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Best Poems Written by Michael Hornschuch

Below are the all-time best Michael Hornschuch poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Yes Carol, They'Re Dogs

My three girls
                                                by Michael Hornschuch

With great fondness I write of my three girls, 
They're  always smiling throughout the day 
Chasing cats, and the occasional squirrels
Searching the park, oh, how they play

But mornings are rough, as I walk out the door,
Their eyes all saddened as they wonder once more
Will he return at days end, or is this our last time
Since he’s gone, to the couch where we’ll climb

Guarding the house in my absence -- they watch
For burglars and thieves and postmen at four
This job they take seriously and never will botch
Militantly watching for a stranger at the door

But each night I return, same as the day before, 
Ecstatic with joy, overwhelmed by my presence
As if they were saying “don’t leave us no more!!” 
Each dog vying for attention at my sudden entrance  

What an example of God’s loving grace
Suddenly playful, crazy and wild
Each taking their turn at licking my face
I spoil them rotten as each is my child

Copyright © Michael Hornschuch | Year Posted 2011



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An Acrostic Poem of Michael

My life is a journey not yet complete as
I live with wide eyes’ open towards adventures that
Come to me daily through this wondrous epic called life while  
Having the opportunity to live two polar opposite life styles in one life time I
Am able to recognize the miracle of God’s hand as he guides me with Gentle nudges 
Even as I’m convinced he has left me hanging I soon realize his ever subtle presence
Love is the  answer to my questions of what God is through suffering the past...

 I now know PEACE.

Copyright © Michael Hornschuch | Year Posted 2011

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Somewhere Over the Rainbow

I had heard this song by an obscure artist, with a twist as it played verses 
of 'Somewhere over the rainbow, with 'What a wonderful' world entwined. 
It's simply melody strummed on a ukalele mesmerized me as I listened on the radio 
in the car.
I remember saying to my wife, "I want this at my funeral." I was morbidly honest 
that way.
Several years later, I was watching an episode of E.R. in which our favorite 
character, Dr. Green discovers he has brain cancer, and a short time to live. He's 
basically given the advice we all wish to avoid. "You don't have long, retire, enjoy 
the time you have left."
 Dr Green, plans a vacation with his daughter, who's relationship has been strained 
since his divorce. For the next three or four episodes Dr. Green and his daughter 
spend his last days surfing in Hawaii. Mending the relationship slowly, to a degree 
of understanding only a father and daughter could know. He's still Dad, and she's a 
teen working on letting go of her resentments.
In the last episode of the story, he's not doing well. He keeps passing out and his 
strength is waning. He knows it's only a matter of days, possibly hours; but doesn't 
share this with his daughter, the scenary is of a bungalo on the beach, white sands 
surround the openness of the primitive bungalo, palm trees speckle the beach, and 
in the distance lies the royal blue waters of the Pacific Ocean.
A day of surfing is suddenly changed as he suggests that his daughter go ahead of 
him, he'll stay back and watch until his strength returns. So he sits in a hammock, 
and watches out in the water as she strolls off to surf, Background music grows to 
this song I'd so loved, by and artist named Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwo?ole and as the 
music is playing softly, the camera pans in on the face of Dr. Green for his death 
scene, and his last breath. The camera pulls back, from the back of his head, above 
the bungalo, above the beach as if we are Dr Green's soul departing this earth.
Yes, I cried like a little school girl as realized that my favorite character had just 
been erased from our show, with no chance to come back for a Cameo... What!? of 
course that's why I cried! OKAY! it was a tear jerker! and the saddest part, was the 
relationship with his daughter was still in repair . Moral of the story i guess-- You 
never know when its your time, so don't hold on to petty resentments, and love 
every minute of life.  

I later learned, Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwo?ole; had also died

Copyright © Michael Hornschuch | Year Posted 2011

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Colorado Fall

Golden, Aspen leaf spirit of painted horses Hewn logs Cabin, fall

Copyright © Michael Hornschuch | Year Posted 2010

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Haiku 7-11-13

sitting with summer

Purple mountains majesty

woke up this morning

Copyright © Michael Hornschuch | Year Posted 2011



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Socks:Revised

Left sock, Right sock where have you gone,
little skooter kitty, up before the dawn,

Now my day has started, 
my socks have all but parted, 

little skooter took em'
to make his bed upon.

Inspired by:
"Keys Please?" by Francine Roberts

Copyright © Michael Hornschuch | Year Posted 2010

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Spirituality

My God is bigger than me
or am I my God ?
Is God me ?

Copyright © Michael Hornschuch | Year Posted 2011

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Tanka To My Three Girls, Molly, Gracie and Zoe

Tis with woeful eyes,


                               As I watch you leave again,

                                   When will you return?


                               Or is this our last goodbye



                              I’ll wait on the porch till night

Copyright © Michael Hornschuch | Year Posted 2011

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Conversation With An Angel Part 1

Conversation with an Angel

I live in an average neighborhood, in Colorado Springs. I like to refer to my street as
the ‘all American street’. Most of the homes in my neighborhood were built between the
1890’s and early 1930’s. Our yards are reflective of our personalities, so I believe. An
eclectic mosaic of manicured and not so manicured lawns, xeriscaped, not so xeriscaped
yards fill the view as one drives down the road.  
We still say hello as we pass by, and many walk our dogs or just enjoy the company of a
loved one for an evening stroll. With Pike’s Peak as our back drop I think most of us feel
blessed to call our neighborhood home. 
One night while out walking about an hour before dusk, I noticed something not quite
right. A little out of place if you will; between the road and the sidewalk is a section
of yard for each home, about 10 feet from sidewalk to curb, with Elms and Oak trees
agelessly garnishing the street, I happened to notice a man about two blocks ahead, bent
down ‘doing something’ quite contently. Nothing out of the ordinary, I guess I was just
fixed on the length of time he was bent down. As I approached, I imagined what he was
doing, “an injured pet maybe or damaged sprinkler head”. As I came closer I noticed he’d
look up in my direction, and back down again. I had a sense that whatever it was he was
doing; he wanted to be done before I arrived. I picked up my pace, more curious than
worried. Finally, as I crossed the next street; he was within ears shot of a quick
“hello”. He looked up and nodded back, then down again at whatever he was doing. I could
make out his features and knew he was ‘not from around these parts’. It was summertime,
and his appearance was quite disheveled. His face was unshaven, not a beard, but a few
days growth, wrinkled and tanned as if he’d been homeless for a while. His hair was
tousled, bleached from the sun with wisps of gray. I found it odd, that he had on a long
tan rain coat, blue jeans and sandals with no shirt underneath.

Copyright © Michael Hornschuch | Year Posted 2011

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God's Will, Not Mine

“I’ve always honored and admired the strength of our men and women in combat” 
But saying ‘thank you’ always seemed kind of trite, how could I show my true 
gratitude

I’m just an ordinary man, nothing to brag about just a guy in the crowd
But one day special, no, it was more than just that. God called upon me to where a 
different hat.

Driving down a road in search of camping site, I stumbled upon a ranger’s station 
that offered some light. He showed us a map, and told us of wonderful camping, 
amenities galore a true camper’s delight.
For a mere certain price, we could get a sight for the night. Insulted at thinking of 
having to pay to enter God’s country, I humbly said ‘Thank you, maybe another day’. 
My wife could see that something was amiss, we returned to the car and she asked 
what was wrong. I told her I didn’t know, it wasn’t the money, just something wasn’t 
right, let’s move on
We headed back toward the town we’d just left, when a big white truck went flying 
on by, we could see two young men, shouting and hooting… I remember thinking “ I 
remember those days”
We watched as the truck went over the hill then a crash and a bang, and a flurry of 
dust. Let’s turn around and see what has happened. We got to the scene and a 
crowd was standing around. The truck had flipped over, and smoke was everywhere. 
I noticed quite oddly, no one was helping out, like a crowd in a circus just watching a 
freak show. I looked at a man and said, “Are you just going to stare?” What can I 
do? I don’t know how to help. I walked to the victims and immediately saw; these 
men were in trouble and needed my help.  My wife was still in the car and I told her 
to get out, ‘get the first aid kit and follow me quick.’ The first guy was sitting in the 
middle of the road, not a shirt on his back, and a wound that was deep, exposing the 
bone. Alert to my questions I asked if he was okay, “I can’t find my girl” she was with 
me today. My wife came from behind and noticed the boy. “Oh my god, he looks like 
our son” I told her to stay with him, don’t let him drift off, or he’ll be done.

Copyright © Michael Hornschuch | Year Posted 2011

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Book: Shattered Sighs