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Best Hope Poems | Poetry

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New Hope Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Hope poems are below this new poems list.

The Harp of Hope by Poteet, Reason A.
A HAPPENING OF HOPE by Strand, Brian
Coming Hope by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Eyes That Speak Of Hope by Ibeh, Edward
Hope by Justice Ndubuisi, Chime
Hope Heals by Pinet, Emile
HEAVENLY MUSIC OF HOPE by Agustin, Beata
Demise and The Tide of Hope by sensele, john
I Hope by Yeates, Owen
Hope you feel my me by QUIGLEY, CHRISTOPHER

View all new Hope Poems

The Best Hope Poems

Details | Hope Poem |

Wind From The Sea




Inspired by Andrew Wyeth Watercolor Painting -- Wind From the Sea, 1947




Standing in the old house
A strange mixture of feelings erupt within me
My roommates Depression, Loneliness, and Hopelessness
Greet me with strangling arms and leering grins
I don’t fight them anymore – somehow they are a part me
So together, in this house, in this room
We endure the somber solitude of the day

A sudden chill fills the room
Death enters – its foul breath chokes me
My three companions prostrate themselves
Pressure builds in my bowels
Bile rises in my throat
A heavy weariness fills my bones
He’s calling – hissing my name
I can’t breath

Death surrounds my soul – crushing me 
I hear groaning  . . .
Strange guttural sound -- it’s coming from me
Deep painful darkness fills me
I beg Death to take me . . .

Through the open window
A gush of wind enters
A sheer curtain hanging comes to life
It’s spirit lifts inwards and up beckoning me to dance 

What is this wonder?
A limp ragged curtain – faded, stained, frail -- has life
Reaching toward me . . .  frayed fingers of thread motioning
Old friends rush to me – Joy, Hope, Love
Death’s grip slips – I gasp a breath
Looking up I see the open window
Boarded by old bare wood, hard with age

I realize it’s daylight now – soft shadows 
A curving road leading to the water
I can taste the saltiness in the wind
Trees in the distance
A calling from the sea
Seagulls, waves, laughter

Joy breaths into my nostrils 
Leave this place – Depression cannot hold you
Simple pleasures I will give you
   Cool breeze on a summer afternoon
   Laughter of friends
   A walk in the garden
   A book
   The Sea . . . 

Depression laughs in my ears
Through that window lies heartache, treachery, poverty, misery
It will chew your insides up – blood will pour from your lips
Pain and suffering awaits if you leave this house
Death waits to take you home 
An end to this constant noise – the peace of total emptiness 

Another breeze and Hope fills my eyes with light
I see colors – vibrant alive filling me with warmth
Leave this place, take a journey to the sea
Let light fill you and be your guide . . . see -- opportunities abound
For laughter, love, forgiveness . . . for life – abundant life
See the rainbow upon the Sea

Hopelessness rushes toward me
Kisses my lips and whispers
Light burns and blinds
Enslaves you
They will see clearly your secrets
Spotlight focus – ridicule scorn . . . ugly disgust . . .  self-hatred

Love rushes in and embraces me
Light, fresh, empowering
My heart leaps with pleasure
Arm and arm she leads me to the window
Much pain and sorrow – yes . . .  also Love
A powerful love that transforms, refreshes . . . frees
Breathe deeply of the Sea air – fill your lungs
Go – you are loved deeply and completely

Looking out Looking in




David Meade
01/07/2015


Live Generously

Details | Hope Poem |

Edinburgh


Sweeping through your scotch broom,
weeping over your cobblestones,
lilting around the columns of Calton Hill,
is an Age of Reason so brilliantly brooding,
some nights I am kept awake
listening to Pendragon's breath caress Arthur's Seat,
and whispers drip from sills on St. Giles Street.

Though roots may drink from a sleepless night,
when morning light creeps through the curtains,
my love for you is renewed.




+/-

Details | Hope Poem |

Closer

    The sky resembles the robin's eggshells
                                                      scattered across the ground,

a blue so seemingly infinite                     yet fragile,
cracks running between understanding and madness
 
       complementing each other

as divine truths in their own right
to conquer my mind,
to unhinge the doors,
making it unnecessary to pick rusted locks

      letting thoughts fly free,
                                       releasing love out into the horizon.

If frozen within caged snapshots of mildewed expectations,
      it will surely die,
                 but even so,
  I was willing to strangle it by holding on too tightly.

    
    Until I saw the sky and eggshells today


      Peppered clouds reflected on the water,
                                            paralleling speckles on the eggshells,
                                    remind me of the freckles on your face.

  We need to be wide-open-free,
                                                we need to fly,
         without focusing too hard on shells of yesterdays.

We need to unclench our fists,
unclench our tongues,
explore the vast blue peppered sky 
                                                 
                                                      on wings of letting go....

 so that we can once again feel with purity,       
 so that we can hold each other ever closer.







05.24.12

Details | Hope Poem |

Best Friend Defined

What's a best friend,
But the smell before rain?
The hand that we give,
When a friend is in pain

It's the things that we do,
The words that we say
That pulls a friend through,
When their heart's torn away

It's the steps that we take,
The songs that we sing
It's the choices we make,
And the hope that we bring

I'm here through the tears,
I'm here through the laughter,
I'll always be here
Until death, and after

It's the things we give up;
The things we give in
When our heart's full of love,
And selfless begins

It's the hearts that we touch,
The things that we won't
We never give up,
We could, but we don't

It's the people we save,
With the hands that we give
When we're lost, we still say,
You're my reason to live

I'm here through the tears,
I'm here through the laughter
I'll always be here,
Until death, and after

Details | Hope Poem |

Love One Another





“Peace I leave with you
           my peace I give you
           I do not give to you as the world gives 
           Do not let your hearts be troubled
                 do not be afraid”  (John 14:27)

But I am scared
      Blood runs down streets
      Hatred, rage, violence dance 
            In a chaotic frenzy performance
                     of evil malice . . . 

What do your words mean?
      Are they void – empty promises?
Where is the peace in deafening explosions?
  In the cacophony of rapid gun fire?
     Screams of horror?
           Tears of death???

“I am the resurrection and the life 
     The one who believes in me will live 
                 even though they die 
     and whoever lives by believing in me will never die 
     Do you believe this?”  John 25:26

Yes, I want too . . .
     But fear creeps around my heart
     Its cancerous fibers sinking deep – choking me
     Doubts greet me in the morning
     Panic sleeps in my bed
     I am weak
     Hear my cries of desperation      


“Be strong and courageous
       Do not be afraid 
       do not be discouraged 
          for the Lord your God will be with you 
                wherever you go”   (Joshua 1:9)

Stay close – fill me
     I cannot see – 
     Darkness surrounds me
     Death, destruction, desecration, depression
     Blood, bitterness, bile, blight 

“I have come into the world as a light
              so that no one who believes in me 
             should stay in darkness
             If anyone hears my words but does not keep them
             I do not judge that person
             For I did not come to judge the world
                        but to save the world” (John 12:46-47)

I cannot begin to fathom this
         How great is this love
               Forgiveness over revenge
	           Peace over violence
	                Life over death
	                        Love over hate
                  Help me I pray

“A new command I give you 
              Love one another
             As I have loved you
             so you must love one another”  (John 13:34)

Love one another . . . 








David Meade
11/18/2015

Love Generously

Details | Hope Poem |

Hallelujah - From the Mouth of Babes - with Silent One

The Guardian
		Melodic lullabies echo	
		As heart strings strum secret chords
		As transcendental images appear
		Stargazers are lost for words
		Kaleidoscopic Illuminations
		Paint the sky in optimistic light
		Hope descends in serene silence
		Floating through shadows of the night
		Dancing spirits move to dulcet tunes
		Shadows can be seen against the moon
		Oh Redeemer do you hear their call?
		Take with you those who have gone too soon
		Hallelujah- Hallelujah 
		Hallelujah- Hallelujah
From the mouth of Babes	
		To hallowed ground we trip hand in hand
		A new chapter to embrace in its splendour
		Ring out voices on notes sweet and clear
		To the universe our souls will surrender
		Fragments of the past spun into flags of freedom
		Our Victory March erased from strife
		Away with the racing winds ever so bold
		Singing Hallelujah to hail a new Life
		The lighter the air the higher we climb
		No more the fetid chitter chatter
		To the fading strains of a repetitive tune
		Not broken -We rise - We matter
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah
The Guardian
		Cyber conducts no hateful words
		Whisper soft winds only of love
		Ring euphonious echoes of Rapturous joy
		While Heaven beckons from above
		Finally free from those who judge,
		Eyes glow as laughter begins to vibrate
		Running together through fields of freedom
		Babes hum rhapsodies that liberate.
From the mouth of Babes
		Jubilous our shouts as onward we go
		Skipping, laughing as each other we chase
		Heaven embraces as we run to her arms
		Soothed we feel in her cocooned embrace
		Dissipate grey clouds from this Promised Land
		Our Hallelujahs peal out sweet and light
		Celestial Symphonies reach a crescendo
		As the stars twinkle lustrous tonight
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah-Hallelujah-Hallelujah

Acknowledgement:
My deepest appreciation to Silent One for his contributions and collaborating with me to bring this message of Hope to parents and loved ones who have suffered the extreme sadness through loss of their innocent children and the dark despair that follows. 

Tragic as their loss is, this poem is to offer solace and perhaps help them understand their child has not totally gone. In ‘Hallelujah - From the Mouth of Babes’, this is what I envision it to be beyond the void of criticism and bullying, where Ethereal beings welcome them back to another innocent realm where they readily resume childlike exuberance. Perhaps, they will return in another time away from their dark experience.’

For my friend Kate Pennington an amazing lady dedicated to helping the youth in ‘Beyond a Joke’ Anti-Bullying Center, Australia, for whom I wrote ‘Starry Starry Night’ some time ago.

Copyright © Maria Williams/Silent one | Posted July 2017

POTW 9th July 2017

Details | Hope Poem |

There is still beauty

Listen to poem:

Friends, do not forget: there is still beauty
When the darkness comes and shadows fall,
Music, Art, and nature, gentle comforts
When despair is deep and hope is small.

Friends, do not forget: there is still laughter
When we’ve finished choking down our tears,
When the world seems full of desolation
And we grit our teeth and face our fears.

Friends, do not forget: they have not taken
Kindness, love and friendship from our hearts.
If we can resist the hate and anger,
Maybe we can be where healing starts.

We will rise again tomorrow morning,
Sunshine follows even darkest night.
Think of this when you feel close to breaking
As we walk the long road to the light.

November 2016

Details | Hope Poem |

BUTTERFLY KISS

*BUTTERFLY KISS*

I'm still alive and I don't know why?
My heart survived falling from the butterfly sky

Caught by the hands of destiny
With visions only I can see!

My love I heard your call
Wings of a butterfly broke my fall

Love motion is in the air, a love no one can compare
Indulging a look-a-stare- that we both share

Reminiscing our love made out of stolen hope
Awe~:*! To  them butterfly kisses that felt so real

Flowing like Amazing Grace, 
A shining light upon my face.

I traveled fast and far, longing to be in your arms
I desire, the warm sensation of your charms

Your safe love will help me carry on,
With the strength and bond~the love you set upon

Nothing is better than a sensual butterfly kiss
Beyond the sensation of heaven's pure bliss

Fluttering in the clouds aiming for the moon
A dream of reality, out of my cocoon I bloom!

Valued by the art of true beauty and its rarity
True love flapping in the midst of clarity

I entwine that I am yours and you are mine
Bonded together till the end of time

With the vision, my heart is no longer blind
Two broken hearts at last combined

I glide below to touch your lip.
Our lashes touch from tip to tip.

Caressing each other as our wings expand
Two hearts- kisses collide and land

Holding your hand reaching to the rainbow sky.
Kisses:*kisses:* like the butterfly!


Dedicated to *My Babe*

Details | Hope Poem |

Sand Castle De Mal

~Sand Castle De Mal~

Beauty sails along the shores of life
Out there broken dreams form above sand dunes
Silent, God listens to the triumph of his creation



3-14-2015
3 line verse

Details | Hope Poem |

- My Dreams -

                                


                               Close your eyes and forget the rain
                                   Dream about the sun and heat
                                          a sunny summer day
                                       Dream of waves who sigh
                                          so quiet on the beach
                              Swimming naked with the one you love


                                       The dream of happiness
                                       is more than the dream
                           A dream about strawberries with cream on
                                Do not forget the roses and violets
                                          that smells so good
                            Running barefoot in the freshly cut grass


                            Close your eyes and dream your dreams
                                 Daydreaming as sweet and good
                      they are secret, I will not share them with anyone
                                  Imagine if life was a dream .....
                                         A wonderful dream
                                 and the world was full of love
                      and intimacy between all the people on earth
                                     My dreams are made of 
                                       hope, faith and love






31.July 2012
Anne-Lise Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Details | Hope Poem |

M

Long before Horus' exposure on its trunk
and the nailing of Jesus upon its grain,
rings have been added within the Tree
while people proclaim to hold the key
of salvation: a continually borrowed mythology
swallowed; an extra-strength sleeping pill

pulling the masses into slumber,
and away from the awakened truth
that such supposed salvation 
is an illusory ticket far too easy to obtain
for it to be real—
a discriminatory, fairy tale-damnation
that multiplies the division 
of "Us and Them."

Too many people hand out the easy tickets,
then cut and light the tree:
a hypodermic injection of selfish memories
mixed into the mortar of temples designated as sacred,
while dogmatic shears amputate roots from the sky.

Too many people preach
about a cheap, polystyrene heaven,
while only a few walk the narrow path
that leads towards the kingdom within,
and live the sacrifice because it feels right.

Again and again, 
the ticket isn't so easy.
We must put aside our slumber-crutches,
stop watching the few carry the rest
upon their backs, until bones creak and groan
from the weight of people waiting for salvation
to be handed to them.

For 27 years, 46664 was etched into the bark
of a branch in the road.
When forked doors opened,
a living, breathing gospel
brought down fences,
and even then, the wood was made into crutches
for people to say, 
"M will fix it; M will do this, M will do that;
M will save us, just wait and see."

M is finally free. Yes, he is free!
Free, but not lost to us;
he survives as spirit-seeds.

We must cease to lean upon crutches;
we must purge the pill from our blood,
and awaken into gardeners who water the seeds
within the soil of our hearts,
before the vision withers completely,

and we remain only as husks
waiting to be hydrated by watering cans;
weakened hands and arms unable to lift their weight

held in our own hands all along, 
held in our hands all along.



December 7th/8th, 2013







+/-

Details | Hope Poem |

Tears to Weep

When I lay me down to sleep,
And cry the tears that sinners weep;
To speak the words of a contrite prayer,
And know that someone listens there.

He cares for sheep that have gone astray,
Who willfully wander their own way;
They vex the pride that hides within,
And drink the bitter cup of sin.

The web of lies and dark deception,
Lie in defeat of Light’s conception;
To capture all and destroy life,
With passion’s fire and human strife
                 
We need to plant the gospel vine,
Where evil rules and saints repine.   
While martyrs lead with ransomed prayer,
With hope for life that tarries there.

Blood that was shed on Calvary,
Set slaves of transgression wholly free.
So we rise from the grave to seek reward,
Giving praise to our risen Lord.

Details | Hope Poem |

The Tower rebuilt

I shall resolve to leave this
Place now...
And steadfastly search out,
Nestling between ridge and bluff
Amidst the folds of a foreign 
Land,
Several acres of unkempt ground
Fallow and rough;
Upon which stands...
Crumbled stone walls
With an exposed slate roof in
Some state of disrepair,
And a rounded brough
Complete with smooth, 
Well trodden steps
Twisting around a narrow stair.

An Inglenook, therein,
Will I construct,
With deep reveals to cheer me
In my idling days,
And wide spanning arch
To sit before and stay the onset
Of this old age...
And all its creeping ills;
While in all the subtle crafts
In which I was taught 
to be so ably Skilled:
Rebuild this castle
Inside the wistful echos
Of these deeply-spilling 
And far resounding hills.

Then, with mind well set,
complete with muscles willing
Sinew 
And perspirations honest sweat,
I shall toil upon this task;
For a little more precious time,
Coupled with fortitude and 
Diligence,
In truth, is all one my humbly
ask.
And by my will...
And by my command -
Raise up these fallen blocks
Once more
Upon this goodly land.

For could it happen that
Every night,
Before I gladly retire,
I glimpse a trace of those whose 
Face 
Haunt the hot flames of my steady 
Fire?
Disregarding manifested nightly 
Shadows,
That, in their lonely spectral 
Travels,
Creep across old squeaking boards...
Lain at right angles
Over the creaking joists
Hidden under ingrained, 
Dusty, oaken floors.

And placing down my thick and 
Heavy,
Red leather-bound book
I reach across for thread, 
Sharp needle and hook;
When picking up the threadbare  
Blue-velvet rags...
I stitch in the bright silvery stars
We once eagerly reached for,
But did not quite grasp,
In our younger days as lustier 
Lads;
Perhaps pausing in mid-motion,
With a rueful look,
To pensively consider of that
Weary road 
One lone stray drummer,
Still steadily drumming -
Steadfastly took.

Consider! Accession is but a 
Trifle -
The anointed destiny of all 
Royal Kings... 
And all earthly prizes pale asides 
Whatever riches accumulated
Wisdom gradually brings:
Born of labor,
Re-doubled effort,
Born of non-compromise...
And fated,
Gently resigned, nodding sighs.

Rising now on upright stiffening
Bones...
Listening to the dark hours 
Belated howls
Rise over the laments
Of the Lime-torched rafters 
Swelling moans;
And, plodding slowly upwards
Of my bell-less tower -
Seek out welcome sleep 
Within my shaking, wind swept
Bower!

Slung low under the eastern 
Point
Of a sharp crested Moon...
The radiant Dog-Star
Floods its rainbow colours through
Narrowed slits
Of the high turreted room.
Port-side lies my yawing bed
Rigged-out in white linen sheets;
Amidships my mattress spread -
Two firm pillows serve as cabin 
To plunge about my weary head!

Storm rages down...
And storm blows below -
Redoubtable little boat 
Swung back and fro!
Tossed and tipped from trough 
To pitch:
Resolute timbers - Lashed afloat 
This angry ditch!
Caught in the deep channel 
Of my chaotic bind...
To seek safe haven I do 
Endeavour to find:
A safe harbour on some newly
Formed virgin shore;
Along whose gentle currents  
My sturdy tiller swings...
And now steers for -
Upon the white spumes 
Of a steady bore.

Now...
Far, far, far above,
Past where Andromeda yields,
And Hercules, who upon the head
Of Draco kneels;
And far, far, far beyond 
Interstellar dust - 
Adorned the blazing Constellations 
Throng...
I walk between the milky-ways
Of sunlit nights and shinning
Eternal days...
Which relentlessly spiral
Aboard boundless rays.

For, it seems, that a man can 
voyage over the unfathomable 
Bars 
To chase his elusive dreams
Among the crowded stars;
Where, cutting the black voids
With heavens lights:
Hissing crystal tails of vaporous 
Comets -
Condense within the blazing trails
Of burning meteorites!

Indeed! Men may sail on celestial
Seas -
As they traverse the showering 
Heights:
Exploding forth in grandest 
Majesties 
In golden realms of the Gods 
Hurled smites!
Seek their solace upon Eternities 
Unending oceans -
Their fortunes blown by solar winds:
Mortal souls searching in perpetuity 
Until the dawning revelry then 
Rescinds.

Answering the call to old Gabriels 
Horn,
As dappling sunlight creeps across
My undaunted little tower,
I open my eyes to the new born
Morn -
When summoned to the beckoning
Hour.
Descending from my fortified
Might,
Reinforced with new found zeal,
I reflect upon this newly provoked
Insight -
As the happy chapel bell begins
To joyously peel!

So awaken, Herald! 
And usher in ennobled thoughts,
For enlightenment sought,
Inside where aspirations deem
To dwell.
Just as the planted seeds,
Of much great nourished deeds,
Do so germinate - all naysayers to 
Dispel;
As all lofty creeds, 
Must at some point,
Readily concede, in time,
To the bleak tolling 
Of the cruel fates final knell!

Therefore, put yourself to the 
Immediate task,
Against all obstacles however 
Mean or extreme,
Whilst upon the faithful handle 
Firmly grasp
Of worn tools whose blades are
Worthy and keen.
When bending your strong back 
To take the strain,
Denying any quarter or appeals 
To moderate refrain,
Over adversity you justifiably 
Deign:
Your laudable goals, 
Thus, to surely attain.

Hear me then!
Build tall your Broughs,
Withstanding fancies flight,
Disregarding all those
Who may well try:  
Seek to disparage, ridicule and
Slight.
Suffer not scoffers, knaves 
And braying fools 
But raise up your proud
Monuments
Wherever you should most joyfully
Choose!
For in among the ruins where
Failure steals:
So prevails triumph -
To forever chase his grim presence 
From your low-rubbled fields!




My gratitude to my good friend Mr George Dee Vuy for inspiring me to conceive these
last three verses with the beautiful word..."Ennobled"!! 
Many thanks, George!

Details | Hope Poem |

Silver Haze

*                     ~Dark Silver Haze~                               *

   (side#1)                                         (side #2)

come taste life                  ----------  Heart-warming wine
old and stale,                   ----------   Jot down a line
unflavored, unpolished,      ---------   Mood changes hue
A sour, dim shade              ---------   To sweet silver blue

the lowest feeling              ---------- How high the cost
eternal gray sky               ----------  How much is lost
hollow memories               ---------- Back payment due
A sour, dim shade             ---------  To sweet silver blue 

weak limbs, overpower         ------- Head shake and sigh
moments of lights              --------  None left to deny
everything ends                 --------  Insight in view
A sour, dim shade             --------  To sweet silver blue 


torn from reality             --------   Somehow I gain
low spirits of sorrow        --------  Beauty from pain
bitter and dull,                 --------- As thoughts turn to you
A sour, dim shade           --------   To sweet silver blue


**A deep Look Into The eyes of the Poet Destroyer**

~A Tim Ryerson Collaboration~

Details | Hope Poem |

Love Sleeps, Never Dies

An old man
A Grumpy bitter old man
Bitter face
Red nose
Wrinkled beady eyes
Scruffy clothes his best attire

Life has not been kind
So his bitter words bite those around
He lived alone, inside his madness
Leave me be and go to hell
His favorite expressions

The phone rang one night late
This is the Court sir, your brother’s son and family 
Have been in a terrible accident
Only your niece of four survived
When can you pick her up?

The old man was in a daze
What the hell was he being punished for now
Keeping care of a dam kid
What the bloody hell did he know about that?
"Well sir, we will be expecting you tomorrow, 9am prompt please"

Walking back to his flat, with a 4 year old girl in tow
Well the neighbors gawked to say the least
The poor little girl, tears and teddy, trying to keep up with grumpy
Once inside his flat, he looked at her with disdain
Said "Guess you be expecting some food or some such"

She nodded, as sad as she was, she was indeed hungry
He showed her the cupboard and fridge, milk and cereal in there
Help yourself, and wash the dam dishes afterwards
Don’t got no extra bed, so you sleep here on the couch
She nodded silently, thinking the world truly must have ended

Days, turned into weeks, turned into months
This little girl complained not once
All she could think of was her pain
Mummy and daddy were in heaven where ever that was
Why they left her was truly confusing

Friday was her birthday
She was sad and missing her family
Getting ready, she went to the cupboard for dinner
The old man said what the hell you doing that for?
She shivered in fear, he was always so so so mad

She apologies, sorry uncle Pete
He replied you sit your self down right there
And you be quiet you here?
Then the lights all of sudden went out
Bright tiny candles burned in the night

The old man, said, is your birthday after all
Hope you don’t mind these little cupcakes I got us here
She looked at him with new eyes
He turned, not quite smiling, no miracles just yet
They ate in silence after which, he said good night and happy birthday

The next morning even they really never talked
Other than who does what chores
Or how expensive she was to care for
She asked out of the blue
"Uncle, why do angels have wings?"

In his usual grumpy way, he replied
"So they get the hell away from us as fast as they can is why
This world is no place for happiness or angels get used to that"
She was taken back by his bitterness, still………
She replied, “but I dream on them looking over me uncle"

Well he looked at her, and somewhat softly and with unusual kindness
He answered her "that’s because you are one of them, a sweet little angel"
She ran into his arms and gave him a big hug
This was a very good thing.
For then she could not see the single tear the dropped to the floor

He actually hugged her back and with all of his heart
That day, a day for most people that was a normal day
Was for him and his little charge, a miracle
A small loving child, held that secret key
To opening an old mans heart

Details | Hope Poem |

Windowpanes

An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the
evening to be appropriate for the purpose.
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by
our café.

When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew,
I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true,
A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent
Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent.

I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more.
Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore,
The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry,
As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by.

The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane
As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes.
The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave
And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve.

My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war
But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before.
She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside,
And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride.

Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart,
For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part.
Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear
That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear.

The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years,
Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears,
When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew,
And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.

Details | Hope Poem |

The Peephole that is the Moon

An infinite door of midnight blue;
glowing peephole that is the moon.
Dare I look before turned to dust?
Yes, dear friend, I surely must.

In the midst, a city of finest gold,
large as the earth; immense and bold.
Quoins of pearl, this must be known,
the lusture seemed a life, it's own.
Rising from it, a mountainous temple;
whisps of prayers escape the steeple.

Without the city, fields of crystal flowers,
and trees more akin to wind chime towers.
Platinum trunks doning metalic leaves.
Angelic music when brushed with their wings.

Out from all this, layers of various planes
seemingly worlds of their own, yet all of the same.
Once starving children and homeless ones too,
with comforts of home; endless tables of food.
One plane of great sports, children running free;
prosthetics and wheelchairs, now trophies and glee.
Another, Indian braves running with buffalo,
women laughing carefree with children in tow.
Serene planes of beaches and tropical breezes.
On none was found pain, lameness or diseases.
Thousands of planes, but my favorite to view;
families and the ancients with no need of adieu.
So euphoric, this sight, but there is more to tell,
as three glorious chimes of the great temple bell.

All froze still as beams of golden light
transported them to the temple in quiet.
The most beautiful prayers and songs arose.
From within the city; pure love aglow.
Three bells again and all were beamed out;
some to the same planes, some different routes.

I wanted so badly, to open the door
and be in this place forever more,
but the door was locked and I had no key,
then an angel turned and flew towards me.
Approaching the peephole, that is the moon,
It said, "Don't worry, you'll be here soon."
I have need of a key, I began to implore,
and it slipped a note neath the midnight door.

I unfolded the note; three lines within,
and three nails fell out; payment of sin.
The first line proclaimed, the door was faith.
The second; the beams are God's loving grace.
Overcome by peace as I read the third line.
Jesus is the way, the truth and the light,
and I remembered a scripture that so sweetly states;
"For by grace, through faith, are ye saved."

Details | Hope Poem |

Waiting to be free

             Waiting to be free

I am dying, but not like anybody who died.
     I am living, but in the rainbow I do reside. 
How much longer I will go until secrets unveil?
     My mind cannot comprehend but my heart will decide.
My problems are too simple, my remedy complex;
     Love is my medicine, which I have identified.
Destination is unknown; the journey is too short,
     My vehicle is broken, our driver is mystified. 
My body is a cage, my soul is shackled inside. 
     Speak not of troubles, my pain will be justified.
The door is half open; I can see the ray of love, 
     My heart will take over until we’re all unified.
Tomorrow, I will fly with swallows, they know the path.
     Who can you trust “Haloo”? There is no one to confide.

March 1st 2016   Haloo


I dedicate this poem to Daniel Turner, for all his love and friendship.

Details | Hope Poem |

Before and Beyond The Bed

When 
When did a bed become your prison
I see your strength absorbed
Absorbed by the mattress 
I turn you
Trying to prevent sores
Who would have thought soft sheets
White sheets
Could cut like glass
I hold on to you
The younger you
Remembering your smile
your vitality
I had thought you to be
The most beautiful woman in the world
It is said that boys fall in love with their mothers
What I miss most 
Yes most of all is laughter
Playful exchanges
Those times no one else existed
The moments when we were the best of us
Before life became real
Responsibilities
Chasing of dreams
Growing up
I thank you for my humor
My irreverence 
My questioning
My creativity
These were not accidents
They sprouted from the ground you nurtured
The listening
The time you spent
The cheering I heard as I lived my journey
I knew I could always come home
Now you are home 
My home
Let me read to you my stories
We still have smiles to share
You who I love 
Who cared for me
I will not abandon you to a strangers care
Endings matter
I will usher you to your beginning
This bed can't hold one as strong as you
One day soon
You will skip into paradise
You will pick daisies
You will place them in your long flowing hair
When the time is right I will join you
When I have accomplished all that I need to do
I will miss you
I will cry for myself
Not for you
Because I know
You live beyond this room
I will once again
Know
You are the most beautiful
Woman in the world!


Dedicated to my Friend Armand.

Details | Hope Poem |

ALWAYS HAVE HOPE

(For my friend Aisling: da'iman 'amal)


In the night that runs on fear, smile at me.
When nightmares haunt, laugh at me.
When demons show their ugly masks, beam at me.
And always, ever have hope.

When your head is so full it cascades, stare at stars.
As thoughts spill ferociously, softly seek them.
Forget thousands of misplaced words, see glimmers
Of hope, always have hope.

Days where you can't hear your thoughts, listen to music.
Minutes failing to making sense, immerse in singing.
'Seconds' a word without meaning, tune in harmony.
Believe in hope, there always is hope.

When nothing rhymes, you almost lose it,
In darker days, you cannot meet it,
In doubt, despair, or anger, it will elope,
But it will return, not ever lose hope!

***

January 21, 2017

Details | Hope Poem |

Internal Interview

Living amid the blurred lines of my reflections
Stark cold fears snow me blanket my resolve
Nestled my leafless core begging for rebirth

Patches of life clumped to the reality of what is what was
Soul penetrating every doubt of self worth 
Raw exposure of glory days forgone

Dreams engulf the rapture of greener pastures
Revealed in roots embedded firmly in my foundation 
Seeds flourish branches extend and trunks stand firm

Details | Hope Poem |

kaleidoscope

through a tiny lens
held firmly with hands
eyes gaze in awe..

with a simple twist
colours explode harmoniously
bright, sparkling,blinding..

the colours are stunning
so vivid, so alive
with truth as in life..

this ever changing vision
is but broken glass shards
not whole, not complete..

simple, plain, tiny pieces
they don't fit, they don't belong
different shades, different sizes..

fragmented, swirling on command
no direction,they stop; at one's touch
and through this seemingly disconnect..

therin lies their beauty
for these tiny glistening pieces
imperfect jewel tone shades, dance; together..

revealing the essence of life,
humanity and all who breathe
for they gloriously join; naturally..

to inspire joy, excitement, wonderment
the green piece could be a used wine bottle
tiny violet piece from a castaway vase..

regardless of their origin
these magnificant, illuminating pieces
unite as one and magically dance..

with truth as in life
beauty is as beauty does
fusing together, naturally, effortlessly..

kaleidoscope..

broken shards now glistening jewels
the spirit of every man, woman and child
is part of this most magical creation..

for every size, shape and gorgeous hue
is us; in every race, age & size
coming together, to create, to inspire..

tunnel vision seamlessly vanishes
as eyes are opened; captivated
at the wonderment, joy and harmony of..

becoming one; beautifully and with faith..

kaleidoscope.

Details | Hope Poem |

Revelation

They always said I was "special" or useless,
full of excuses, slow to learn but my wit had a quickness,
so I decided to embrace my uniqueness,
and look at me now leaving people speechless.

They challenge me and their ego decreases,
they think I'm an easy target all blonde and simple,
but I can tie laces and pull down bridges,
leaving red faces on all those people.

I'm just a nuisance that you cannot silence,
it's just the written word it's not acts of violence,
but offensive 'cus I've mastered the art of deliverance,
I went from special needs to the rank of brilliance.

I'm an example of how evolution is impossible to prevent,
I don't have a need for revolution, I don't give up and reinvent.
I'm this generations arrival of something different,
and what that means is anything but insignificant.

It's just the basic nature of our creature,
the arrival, the stay and the retreat,
a rotation of stature and main feature,
allowing the old to take their seat.

I've realised that being different is a gift
able to move you above the competition.
It's a rare dynamic thought process that lifts
out a unique idea missed by everyone.

It's a natural advantage to protect from sabotage,
that has an exceptional outcome way above average.
I don't need to hide out of sight wearing camouflage,
I have the right tools and ambition to build my own bridge.

I write rhymes but it was never predicted,
people thought my brain was restricted,
I always allowed their insults to inflict,
listening to put downs meant my mind was tricked.

Then I stopped listening and my confidence lifted,
and found that being unique also means gifted.

Many remembered by history were not deemed ordinary,
I guess "the odd kid" grows into the extraordinary.
Creating their very own original story,
billions lived but they stay in the memory.

So, I guess, with a self belief that could be me,
and if not at least the illusion makes me happy.


29/03/18
P.O.T.D 30/03/18

Details | Hope Poem |

I Saw a Sundrop: Constanza

I saw a sundrop in a field,
a daffodil to be exact,
stand brave upon the snow-filled tract.

In blighting cold it would not yield;
long since its fellows disappeared
to that one spot it still adhered,

though flurries did the winter wield.
The autumn did its namesakes in
before the hoarfrost could begin

and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
with falling rain becoming snow.
The way of death it would not go

as though behind a covert shield
that kept its sunlit attitude
when sleet unto the land ensued.

I saw a sundrop in the field,
in blighting cold it would not yield,
though flurries did the winter wield
and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
as though behind a covert shield.

11/15/17

Details | Hope Poem |

The Promise of Spring - A Fibonacci

I 
Will
Kiss you
While you sleep
Lady dressed in white
And melt your cold heart  made of ice

Then
You
Will rise
Liquefied
High into the sky
And fall as raindrops from God’s eyes

To
The 
Waiting
Buds below
Where now you will grow
With me - in the bloom of a rose


           ~~~
Author:  Elaine George


* Note:  This poem is a Personification as well as a triple Fibonacci

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