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Sonia Schroeder Poem
Smiling is infectious, you can catch it like the flu.
When somenone smiled at me today, I started smiling too.
I turned around the corner and saw my own grin, When he smiled
I realized I had passed it on to him.
I thought about that smile, then understood its work.
A single smile just like mine, could travel round the earth.
So if you see a smile begin, don't leave it undetected.
Let's start an epidemic quick, and get the world infected.
Copyright © Sonia Schroeder | Year Posted 2009
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Sonia Schroeder Poem
One night I had a wonderous dream
One set of footprints there was seen
The footprints of my precious Lord
But mine were not along the shore
But then some strange prints did appear
So I asked the Lord, "What have we here?"
Those prints are large and round and neat
And too large to be my feet.
"My child," he said in somber tone
For miles I carried you alone
I challenged you to walk in faith
But you refused and made me wait.
You disobeyed, you would not grow
The walk of faith, you would not know
So I got tired, I got fed up
And there I dropped you on your butt.
Because in life there comes a time
when one must fight and one must climb
When one must rise and take a stand
Or leave their buttprints in the sand.
I did not write this poem. My grandma Joy had this hanging on her fridge.
I thought I would share this with you all because she passed this year.
I love you grandma
Copyright © Sonia Schroeder | Year Posted 2009
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Sonia Schroeder Poem
I have a list of folks I know, all written in a book.
And every now and then, I go and take a look.
That is when I realize these names are a part, not of the book they're written in,
but written in my heart.
For each name stands for someone, who has crossed my path sometime.
And in that meeting have become the reason and the rhyme.
Although it sounds fantastic for me to take this claim,
I really am composed of each remembered name.
Although you are not aware of any special link, knowing you has shaped my life more
than you think.
So please don't think my greeting, as just a mere routine. Your name was not forgotten in
between. For when I send a greeting that is addressed to you, it is because you're on
the list of folks I am indebted to.
Copyright © Sonia Schroeder | Year Posted 2009
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Sonia Schroeder Poem
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living, I want to know what you ache for, and if you
dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are, I want to know if you will risk looking a fool for love,
for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have
touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have
become shriveled and closed from the fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with
pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and
let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful,
to be realistic, to remember the limitations to be human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can
disappoint another to be true to yourself: if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not
betray your own soul, if you can be faithless and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty, even if it isin't pretty, every day, and if you can
source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and stand on the edge of a lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to
know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone,
and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will
stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what
sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.
Copyright © Sonia Schroeder | Year Posted 2009
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Sonia Schroeder Poem
I can sense your presence,
but in the distance a shadow appears.
I reach out to touch you and realize it is
not you that is there.
I allow my thoughts to be carried away
deep in the shadows of my mind.
Sometimes life has a way of painfully taking us to
unexpected places. It forces us to reach deep inside
and discover or recover who we once were or who
we are true to be. We bring our experiences with us
as a guide to face us through the fortunes and misfortunes
that lie ahead.
The shadows of my mind have become my home. They clothe me in comfort,
they allow me my room to roam. My shadows keep me hidden from any pain
that may cause me harm, until I may sleep without my shadow and trust
anothers arms.
Copyright © Sonia Schroeder | Year Posted 2009
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Sonia Schroeder Poem
The beauty of a woman is not the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or
the style of her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, the doorway to her heart, the place
where love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not a facial mole, but true beauty that she loving gives, the
passion that she shows. And the beauty of a woman with passing years... only grows.
Copyright © Sonia Schroeder | Year Posted 2009
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Sonia Schroeder Poem
Far from the roaring crowds and choking cities,
As the sun sinks slowly down the mountain,
Darkness gathers in her womb, long luminous shadows
dance lively about the August brilliant full moon.
Giggles of the butterflies, laughter of the eagles, roar
of the bears, shouts of the roadrunners, echo everywhere.
The corn standing tall, bulging, bursting, blowing gently
in the warm night breeze. We hear the whispered cry
of the corn say, "It is time, please."
All butterflies, eagles, bears, and roadrunners gather
from near and afar, to take part to harvest, to share
with great care.
The clans have been reunited
And the corn has been reborn.
Copyright © Sonia Schroeder | Year Posted 2009
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Sonia Schroeder Poem
My love for you feels so right,
I want to be with you every night.
and on those nights when we make love,
I'll pray for forgiveness from God above.
They say sex before marriage is a sin,
but I just love the feeling as you guide it in.
So please Lord, please help me out. Please show me
what Real Love is all about.
Copyright © Sonia Schroeder | Year Posted 2009
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Sonia Schroeder Poem
To touch the heart of someone dear,
though it may sometimes cause a tear,
to fall or rest upon a cheek,
should be something all should seek.
For often, hearts not touched at all,
start hardening and shrinking small.
And then the time it takes to grow,
a loving heart is just too slow.
For hearts expand as those who care,
extend their love and let us share,
a moment, space, or special place,
that eases pain on dreary days.
Or simply starts our lips smile,
and brightens time for just awhile.
The ways, kinds, and means of sharing,
it seems to me, are based on caring.
And though we're often worlds apart,
you still can touch my heart.
You make me smile or shed a tear,
and I remember you so dear.
Copyright © Sonia Schroeder | Year Posted 2009
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Sonia Schroeder Poem
Moving forward, blind to any obstacles that may threaten my heart.
My eyes strain to see such obvious pain.
My ears listening intently for the sound of a deafening silence.
My hands extending in trying to feel or grasp what I cannot see nor hear.
I pause, stand quietly still, close my weary eyes, lift my chin, and still... listen.
A whisper so faint disrupts my ear so clear.
My hands drop and brush against my sensitive skin and a heavy sigh of relief escapes my
lips.
My heart, blind as it may seem, is safe and sound from undue harm, as long as my mind is
set free.
Copyright © Sonia Schroeder | Year Posted 2009
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