Best Inspirationalchild Poems


Advent Service

Advent Service 

Fresh-faced innocence
In light's pure radiance
Eyes aglowing
Wonder showing
In receipt of given light
Shines within the darkest night.

Christ has come into this world
Innocent child yet radiant light
Speechless I can only watch
Long to worship with a touch
Offer the child that lives in me
At this holy nativity

Anne Linington
2006 ©

Advent Sunday is my favourite day in the Church Calendar- with all the anticipation of the
fulfillment of prophecy, as Christ the light comes into the world.

This poem is a "snap-shot": a young chorister having received her lighted candle turned to
light the one behind her; as she turned her pretty face is bathed in light

I Am the Child

I am the child, of a child, of a child, of a child, of a slave.   They were the children, of the 
children, of the children of kings, Queens, scholars and worriers of Africa.

I am the descendent of wisdom, which gave the inhabitants of Earth the Knowledge of the 
World that surrounds them, the universe above, the earth beneath their feet and oceans that 
surround this planet.

I am the child that has to prove himself more then others, who has to study harder, play 
harder, pray with sincerity and walk in faith.  I am the child that must put God first. 

I am the child through the wisdom of my ancestors I am able to see further then most.  The 
future that awaits me, brighter then the one my father and mother before me had.

I am the child that listens when my elders speak, because they were the ones who laid the 
groundwork.  From them I will take the torch, carry it high and proudly as they did years 
before me.

I am the child who will one day have children, and those children will believe as I do.  They 
will know that they are the descendent of a proud people, and the strength of the spirit will 
keep them from harm.////

Premium Member Ism

Solace in solitude is not solace,
Yet solitude drapes around me as fog.  
It backs up against the yellowing pale of democracy,
falling to cries of ism.
Ism builds the bridge 
but passes nothing across.
Ism makes us all equally nothing.
It fills no gaps.
It eases no pain.
Everyone has so many rights, that no one has any.

Enough postulations.
Enough whining in the vernacular of drag abouts.
Enough hoping and cursing for the good old day, lost forever.
Infused in false hope and pseudo dreams
lying ever on the edge of tomorrow,
Swirling mists of anxiety 
float on the tongue of every asker,
of every question.
who, what, where, when, why?
Burying answers in a vault of hypocrisy,
those who answer preening their social feathers
puffed in pompous indignation
of politically correct double talk.

Words are expounded, hearts are lifted. You hear trumpets sound,
only the small child utters, “What did he say”.
And a child shall lead them.
“What did he say?”
And they all ask “What did he say”?
he dares not say it again.

Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free.
Not:  your poor tired huddled masses, yearning for all that is free. 

©  16 Dec 2010  For Gareth's "inspirational"contest


Poet Soldiers

The child turned to his future
asking what am I to be
a poet or a soldier
who shall make this choice for me
am I to lead or am I to follow
what is my destiny

the child suddenly felt a whisper
flow through his very being
you may choose what you shall  be
but hear this moment well
from this heartbeat on 
you alone decide your legacy

Hannibal and Burns
not so different than you or me
one shared his words with the world  
 the other took all that he could see
every man writes his own history
before he is laid to rest
  
a soldier and a poet
each one mere flesh and bone
both shall surely perish as mortals
each chooses their own battlefield
a soldier shields himself with armour
a poet is protected by his truth

a soldier may wage fear because he can
the poet builds with words and belief
one yields a sword as a weapon
the other draws  a landscape with prose
the soldier lives to follow orders
a poet hears the wind

a soldier takes by force
the poet  bestows imagination
one seeks the spoils of war
the other merely time to think
one grants conditions of surrender
the other will  shares his daily bread

a soldier may cross to a new frontier
the poet traverses galaxies
one occupies a country
the other captivates the mind
one sees sunrise as time to march on 
the other to kneel and give  thanks

the child then chose
where his journey would take him
bidding farewell to his days of innocence
bowing humbly to the vast sea
in his heart he took in a mighty wave 
whispering share this journey with me

Irish          Qualicum Bay 2008

I Did It All For You

I dreamed one night not long ago Jesus knelt beside my bed
I could tell He had been crying His eyes were very red
He said My child I know sometimes you really don't feel loved
But I'm here to remind you why I left My throne above
I did it all for you My child I didn't hesitate
Even though I bore much pain
My love for you was great
If you had been the only one living on the earth
I still would have died for you
That's how much you're worth
But can I tell you something
I didn't want to die
I even asked the Father to let the cup pass by
But I submitted to God's will because I love you so
I hold you tightly in My hand I'll never let you go

Who Do You Run To- Run To Me

Who do you run to when you are alone 
Who do you run to when you feel that you are hopeless
Who do you run to when you are tired of running
Who do you run to when you are trying to escape 
Who do you run to when every corner you turn is a dead end street
Who do you run to when you feel like giving up
Who do you run to when you dont know the answers to the questions
Who do you run to when you need love
Who do you run to when you feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders
Who do you run to because I am tired of running

Run to me my child when you are alone
Run to me my child when you are feeling hopeless
I will hold you when your feet are tired from running
I will provide the way out when you are in need of rescue
I will be your GPS  (GOD's POINTING SYSTEM) when you are misguided
Run to me my child because the Struggle Is Over
I will provide your answers for you
I have an unconditional love for you that can not be penetrated
I will not put more on you than you can bare
Run no more my child because for now I will carry you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Fears

The child used to jump at shadows behind the door
And scream at creaks in the floor. 
He used to sleep with a night-light
For he feared a monster might come at night. 
But now – no more.
No more monsters under the bed
No more vampires rising from the dead.
The child grew up, 
Replaced cereal in milk with black coffee in a fancy cup.
Gone were the days of his childhood,
As he became an awkward teenager
And then marched into adulthood.
The old childhood fears are behind him,
No more hiding under the covers at the fall of moon beams.
But then, one ordinary, sunny day,
The child discovered the old fears have never really been away. 
They’ve taken new names
But the fear, bitter and cold, remains just the same.
This time it’s not a vampire coming to suck his blood
But cancer to fester in him, to suck his life. 
This time it’s not a zombie rising from its grave
But waking up alone, the leaving of his wife. 
This time it’s not witch casting a wicked spell
But his boss saying the magic words, “You are fired.”
This time it’s not a ghost coming to chill his bones
But depression sinking in, losing interest in life, getting tired.
This time the fears cannot be expelled
Not by garlic, not by crosses, not even by daylight.
Nothing can keep them away,
And they come back to gnaw on him, day after day.
For children fears are forgotten – until the next encounter,
But for adults they are here to stay. 
The only way out, some say, is death,
For they take refuge in their last breath. 
He suddenly remembered his childhood,
When one day he bravely wandered into the woods,
Just to make sure nothing was lurking – and then he understood.
Like a child, he would fight the fear, conquer it,
Little by little, bit by bit.
He would embrace the fear
And live with it all through the years.

A Child

A child is just like 
A little plant
That is starting to grow
That need to be nurture
Everyday with love
A fruit that tree
That have been well manure
A child is just like
An open book
Waiting to be written
An empty vessel
That need to filled with knowledge

A child brings
Joy, happiness and love
To every heart
The smile on their innocent faces
Brings a smile
To every faces
A child reminds you
Of who and what you used to be...
...and looked like
A child is a gift of life
A child is a gift of love

The Throw Aways

Tonight somewhere another Mary knock vainly on our doors
Another Joseph would pay anything for you to let him in
The powerless, the dispossessed, the broken on our shores
The children wandering on the streets stigmatized with sin

A teenage pregnant daughter, an idealistic boy, a child cold
And shuddering in wintry snow and rain, their body marked
With graffiti of grief, O too pierced and blemished to be sold
For anything but a diminished dime, for bed only in the park

And on pondering city stones the cops boot irreverent pounds
"Get up! you cannot sleep here, clean this garbage, go home!"
The cold law without compassion, the barking of hell's hounds
The fragment sleep, the figment dream, a city wide to roam

But home, but home, no, O no! Not that pale brittle place again
Not the silence of the voice, not the agony of inner shame
Not the torment of abuse, the battered beast breaks the chain
And streets are solace of the pain, the rage without a name.

What abandoned building is the inn, what bridge the manger
What throw away child is the Saviour's mild muffled cry
What needle, what prophetic pipe, what project is the danger
The mule is pregnant with the dope, and foul heroin fly

What magi will tell us, what star will mark the maggot space
Where homeless children come to sleep, and begin anew
Their journey for the cross? O love by theories now defaced
Give us grace to save a few, courage now to rise and do.

God's Glory Your Gain

For several years now I've been plagued
By sickness and disease
Now it's hard to do the things I used to do with ease
One night not too long ago I went to God in prayer
I said "In Your word You tell us to cast on You our care
Tell me Lord what have I done to make You mad at me
Open up my blinded eyes so I can clearly see"
In quietness I heard Him say "My child please understand
Although you're in a valley I still hold you in My hand
You have not done a thing My child to make Me mad at you
But this is for My glory and I will see you through
Remember this my precious one there won't always be pain
For when I get My glory you will get your gain
You're going to come out stronger than you ever did before
I am refining you as gold; don't worry anymore"

Silent Night

Silent night
	Somewhere in the city a child lies freezing
Holy night
	A parent sits vigil by their dying child’s bed
All is calm
	War reaches the far expanses of the world
All is bright
	A desperate father puts a gun to his head

Round yon virgin; 
	A child awakens on Christmas morning
Mother and child
	The sound of bells echo through the day
Holy infant 
	Smiles are seen and love is strongly felt
So tender and mild
	He came to show us the way

Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

Let us not forget the whys and reason of the season

Premium Member Christmas Is

When I was just a little girl
My mama said to me,
"Christmas is more than Santa Claus
And presents on the tree.
Christmas is a gift to us
From our Father up above.
He sent his Son to bring us peace
And teach the world to love.
We haven't treated His gift well
Nor loved the way we should.
This is the time to honor Him
By being very good.
Don't cry and ask for everything
You see upon the shelves.
It's the time to think of others and
A little less of selves".

She said we'd buy a pretty gift
For a child we'd never see
And put it with the others that
Were on the "Giving Tree".
I asked if we might buy the doll
That I'd been asking for
To give to the unknown child
Who was so sad and poor.
My mother smiled at me and said,
"My Dear, I think you've learned
The true meaning of Chirstmas is
To give that for which you've yearned".

When I found my old  doll, Nelly
With new clothes on Christmas day,
I was glad some child was happy
With her new doll, far away.
I could see her with her dolly
In her home I knew not where
As I rocked my darling Nelly
In my brand new rocking chair.



Christmas In July contest ladies only  eleventh place

If I Could Be a Child Again

If I could be a child again,

 what would I do.

I would right all my wrongs, and make myself new.

To be a child again,

what a wonderful thing.
 
To relive lessons learned and make the world sing.

If I could be a child again,

 with what I know now.

What a difference I could make,


because now I know how.



 I would tell all the parents,

the teachers,and coaches,

to prepare us for tomorrow,

 for the future approaches.

Monitor these children in all that they do,

so that they may be a light for me and for you.

If I could be a child again,

 I would tell all my peers,

don't live for the moment,

 but plan for the years.

I would talk to all people,

 the good and the bad,

 and take constructive criticism,

 without getting mad.

I would tell all my friends,

 to idle their throttles,

respect their parents and teachers,

for they are role models.

If I could be a child again,

 in this day and age,

 life would be my pulpit,

 the world my stage.

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