Best Inspirationalold Poems
The ending of an old week
the beginning of a new month
and the memories of an old hour.
The dawning of a new day
the setting of an old sun
and the rising of a new star.
A perfect year has begun
your dreams lay not afar.
Start it with a smile
and make this coming year
a year worthwhile!
Hey people...soooo sorry I wasn't here to read all of your lovely poems in a long while,
I've been really busy with school....I wish you all a happy new year and I hope it brings
lots more wonderful poetry as well....I missed you all!....:).......love always, Maryam
Sometimes you hear an old tune,
Time stands still.
Remembering days gone by.
Special days, old loves or just
a younger you.
Memories, wonderful memories
can turn back the clock of life.
Life is a short precious journey ,
Make sure you fill it well.
Copyright 2008
Anne Rutherford
Poems From The
Heart Series.
"Buhaha"
I laughed as my dad almost slipped
Off the steep slope
And he got up pissed
"Old men cant climb"
My brother said
As he passed by dad
While the old man went red
I,trying to keep in shape
Drops of sweat running down my chest
"At least im no size 12"
A sarcastic old man said during a rest
I narrowed my eyes
And started to climb faster
And all in all my fat was burned
And the hill was what i mastered
By nightfall i seeked for branches
And fallen woods froom trees
But what i found curled in a nest
Was none other than a broken winged bumble bee
A small little black and yellow thing
still buzzing with no energy to it left
I picked it up with fear
But the thing was no pest
I walked around to find tents
And somehow I lost my way
below the now appearing moon
And a coyote suddenly shows before the end of day
I stay still
Hoping no screams will let it go away
And although it began to come closer
With the bee is where i stayed
When the coyote started to dance around
I was not sure what was it i see
but i looked down at my palms
I saw no bee
The bee flunged around
Like a drunk neighbour on halloween
And the coyote runaway
Along with the bee
Although ive never in my life so the broken winged bee again
I thank it
(I was alway afraid of bees .Never liked them.If a bee appeared in my face i ran like a
loony.What made me to pick up that obiviously living bee i dont know.But since them ive
been quite fund of them,never afraid again.I also grow a garden to welcome them in with my
sunflowers.Since its hardwork keeping up with a garden in the middle of this heated country
of 40 degrees(dubai),ive lost about enough to make me a size 8)
I sit in my car on an old bridge painted white.
the stream passes under as I wait for the light
an old turtle suns itself on a rock near the bank
this turtle is my touchstone if I may be so frank
when ever I cross this bridge he is always there
looking stoic unencumbered and without a care
as ducks circle the thrown of this little marsh king
the stream flows the day wanes he wants not a thing
he hardly moves at all with his nose high in the air
there’s a smile on that face with the know it all stare
on occasion as I happen to be waiting for the light
I turn to find him looking right at me what a sight
what a strange feeling it’s like he’s in my head
telling me to take care ease up or I’ll drop dead
I realize that life has a rhythm but we set the pace
life is for living and it doesn’t have to be a race
A Special Class
Can a friendship last forever?
Is the question that I ask,
So many years have flown on by,
so much time has past.
Girls and guys who once were friends,
acquaintances and lovers,
are now grown up people,
husbands, wives and mothers.
Still in our hearts and through our words, we travel back in time.
To renew old friendships lost, reunions so sublime.
We remember fondly, old friends we have lost,
determined to remember their lives at any cost.
We have not forgotten you, all of our dear friends.
You live in our hearts and thoughts till time without end.
Each of us helped create each other in some complex way.
We became one together as we grew each day.
We played and loved together, learning of this life
We shared our unending happiness, our fears and our strife.
We shared the tears of lovers lost, never to return
We shared the joys of new loves found and of those we spurned.
We laughed and cried together each and every day.
Each knowing we were bonded in a special way.
For we are all graduates of a special class
Who will never forget, no matter how much time has passed.
Bonds of friendship yet unbroken through the passing decades
Remain as strong as ever as new ones now are made.
So to you my classmates from so long ago,
I say a fond hello and onward we will go.
My brothers and sisters, the twiddle dee,
Can very well be, you and me,
If within, our minds we stray
And don’t find our narrow way!
The old man of the mind,
Can never find,
Love’s kind,
It’s not of his mind!
Jesus said lose the old self,
Un till nothing is left,
To lose the old kind, is to find,
Love’s kind!
The soul sprang forth,
From a sacred birth,
Not of this earth,
The earth has no worth,
To give in exchange,
A means, to rearrange,
A mind, that’s deranged,
And needs change!
The two twiddle dees,
Chose their own tree,
By what they could see,
They thought they could be knowledge,
Of their own college!
Love the real college,
Of life knowledge,
Was bound to present,
And to the mind, a choice was sent,
So that love, could rejoice,
With another love’s choice!
Do you now understand Boyce,
How it was that love gave a choice,
To the mind of Boyce,
So that love could rejoice,
With love which is Boyce!
Love, the power that made the vessel,
Went through a hassle,
For his chosen vessel,
To give a choice,
To love, the real Boyce!
Without love and it’s vessel, no two for choice,
Love and love’s vessel, which is Boyce,
So let us greatly rejoice,
About Love’s choice!!
1-7-09
And oh how I live to breathe this ... .
~ "Because true love is unconditional and being a big old grump-myself-sometimes. Yes a
big old grizzly... without my coffee its the treasure for-me so-very-hard-to-come by-in
this world, today." Like the sweet sound of breaking the-natural freedom-of rhyme, and the
certain-reverence stirring in-the-spirit of a home that-lives only for this, one pure
reason. Seen now-and-viewed in-the likeness-of the-orange and red-brown and
yellow-of-a-joyous-leaf... . Blowing-free-in-the-ease of the wind, and knowing-the-sound
of a new hope rising-to-greet-the greener grasses, thriving-amid-the-perfect-beauty
growing in-plain view of-the other side of-the morning.
Stirring-in-the-depths-of-your-heart and the-well, of-your soul... riding-high-atop the
puffy-white-clouds-above, billowing-up to greet the light of Heaven.
Yes-those temperate... and ever wonderful-things... . Like the-birds chirping fondly and
the-gentle sounds of my toddlers' laughter, and-slippery wet little kisses ...
given-by-the-lips-of-an angel. As you-hear-a violent-shouting wake-up,
wake-up-and-a-rap-tap-tapping, on heavens-bedroom-door. As then your awakened again... .
Get up step-up onto-a-buzzer toy. Slip-stumble to the challenge of-not-spilling
the-coffee, and-you-dance once-more with your lovely daughter-in-the-kitchen.
In-front-of-your-wife's-Mother-and-hers, sweet-Grandmothers-picture... . Hanging humbly on
the wall as you tip your daughter again extending-yourself as you always do each morning
to straiten it. As-you fumble about teetering holding on to her on the edge of your feet
as she smiles at you as-you-spill-it-and-yell-oh-no-tenderly-and you-ask-the-wife if-she
could grab the morning paper.
Yes that freaky tone of a squeaky wet balloon, and the ongoing run of happy little
giggles... Rising to new heights in the pool underneath the summer sun... As your young
son splashes chlorine water in your face and cup... .
And so is love the prize in all its authenticity. A true and raw emotion... Boldly
running, and wildly shouting! Hey! Those certain conditions and ultimatums are just fine,
but don't you dare take my morning coffee!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZNvQMJ7N0s
He lived in an old shanty just past the railroad tracks,
Not many left just two or three worn out old shacks.
But the old saying home is where you hang your hat,
Lot of people don’t know it but there is a lot of truth to that.
Just this old one room building was probably the most, old Skeet had ever had,
His virtues are his riches and those are priceless, tis a shame we can’t all be this bad.
Old Skeet never attends church anymore, since someone said they would rather he wouldn’t come back,
But I’ll guarantee you he can quote the Bible, verse by verse and never lose track.
I don’t know of any preacher that knows the Word any better’n old Skeet,
And when we are called to Heavens door I don’t think old Skeet will have to give up his seat.
If old Skeet sees someone needing help, he doesn’t ask he just pitches in,
He lives daily by the Holy Commandments in a world filled with sin.
Old Skeet has seen many a hard winter, but never once have I heard him complain,
He said the Lord has been good, when I was thirsty he furnished me rain.
And when I am weary, He is there too comfort my soul,
No matter what may come or be, he said I know my God is in control.
On the last day we talked he said son I could have been more than what I am today,
But I have peace and compromising God's values is just not my way.
It's such a blessing how the
young world it's still
progressing
The quality of life it's based on
imagination
A vigor of emotions which has
us stuck in amazement
Youth. A state of mind with will
of pure termination
Nobody grows old by living a
number of years
People grow old by executing
certain ideals
Wether you are thirteen or
eighty three
There is in every beings heart
the simple joy of wonder.
The childlike appetite of whats
left to come next
You are as old as your doubt,
As young as your interest,
As old as fear,
Its all just a game of existence.
The undaunted challenges we
prevail are all wired with the
innermost core of how we feel.
Perhaps may be that life is
wrought with fever and fraught
with danger,
Our spirits unembodied by evils
we've grown.
From man to the beauty of
women and the power of earth,
infinite courage
So long you are young.
Wandering around the city with my little boy
His nine year old brain filled with such joy
An adventure with grandma, a day just for him
Both of us bubbling, filled to the brim...
Up hill and down hill..what's round the bend
Find a present for mama for him to send
Weather just perfect, a fine summer day
A day filled with such innocent play
But then on the sidewalk he saw an old man
Dirty and toothless, holding a can
He stopped, stared and tears started to flow
Life had given him one hearty blow
He had a few dollars still in his pocket
Forget buying mom a shiny new locket
Straight to the can his dollars all went
This life lesson surely from heaven sent
Do you hear the sound of a little drummer?
Here it is Christmas in the middle of summer......
There was an old dirty man, sitting on a bench in Central Park;
The sun was going down; it was starting to get dark;
As people hurried by he would beg and he would plead,
“Hello kind person, could you please help me?”
His approach would simply quicken their pace,
He had such a pitiful look on his face;
No one dared to look him straight in the eye;
He appeared on the verge of starting to cry.
Finally a fellow who looked down on his own
Approached the old man and said,
“Come on Pops let me take you to a home,
And help you get put in a bed.”
“Thank you sir,” the old man replied,
“But there’s another place I’d rather go,
I can’t find St. Patrick’s, as hard as I tried,
Could you lead me the way, if you know?”
So the kind fellow helped him up
And walked him to the cathedral doors;
Led him to a pew of his own
And left him to see him no more.
While riding the subway back to his flat
He found an envelope in the pocket of his coat;
He couldn’t believe the old man had done that
As he read the letter with a lump in his throat.
“Whoever you are, thanks for your help;
My real issue is I don’t know how to distribute my wealth.
So I pretend to be an old man in poverty
And reward those kind enough to assist me.
So take this 25,000 dollar check
And do with it as you will
This dirty old billionaire that you helped
You’ve provided a wonderful thrill.”
Now that poor guy that you stop to help
May not turn out to be me;
You may not end up with a surprise check
But you will be rewarded most certainly.
Heaven is where I want to go,
when this old body gives way,
to death,
And my days are over and
I'll walk this road no more,
when I no longer see blue skies
over my head or smell that fresh
clean air of spring, which brings
me such delight.
When dreams stop,
coming to my heart and mind,
I tell my self, but there is
tomorrow, knowing full well that
is never to come to past.
In heaven all dreams will come true,
our hearts will never be sad or
broken ever again, no tears will
come to our eyes, no longer will
we have grief.
Yes I'll leave this old world
and the memories of it will
pass away into a distance
far away,
knowing that I will also
leave behind the pain
that this old body has
carried for ages.
Yes death you are welcome here,
at anytime, I'm ready, I don't
fear you,
I fear living more than dying.
I want to walk on those streets
of gold and meet those saints
of old and put my arm around
my dear old mother once again,
but most of all I want to meet
the one who died for me, so
that I could come to heaven,
to thank Him in person for
everything and making it possible
for me to be in glory.
wrote 5-1-08