenues available to me to achieve the result I want God to perform?’ 

If, after you have done everything you can possibly do, then I may be more willing to consider what it is you ask for.

And now, my son, you can wake up.”

I sat up quickly in my bed, sweating and confused.  Was I just dreaming?  Was that really God talking to me?  Then, somewhere from deep inside, either from my conscious or a left-over message from the Almighty Himself, I thought (or heard): “What does it matter?  Whether it was God or not – the message is valid and something I probably already knew.”

“Well,” I said to myself, in prayer, “I will give it my best.  But, is it okay if we still talk?  It kind of helps to give me strength?”

Silence.

I will take that as a, “Yes”.


Long poem by liam mcdaid | Details |

A Most Irish Fairy Tale - Merry Christmas to All

It is not just Santa Claus who we meet in cold December— 
There is “Carolina,” and she’s the beauty of a winter picture perfect 
With luscious long coal black curly hair far down on her back 
As a true fairy princess, Carolina is quite beautiful with beaming

Blue eyes and that certain incandescent glow for all to see and 
Dressed in a sparkling white robe made of polar bear skins 
With a glossy coat sprinkled with pearls and diamonds . . . .

Out of the woods she comes so quiet in the night’s fresh snow 
With a glimpse of two deer and a fox on hunt walking carefully 
Carolina hopes the deer will walk around with angelic guard 
The secret is that beautiful Carolina talks the animals’ languages 
The birds they play in all its splendor fine without sorrows 
They fly while Carolina keeps watch carefully on the horizon 

Falling snow now dazzling Christmas in a ball circle most brilliant 
While there is a frozen frosted sprinkling silver in the mist shining sun
Oh so!! Wonderful to behold as the Spirit of Christmas comes alive . . . .

The Reindeer come alive and begin dancing joyfully together and 
Create such a melodic sound almost like bells ringing aloud
And the all the Reindeer are here in their resplendent glory:
Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen,
And Rudolph, with his red nose so beautiful and oh so bright—
And the sounds the Reindeer make stay in the minds of the little
Children just like sweetly wishing little voices wonderful in dreams
With those singing, tunes a dancing light appears so wondrous 
While planes from all over the world begin landing with cargo
And one each day with loads of letters from good little children

And Santa Claus begins calling the elfin troops into action while
The Leprechauns do all the heavy work as they are much tougher
But the old fighting Irish in them showing their softer side all the 
While with a drop of the old fiery dew to keep them warm smiling 
Like the very wee little Devil in them - mischievous and all . . . . 

They do all the heavy work for the elves as they have more of a spring
In their step while almost bouncing on the tip of the their toes like 
Little jumping springs so full of boundless wonder and energy and  
Then day after day the letters keep arriving and landing at the North Pole 
And they begin working like mad and very busily in the North Pole factory

While Santa checks the letters of all boys and girls through a secret window 
And when he shakes it he sees through the mist in a glass bubble of the
Christmas treats while hurriedly calling together all of his Reindeer . . . .
The sound of hooves on the snow saddles up the sleigh he is very slim 
To start off while all his helpers are loading up and he flicks the reins 

And the bells start ringing and - in a flash of magic dust in spirit sings of 
The ground waving he bade Mrs. Claus a very fond and loving farewell
And off he goes in a flash of light Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! echoing in the distance 

Each chimney sliding down he eats the food throwing some to the Reindeer 
Treats left after the night's over he feels so fat eating so much he heads back 
Home to the North Pole while smiling so content at the children’s happiness 
And ringing in his ears filled with golden smiles and wishing everyone a very 
Merry Christmas he falls asleep after Mrs. Claus makes him a hot chocolate
Really tired but easing his weary bones year after year he loves his job very
Much so and all of the sheer delight that his efforts and those of Mrs. Clau
And his elfin helpers and the joy and fun of the Reindeer bring to all children
On this Earth!! 
                     Merry Christmas to All!!



Anne-Lise Andresen, Liam McDaid and Gary Bateman – A Collaborated Poem, 

Copyright © All Rights Reserved (December 9, 2014) (Free Verse)


Long poem by Cynthia Alvez | Details |

The Day Before The Night Before Christmas

I wrote this poems some years ago when I was invited to be on a television program to read a Christmas poem to children as they gathered around me...I had not written a Christmas poem when the invitation was extended and wondered what to write as there were so many Christmas poems already...It was then I decided to write about the day before the night before Christmas...thus this poem which the children and listening audience enjoyed...

The Day Before The Night Before Christmas
It was December the 23rd
And Santa was packing his sleigh
Saying to his reindeer, "We've got
Lots of traveling to do today,
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and I
Have lots of surprizes up my sleeve!"
The reindeer grumbled and were ill-at-ease,
Santa was worried and asked "
aren't you pleased?"
One reindeer who asked not to be identfied,
Stepped forward and replied,
"Christmas now is just a word!"
The other reindeer joined in,
"There is no peace on earth,
No good will between men!"
"No good will between people!" a liberated reindeer
Chirped in.
Santa was aghast and could not believe what he
Had just heard,
It startled him, it made him sad,
Why, Christmas was the time of year to make folks glad.
A time for celebration, for spreading good cheer,
A joyful, happy time of year!

"I'll do some spot checking!" Santa said to Mrs. "C"...
"Christmas has lost its true meaning, this cannot be!"
"This is tragic!"
And with a little Santa magic, he transformed himself
Into a little child with a polka dot face,
This way he could represent every race...

He went caroling the world over and begged
Passers-by, "Please sing along!"
But no one would join him in song.
Santa was cold,
His coat was tattered and torn...
No one offered him shelter,
They looked upon him with scorn.

He stopped at several houses but no one
Would let him in...
Some shouted, "Come back again!"
They were busy decorating and wrapping 
Presents galore,
But no one would open their door.
Santa saw a family strolling hand in hand,
"What does Christmas mean to you?"
He asked stepping up to the man.
"Presents for one and all said he!
"Trees a glitter, houses in holiday dress!"
Said she.
"Toys!" said the little one, jumping with glee...
"If you are really good, Santa will bring you a color TV!"
"But he won't find your house on the other side
of the track,
You are poor and ugly with that polka dot face,
I know Santa won't find your place!"
They laughed and scoffed, 
"Why you are a disgrace!"

"Christmas means a brand new car!" said the next
Hurried gent,
The next lady said, "Christmas made me spend every cent!"
Poor Santa was really sad,
No one had said Merry Christmas,
"This is really bad."
He shook his head as he pondered, "Is Christmas really dead?"

No one mentioned the babe in the manger,
Or the wise men who traveled afar.
No one mentioned Mary or Joseph or the
Bright guiding star.
Santa slumped his shoulders
He head beack home,
His heart was heavy, he felt all alone.

The suddenly, bells chimed; it was Christmas eve.
A lone man appeared and took the little child Santa
By his tattered sleve.
"Come child," he said softly, "I'll share my meal with you,
It is not much but it should warm you through and through."
He wrapped his worn scarf around Santa's cold head
Santa thanked him...
"Merry Christmas!" the stranger said, "I am traveling to
Bethlehem" and he was gone again.

Marry Christmas!" said Santa ss the stranger disappeared
From sight..."Christmas lives!" he shouted,
"The reindeer were wrong and I was right!

Carrolers sang in the distance,
Deck The Halls!  Silent Night



Long poem by Katee Surface | Details |

My Little Boy Lost

My Little Boy Lost
by Katherine Huffman
Hello? My son, are you here?
I can't see you, I can't find you, why aren't you near?

As I walk the streets in search of you, 
I feel a pull, a tug, not sure what to do.
I passed the park as I looked for my boy, 
Even passed our play spot, but in my sight, not even a toy.
After everywhere I thought that I could go, 
There was one place, but it can't be right, this is all I know.

Hello? My son, are you here?
I can't see you, can't find you,
Why can't I feel you near?

This evening begins as I lay to rest my head, 
There are some things I'm unsure of, 
Like making your tiny bed.
Oh God, whats happening, haven't I counted your toes?
What about cradling your head or kissing your little nose?
What are these things I am unsure of, have I even done? 
Where are you, where are you my precious son?

Mommy lays here, in tears, her face on something cold.
Where are you my son, it's you I need to hold.
I've searched all day, it's turning into night,
I'm tired, I'm lost, but I still won't give up this fight.
My eyes start to close, slumber is far too near 
If I fall asleep, I may miss seeing you my dear.

Next thing I know, as I wake to the sun.
Wondering what it is, what has been done?
As I sit, my eyes focus, I start to look around.
Then, for some reason, they are drawn to the ground.
As I look, I see what has become,
This can't be, what's happening, where am I my son?

That cold my face last night laid upon, 
Was a marker, with your name, 
Of your body my little one.
Those things I wasn't sure if I'd ever done, 
Were but the memories, I'd hoped to make with you my son.

You were here, I know you were here 
My beautiful, precious son.
You were in mommies arms, such a little one.
As though it were as simple as reading a book,
I start to realize
These tangled webs have become unhooked.

That tug, that pull that led your mommy here, 
It was your spirit, it was your soul, 
It was your heart my little dear.

Here you were, here you were, 
Right with me, so very near.
My little boy, my son, 
Mommies little one was here.
You see? You led me where I needed to go.
For it was well past the time,
To accept this I know.

I feel a tug, I feel a pull.
I feel like I need to hurry, 
Like I have to go.
There is someone I remember,
I need to get to I know.
He's a small one, a little boy. 
He's your brother, my son, 
He's pulling, he's tugging, 
Needing mommy my little one.
I have to leave, I have to go, 
To find my baby, my son.

Oh Thank You my boy,
For bringing me here.
For letting my mind begin to see clear.
You showed me the way, 
I now see the light.
I am so close, so near in this dark night.

So here you are, here you are, 
With mommy, my baby is so very near.
You are in my heart, my mind, 
And this little brother of yours, my dear.

My little boy lost, my little boy lost, 
it's you I have found.
You were there with me,
as I slept on that ground.

Hello? My son, are you here?
I can see you, mommy found you, 
In my arms I hold you so near.
I've bathed you, I've clothed you, 
And cradled your head.
I counted your toes,
I bent in and kissed that little nose.
As you fell asleep in your bed.

Without him, 
Would these be memories
we are making my dear?
Without him would mommy, 
Be able to hold you so near?

We have a little angel to watch over us for all nights.
In spirit, with us, his soul,
Our endless guiding light.
He's your big brother, my son, my precious little one. 
He's right here, a part of you, 
Never again to be gone.

My little boy lost, my little boy lost,
It's you, I can see.
I have to Thank You 
For guiding me!


Long Poems