Best Helen Poems


Premium Member Helen Keller - My Inspiration

Her hearing and sight were taken away
When she was just about two years old,
She struggled to become what she did - 
An example, brilliant and bold.

Helen Keller was bright minded,
On hope she always did dwell
She was not only an icon for the struggling,
But for the fit and healthy as well.

“It was in the dreary month of February”
That into emptiness she fell -
She lived with her sense of touch,
Taking walks was her respite from hell.

She was seven when Annie Sullivan came
And completely changed her life,
An amazing teacher, sincere and kind -
Soon, Helen was over her strife.

She learnt to ‘hear' by touching
The lips of those who talked,
She could only manage random sounds -
Yet she was never mocked.

Under the guidance of Ms. Annie,
Helen improved in her speech,
She perfected herself in the art of Braille
And soon, she began to teach!*

She dreamt of going to college -
Her wish, of course, came true.
Her caring classmates bought her a pup
And wrote a verse on her too.

She had a group of admirers
Like Graham Bell and Mark Twain.
She gave her life to study and learn -
Her efforts did not go in vain.

Helen Keller was a great woman -
She’ll forever stay in my mind,
And I hope in the midst of her troubles,
That happiness and joy she did find.

She never bent her head, she always held it high -
She looked at the world straight in the eye.^ 

 

-------------------------------------------------------------------
 

* :- She taught people about values, once able to speak understandably

Her classmates' poem wrote for her :-

Beside her task our efforts pale,
She never knew the world for fail;
Beside her triumphs ours are naught,
For hers were far more dearly brought.

^ :- From her own quote
© Sneha Rv  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Helen Keller

Posted on 10th April 2014 

Deaf and blind was Helen Keller,
Though she changed the world ,
Everybody respected her
for her each and every word

Helen Keller was deaf and blind 
when she came to the Earth,
So let us all remember her
on the day of her birth!
© Sneha Rv  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Helen Keller Kyrielle - Hk

When Helen Keller was a child,
both deaf and blind, she acted wild
until her heart was helped to melt.
Seen or not, beauty must be felt.

Sweet sights and sounds she knew not of.
She barely comprehended love.
In youth, a bad hand she’d been dealt.
Seen or not, beauty must be felt.

A favored doll, dear Helen clutched,
yet things were nameless that she touched.
Words on her hand a teacher spelt.
Seen or not, beauty must be felt.

One day the young girl’s whole world turned.
Her heart perceived the words she’d learned.
With joy thereafter Helen dwelt.
Seen or not, beauty must be felt.

June 19, 2023


Nobody Dies Forever Tribute To Carolyn Helen Devonshire

Let everyone be aware
of this prominent truth :
There is no eternal death,
no one dies forever!
If the body deteriorates,
the flesh of the spirit
it doesn't even putrefy in ground dust,
neither with time!

Premium Member Ode To Helen Steiner Rice - the Monchielle Style

~Ode To Helen Steiner Rice~
(Monchielle)



Lovely lady, she shines
Ambass'dor of Sunshine
Daughter, sister and wife
Upliftin' poems she wrote
She persevered through strife 

Lovely lady,she shines
She's famous poetess
Wrote verses of faith hope
Her life was very hard
She fought thru life to cope

Lovely lady, she shines
Verses sent from God 'bove
Love for God kept her strong
Thousands of poems she wrote
Poems soothes my soul so long

Lovely lady, she shines
In heaven she wears crown
She truly loved the Lord
Endured many set-backs
Her poems are  adored.



Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2009


October.18.2016


~Author's Notes:

The Monchielle poetry form or style was created by Jim T. Henriksen.


-Helen Steiner Rice-

Helen Steiner Rice was an American writer of religious and inspirational poetry. Helen Steiner was born in Lorain, Ohio on May 19, 1900

Born: May 19, 1900 · Lorain, OH
Died: Apr 23, 1981 · Lorain, OH

Helen Santmyer's Prairie Town

Laugh at this grey town,
Dust lies thick; ragged trees
Streets lost—prairie seas

Unsoftened majesty
Wide streets end—wide earth begins
Sun sets; full moon-rise


Premium Member Ruth Helen Uhrig 1888-1908

Ruth Helen Uhrig

1888 – 1908

I remember the Indian summers most of all.
The drowsy balmy days of late September and early October.
I remember the calming chorus of the trees,
Especially here in Clark Cemetery,
With the benign wind caressing the still branches,
Teasing and tickling the leaves,
Performing masterfully,
The silent music of a thousand lazy afternoons.
Listen. Can you hear it?
And I recall that afternoon in 1903
While standing under the shady pepper tree,
Here in Clark Cemetery
That moment of sweet virginal bliss.
That long-forgotten one second in time,
When that blue-eyed fox named Roscoe
Kissed me, a mere girl of 15, on the lips.
There, on the threshold to my very soul!
Oh, the true joys of life are so simple and so fleeting!
And finally,
To my friends in old Whittier town,
I discovered after my demise that, 
There is a happy way to die and a sad way to die.
And it will all depend on how well you treated people while alive.
Thankfully, I died the happy way.
In my sleep.
Dreaming of the silent music,
On a long-ago afternoon in September,
Under the old shady pepper tree,
Here in Clark cemetery

Helen, I'M Coming

He calls- seldom I answer
They feel stiff.
He cries- seldom I console
They feel weak.

He knocks for entrance 
Though inside he lives
He enters- He observes me smiling
I shut him off completely- He’s out

I call- he’s always there
They smile.
I cry- he never turns his back
They tear. 

I enter his world-I never knock
He welcomes. 
I can hear some gossip in delight
Others just groan, vexed. 
The more I see is delight
Yet the others, are always in sight
I call- I cry- I enter-
When I smile, I leave.

He calls- waiting for my answer
They shiver.
He cries-cries for help
They perish. 

He knocks and enters
I give no care   
He stands still staring
“I called for you, you never replied
Burden lifted, they’re gone.
My gloomy 'flats' and 'sharps', 
Never felt your love, they left.
My innocent, smiling 'majors' and 'minors'
Never shared your laughter, they left.

Good bye my friend, Helen is waiting
Please pray for the Keller’s to welcome me home.”

Helen of Christmas

HELEN OF CHRISTMAS

What will my present be?
Can I kiss her at the lit tree,
or, under the mistletoe,
where she makes me grow?

She is brown paper packages,
tied up in string.
That might sound bad, but she is my favorite thing.
She's my Santa; she knows what to bring.

I stood, looking at her, by the vanity.
She makes Christmas better.  See?
Under the strung colored lights, that are on;
above she strafes gifts, unto us; upon.

She sits on Goliath's seat;
bearing many presents at our feet.
And I wanted to wander towards her, for us to greet.
Why do you love me so fuking much?

I panicked when I thought she was gone.
Poof!  Like in a vacuum; her presents undone.
I just want to see her free. 
Like the sand in the sea...

Helen Keller

Helen Keller 
Helen Keller 
 
 
88 
 
CharlaXFabels 
 

 This is what eye remember about the MOVIE of course eye never knoe her. She 
was moving constantly moving at least the actress who was portraying her but to 
a boy it WAS her it seemed so heart wrenching a thing to just be blind there is a 
SCHOOL for THEM they do not function in the real world and there she was big 
as life the boy in my had that CRUSH upon her from the instant eye saw her it 
was strang puppy love. Winner of the 1960 Tony Award for Best Play, “The Miracle 
Worker” tells the incredible story of Helen Keller, a young woman trapped in a 
world of silence and darkness. Deaf, blind, and mute, with no way to 
communicate, she fought anyone who tried to help her with an intense, furious 
desperation. Then Annie Sullivan came. A strong, determined, half-blind woman 
fueled by her troubled past, she began the daunting struggle to reach Helen and 
bring her into the world at last. She was so pretty in an odd sort of way swaying to 
the tune of musick only she could see and hear the idea that she tried to 
overcome her handicap and live was so nice to this little undergod. YThis semi-
sequel to William Gibson's The Miracle Worker recounts the early adult years of 
the profoundly handicapped but brilliant Helen Keller. Helen, played by Mare 
Winningham, enters college, with her friend and mentor Annie Sullivan Macy 
(Blythe Danner) by her side. As Helen's international fame grows, she must 
withstand the pressures of those who'd treat her as a freak rather than a human 
being as well as Annie's near-strident demands that she excel at everything. The 
multi-faceted Ms. Keller lived too much of a life to be squeezed into a mere two-
hour running time; the script betrays the strain of trying to show us more than it's 
able by wrapping up everything in a hurried, unsatisfying conclusion. see part two 
ED.NOTE

Helen Keller: the Miracle Continues

Helen Keller: The Miracle Continues was initially telecast as part of the 
syndicated Operation Prime Time package in 1984. ~ Hal Erickson As Annie 
Sullivan and Helen Keller, Anne Bancroft and Patty Duke could not have been 
better. The battle of wills and wits between the two is engrossing, becoming 
quite involved and very interesting. The lengthy dining room struggle alone would 
make any movie worth watching - it is worthwhile even beyond the interesting 
action itself, as it brings out aspects of human nature and human learning that 
go beyond even Helen's own trials.

National Treasures No 1 Dame Judy Dench Inna Ragga Mc Stylee Innit

Dame Judy Dench
Loves to fish for Tench
When she fixes her motor
She uses a wrench
If she’s feeling tired she sits down on a bench,
DJD is polylingual;
Her favourite language is French,
When she has a pooh in the morning
It causes a stench
DJD is a strong woman,
When Germans talk about her they call her ‘mensch’,
If she gets excited
Her buttocks they clench
When DJD gets dehydrated
Her thirst she will quench,
She is a fine looking woman,
But never call her a wench,
DJD did military service
She learnt to dig a slit trench,
She's into prehistory
And loves to visit Stonehenge,
DJD don't take no -
If she is dissed she'll get her revenge
She is super organised
When she does her filing she uses a big hole punch
If she gets hungry mid morning
She pauses for brunch,
If Helen Mirren calls round they go out for lunch,
DJD is very intuitive
and likes to follow a hunch,
Her off shore investments
Protected her from the credit crunch,
She's a feisty lady -
A reporter asked if 'she had a carer'
Well he got a bunch
Of fives from this diva
But to her friends she is staunch,
Even Harvey Weinstein - DJD protected his paunch,
Said she had a tat of his name on her bum
Cos her career he relaunched
With Victoria and Albert -
She never gives an inch
If Bond is stuck in a ditch
She pulls him out with a winch,
She takes on all the bad guys,
You never see her flinch,
When delivering a soliloquy
She makes it look like a cinch
She should be world president, 
Donald J Trump would be the first one she would lynch!

A Tributeto Helen

Helen, I love the poems you write;
They fire me up when I visit your site.
Some have been, an inspiration to me,
at a difficult time, when I've been 'all at sea'.

'Songbird' truly touched my heart;
'The Garden' kind of set me apart.
'My Prayer' brought hope in a time of need;
'Music of Life' is fine indeed.

'Resurrection' well, that lifted me up.
'Walk of Life' filled my half empty cup!
'Nature Concerto' brought a breath of fresh air.
I'm so glad your poems are for all to share!

Helen of Troy

Her “face could launch a thousand ships”
It was love at first sight as I watched her strip
Till her camel toe
Began to show
And I realized she didn’t have lips!


8/11/11

Time Flies Based On Portrait No 9, Morning At the Quay In Venice By Helen Allingham

TIME FLIES by Jeanette Jones 
based on PORTRAIT NO 9 
Morning at the Quay in Venice by Helen Allingham




TIME FLIES


Early still, I rise again. 
For the quails came calling. 
Dragging my feet, I stumbled 
across the room, to get a glimpse 
before they get to far away. 

The kettle’s on, brewing the tea, 
to place in my flask. 
Milk too for little Emily as we stroll along. 

At the edge of the bay, our four feet dangle, 
little Emily hums away; a nice beat to my 
dream. 

Small canoes, large boats with sails, 
carry me away across the water. 
Traveling up into the lighthouse, 
I look over bay, watching the workmen, 
out for the day. 

Hours pass as I gather up to leave. 
Little Emily and I, hand in hand, 
we’ve just gotten here, must we go? 

Good night Mr. Workman. 
Good afternoon Ma’dam.

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