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Best Poems Written by Brenda Meier-Hans

Below are the all-time best Brenda Meier-Hans poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Ancient Warrior

I see the wrinkles in your suntanned brow,
You carried burdens then; you see them now.
You’ve heard the cries your people who in pain,
Have shed their tears two hundred years like rain. 

Your sad brown eyes, reflecting now the sky
I see the wings of eagles flying by
Beside you stands an Appaloosa mare
Her spirit one with you now over there.

You hear the drums, they bid you to come near,
Your spirit drawn the beats they ring so clear.
Song like prayers are chanted through the night,
Calling you come, and help them end their plight.  

You’ve heard sad cries and now stand at their side,
You join the prayers with both arms open wide,
United spirits sing until the dawn,
When in the fire’s flames a golden fawn.

Remembering a smile crosses your face,
When tribes were one with Mother Nature’s grace.
The lakes and streams flowing with waters clear,
Flow sadly now, the planet lives in fear.

The weightless feathers that adorn your head
Your tribes grey future weighed you down instead.
Now breathing deep you smell the winds of change
While here on earth your people rearrange.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.21.2014
Giorgio A.V. Contest 
Iambic Pentameter 
1st place

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014



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A Concrete Snowman

THE BLACK
                                                    SATIN HAT
                                                    SAT TIGHT
                                        ON THE YOUNG MANS BALD
                                                    HEAD. HIS 
                                                EYES BLACK AS 
                                            NIGHT STARED INTO
                                              NOTHINGNESS. IN 
                                                 FRONT OF HIM
                                                      WERE 3
                                              PATHS WHERE THE
                                           CHILDREN HAD ROLLED 
                     THREE BALLS OF SNOW MUCH EALIER THAT VERY DAY. 
                                         PATCHES OF GREEN GRASS 
                                          STUCK THROUGH PACKED
                                                FREEZING SNOW.
                                        IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS FACE
                                A CROOKED CARROT POINTED TOWARD 
                            THE HOUSE WHERE CHILDREN SAT LOOKING
                             OUT THEIR WINDOW AT THEIR NEW FOUND
                              FRIEND. HIS BUTTON MOUTH SHAPED FOR
                                HIM TO LOOK HAPPY SEEMED TO SMILE 
                                  AT THEM AS THEY STARTED TO BLOW
                                       KISSES AT THEIR WONDERFUL 
                                                  NEW SNOWMAN.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.27.2014

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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Broken Wings

As the sun arose in the eastern skies 
a fairy princess sits rubbing her eyes.
Yawning she glimpses her magical isle 
and her tiny lips, curl into a smile.

Standing she stretches in her treetop bed,
anxious anticipates what lies ahead.
She flutters her wings to get them ready,
raising one knee, she jumps slow and steady.

Hovering like, a hummingbird she glides
then races off with both arms at her sides.
With lots to see her day has just begun,
she never stops until the setting sun.

Racing through the forest over fields of wheat
smelling the flowers, is her daily treat.
Talks to the butterflies this sunny morn,
tests the fresh honey and tastes some sweet corn.

Spotting a pond sparkling like a mirror 
zooms back and forth each time getting nearer,
watching her reflection, no time to think
crashed in a deer who had just stopped to drink.

Later discovers she’s broken her wings,
Lies in bed knowing what carelessness brings.
Six months of bed rest was taking their toll,
this fairy princess was losing her soul.

Finally the day came to test her wings
her will is determined her heart now sings,
shouts out with joy as she reaches the sky,
nothing feels greater, than when you can fly.

Iambic Pentameter 
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
01.14.2015
Contest: Sketch a Fictitious Character II

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2015

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The Old House

Seven generations walked through your door,
Which stood so strong and always welcomed in.
You said goodbye when boys headed to war,
Two soldiers lost to battles they can’t win.

Your kitchen always busy as a bee,
With canning, baking apple crumble cake.
Stone hearth, a place for warmth and drink some tea,
The table decked with riches to partake.

The living room a place to sit and chat,
With pictures hanging for one hundred years.
A chair still there where ancestors once sat,
This room for laughter and at times for tears.

Your nursery where many babies grew,
With bassinet where ev’ry child did lie.
The paint would change at times from pink to blue,
A place where time would always quickly fly.

The floors within have felt each child’s first walk,
Their worn out wood drowned many times with stain.
You watched the aging people gently rock,
You’ve heard and felt the tapping of a cane.

I stand and listen in your sacred halls
And feel that you’re a part of everyone.
Each breath we took embedded in your walls,
Of fathers, mothers, daughters and of sons.

Old house of stone your warmth embraces me,
Your children now all scattered far and wide.
You still stand proud for all the world to see,
The thoughts of you, sweet memories inside.

The house my children grew up in.

Iambic Pentameter  
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.02.2014
Giorgio’s Contest: Iambic Verse III
2nd
Best of 2014  1st place

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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Lottery Winner Helps Homeless

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

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

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014



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The Elves Snow Party

Away up north where it’s snowing they say
the elves are preparing for Christmas day.
Big elves little elves, busier than bees
All building toys, for under Christmas trees.

Some work with hammers others building bikes,
some riding through the room on brand new trikes.
Tiny elf voices ringing loud and clear,
everyone’s full of love and Christmas cheer.

Suddenly the chatter stops; all are still,
Santa walked in the room with book and quill.
Looking down at his book, Santa Clause stared,
then lifted his eyebrows as he declared,

Today I looked inside my books
and I found that we are ahead,
and thought because you worked so hard 
we shall all go outside instead.
Misses Claus made lots of sweet treats
so let’s all eat and be hearty,
for today here at the North Pole
all elves shall have a snow party.

Quick as a wink the elves they disappeared,
Santa just smiled as he tugged at his beard.
Laughing he watched his little friends scatter
and soon the mountains echoed with laughter.

Snowballs were flying, snowmen taking form,
and hot chocolate kept little elves warm.
They were sledding, skiing, skating all day,
see, elves aren’t simply, all work and no play.



Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.29.2014
Contest: Children’s Christmas or Holiday Tale
1st place

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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I Must Carpe Diem

I used to live life full of dreams 
Planning, for many years to come.
Where I will be, when I will go,
A future that was filled with fun.

Till the day my life was shattered.
Till the day when the hammer struck.
All my dreams now torn asunder 
Nowhere to hide, nowhere to duck.

I stood my battles, fought the fight 
We gathered and said our goodbyes,
Yet through all of your brave faces,
I could still hear the silent cries.

Last Will and Testament written,
Everything important was said,
“I love you,” still that magic word,
I’d sleep in peace tucked in my bed.

Then something magical happened,
I came back from places of dread.
Now more a part of the living,
Each day I get stronger instead.

Now I know what’s most important
Enjoy precious moments each day,
Learned not to live for tomorrows
That just might not come anyway.

I enjoy each sip of coffee,
Watching leaves turn colours and fly,
Kisses from my sweet little dog,
Every time I see a blue sky.

The music of my Children’s voices,
Love of family never ends,
Carpe Diem, just seize the day,
That is my new motto my friends.


Written 10.25.2014
For Regina Riddle’s Contest 
Seize the Moment (Carpe Diem)
5th

James 5:15
And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up.

Living for the moment makes everything more special.

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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The Dog of My Life

Shakespearean Sonnet

I remember the day I picked you,
With your sweet little puppy dog eyes.
For my heart was searching for love too,
When I looked down and heard your soft cries.

Your brothers and sisters were running,
They were after a fallen clothes peg,
But there was a puppy so stunning 
Trying hard to get up on my leg.

Four years it has been since that moment
And I thank God daily for his gift
Each day you give me such enjoyment 
Your love has given my heart a lift.

Today I know as clear as can be,
I didn’t pick you; rather you picked me.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.26.2014
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton 
Contest: Pets
2nd

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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Elder Abuse

He sits quietly in the corner of the room
and dabs his face removing the blood that
still gently trickles down his cheek. Flinching 
from the pain he tries to be more careful.
He wants to ask but doesn’t dare, so he 
wonders, What did I do wrong? Running 
his trembling fingers through his grey hair, he
remembers, I only wanted a glass of milk.

                                     She grabs a rag and starts cleaning off the
                                     counter. As she wipes down the cupboard 
                                     she is still cursing under her breath. “Why
                                     did we have to take him, we can’t go out 
                                     anymore because we’re stuck here with this
                                     eighty five year old man who can’t even pour
                                     himself a glass of milk without spilling it. 
                                     With that she throws the rag loudly in the sink.

He wants to get up and go to his room, but he’s
afraid. It didn’t used to be like this, she used to laugh 
with me and we’d talk about when mom was still
alive. How many times we took the children so 
they could go away. Now she doesn’t even look
at me anymore without frowning. Maybe if I
just sit here quietly she’ll forget about
me. Maybe if……. Oh no, here she comes. 

                                     She puts her hands on her hips and as if
                                     he was five years old she scolded him over
                                     and over again. She’s so tired of telling the 
                                     old man the same things, but he just doesn’t 
                                     get it. She asks herself why the father she 
                                     loved so much had to go and get Alzheimer.
                                     She notices how he’s shying away and 
                                     protecting his head with his arms. 

He runs into his room afraid she could
slap him again, thankful that his door 
still has a lock. He hears her yell, 
“Just ask me when you want something.”
He stands leaning on his door and slowly
he slides to the floor where he curls in a ball.
Glancing around the strange room, tears
fog his eyes as he asks, “Where am I?"


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
12.14.2014

Cyndi MacMillan
Contest Name	I CAN'T BREATHE: A peaceful Protest, An Anthology of Powerful Poems

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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Forever Loved

You could never be mad at me
Wise old man whom my heart could see
You were there when I needed you
Just a young child so full of life
Causing many an adult strife
If I lied you could see right through 
You could never be mad at me
Wise old man whom my heart could see 

Because of you I changed my ways
Have respect till my dying days
You were there when I needed you
If I lied you could see right through
You could never be mad at me
Wise old man whom my heart could see

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.05.2014
Dr. Mehta Contest: Sonnetina Rispetto
3rd

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

123

Book: Shattered Sighs