Full Of Life Poems | Examples

Dear Mom

  It's been almost Nine months since you left us  
  and my heart still aches.
  I miss you so much- your smiles that lit up the room, your stories that carried wisdom, and those Reality checks that only You could give. 
   I'm angry that your gone, You were the strongest person I knew,  so talented, so full of life. 
   I know how hard it was for you in the end, to rely on others for daily care. When independence had always been a great strength. 
   But those days brought us closer, and for that  
  I am grateful. 
   I hold onto the blessings of your final years, 
  The love we shared, the lessons you left in my 
 heart.
   You Were The Best Mom.
   I Miss you Deeply.
   I Love You Always.
     Forever Your Child

Rust

I am a ruined house 
With a rusty fence,
So many phantoms reside resting recklessly,
A clock on the mantelpiece that won't work.  It's stuck staring at me,
Tick………,
The wallpaper is crumbling and fading away like my miserable memories. 
It doesn't seem real even though it is. 
Dreamy, dreary , dread , dead. 
But the fire is still working
Though everything is cold 
And almost dead. 
Somehow it is never always cold,
Flames auburn and assured. 

I fall in love,
When the wind
Clatters and chatters the weary windows. 

When you knocked on the tedious door,
I fell in love with you,
You seemed full of halo light,
Full of sparks
Like the 4th of July,
Your words full of life,
You could make thousands of people alive. 
But I can't untarnish the fence, 
Can't paint the walls crimson. 
But your eyes think,
I'm beautiful,
Life is fleeting and transient,
So, I started painting the panelled wooden house crimson. 
You can't paint oak crimson. 
It's ruining me,
I can't fall in love.

A Busy Bee

A busy bee browses the lavender bush
Collecting sweet nectar no doubt
Visits loads of blue flowers
Goes on round about.

Some distance away tall buddleia blooms. 
Its long purple blossoms in spikes
The butterflies love it and never give up
Its nectar is vital for life.

The soil underneath is full of life too
Worms, woodlice, and beetles and plenty of bugs.
Some nice things, some not so
No-one ever likes slugs.

Oh thank you, yes, thank you, God, your precious plan,
No part independent though millions of bits 
Each needing some others, some sharing of life
Each particle useless if just hit-or-miss.

Patience

Patience teaches us to wait;  
Not everything in life happens as desired;  
Some moments arrive in subtle fragments.  

Patience encourages us to find an opening in the inky window;  
The meadow is lush and full of life;  
The doorway lies in the eyes through the mind.

Patience serves as the ladder to the sky;  
We ascend higher as we steadily climb;  
Our feet are strengthened by hope.  

Patience is the light that shines through the twilight tunnel,  
Emerging from obscurity,  
Fighting against the tendrils of night.  

Patience is the game;  
Sturdy feet and agile hands are not enough;  
An unclouded mind is the fulcrum of balance.  

Patience heralds glory;  
Yesterday becomes part of the story;  
Today is the light we perceive.  

Patience composes the songs;  
Hope adds the melody;  
Together, they walk hand in hand.


August 5, 2025.

A danish mermaid

The Danish Mermaid 
 
The famous mermaid of Denmark we know well 
a grey figure, the color of seals with breasts 
That was not seen as a threat to anyone's sensibility  
I have described the old mermaid, I didn't know
There was a new one, whose large, sexy **** had 
caused uproar among the female population in
the democratic kingdom of Denmark 
The spokesperson for women claims that women 
do not look that voluptuous and want the statue 
removed from public display, shielded from eyes 
of lust of men who know what, 22 years old
looks like in  hushed evening light
The women of power who run the charming land
have prudish tendencies and will not upset their
sisters showing what a young woman looks like
sexy and full of life

MY OLD NEIGHBORHOOD

MY OLD NEIGHBORHOOD
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
crackerbox houses
     a house a plumber 
          could afford, 
               barely.
I recall the pecan tree, 
     remembering
          how I spent many afternoons
               writing stories and poems under its branches.
the street was once charged with life~
     kids walking to and from school,
           playing kick-the-can, hide ‘n seek, 
              hopscotch, and red rover. 
streetlights told us
     it was time to go home. 
but the years brought change
     what was once full of life
          is now silent. 

Everyone has moved on.

But in my mind’s eye, I can still see
     the cracks in the sidewalk,
          the rustling of the pecan tree, 
               the setting sun while drinking iced tea on the front porch,
                    and smelling dinner cooking as it wafted through the open windows. 
*Note: This poem was originally published at Poetry Soup, June 2025, and Lucky Jefferson Literary Magazine, July 2025.

African Rain

It falls with grace.
Metallic bawls hail the strength of zinc roofs.
At the mercy of the thatch,
Drops drip from needle points of skeletal
Palm fronds.
Particles of rain descend on thresholds
Among dewed terrains.
The petrichor befriends the atmosphere,
Caressing limpid warmth with floating cold.
Lightning, a white dancing Anaconda, races with speed,
Filling the tenebrous plains with lights of hope.
Troubled skies ululate through the power of thunder.
I always recline on that liquid voice!
Rainmakers cream their palms
And roast fresh leaves of
Epochal petals
Plucked from somnolent trees.
Bubbles, green and full of life, puke,
Filling up the mouths of burning woods.
Grey darkness suggests the pleasant wars of
May through October,
When distant wayward drops
Trickle before the deafening deluge.
I hail the blandishments of July
For the society of fattened yams and the
Worthy tendrils —festooned confetti of ceremonial
Harvests.
Droughts yawn in vain when the attitude of
Wet seasons befriends the skies,
Yielding fecund grimes that grace the soil.

TRUST IN HIM-

TRUST IN HIM

Elohim
firm belief
I will trust in Him
My God reliable fulfilling meaning full of life
My God is true, I trust in Him
Strength
He's real, truth he's real soul real
And He's purposeful Trust I in Him
Reliable
He's truth confident
Depend enable trust in Him
Keeper of His promises
He's a bold confident God
Sured security trust in Him
Swollen eyes, clouded mind
It's OK to cry, that's why you're given tears
My God reliable fulfilling meaning full of life
My God is true, I trust in Him
Strength
He's real, truth he's real soul real
And He's purposeful Trust I in Him
Reliable
He's truth confident
Dependenable trust in Him
Keeper of His promises
He's a bold confident God
Sured security trust in Him
Swollen eyes, clouded mind
It's OK to cry, that's why you're given tears

7/5/25
Written words & music by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
From “I CRY OUT TO YOU”

Gairjeen

It's the place called peace
a canopy of green
from mans un-baring sun
there no fear....here.

Its the place l close my eyes
and l just....listen
its a place to go to
and let the rain on leaves 
just ...glisten

chorus 

its full of senses
its full  of life
so l'll sit a while
and let it talk.

Its a place that has much to say
l'll softly walk its way
emerald green reflected eyes
his fallen one, i'm hidden....from his lies

 so lets stay a while
lets play like the child
his  promised harmony, no wars,
.....just mild

A place of peace
it's love will never cease
a place ....so peaceful
sit back, its time to mull

come with me, come and .... see
it's really not that far
bathe in its love
when then he says,
enough.... enough.

chorus

its full of senses, its full of life
l'll sit a while
and let it talk.

Bridge

come with me
open eyes and ..see
it's gar-jeen
and
its emerald green

Gairdin is Gaelic for Garden
pronounced..gar-jeen or gairjeen or gawr-jeen

Heavy heart

I’m so tired of goodbyes and I dread those new hellos
I dread those new hellos because I can’t take another goodbye
So I guess I’ll just stick to what I’m used to
I try looking on the brighter side but somehow those energy suckers just come around and leave me less than full of life
You get judged when you’re rich and you get judged when you’re pour
I want to do better for my life 
I’m not staying broke my entire life
I’m judged for not having kids but if I have them with the wrong person I’ll be judged even more
I look around waiting for the hard work to pay off
I get tired but I take no days off
Hands in my pocket
Walking around with a heavy heart 
Deep inside I’m falling apart and nobody knows
Deep inside I scream I just want the success to come already
I want to be better 
I think about my life on a daily
Carrying these heavy heart around keeps my mind going like crazy

CRAYON BOX DIVINE DREAMS

My crayon box is filled with dreams’ color
Of joyfulness tints and happiness’ hues
Brightened by thanksgiving and praises ardor
Midst gold of gladness, devoid of sad blues.

Oh, there is green, full of life… healthy well
From God’s grace, so glowing, no one can hide
Along red with pink for compassion-swell
With shining yellow of worshipful tide.

Yes, courageous orange rules over pain
Defying horrors of blackness and fright
As brave purple soars with azure faith’s gain
Trusting the Lord* toward heavenly white.

Glad am I for crayon box dreams indeed
Colored by the Almighty’s gracious deed.

*Psalms 112:7 He shall not be afraid of evil tidings: his heart is fixed, trusting in the LORD.

June 3, 2025
1st place, "The Sonnet on Crayon Box Dreams" Sonnet Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Miranda Hawley; judged on 6/12/2025

The Tree

Some see your for your beauty
But I only see the pain
No one at all can see inside
Life travels on just like a train
So strong you are, so full of life
But there's something they can't know
Deep inside the roots, a ghost
through each season darkness grows

A face so unforgiving
guilt builds just like a trap
It sucks you in, you can't escape
When will the branch just snap

Some see you for your flowers
But I only see the knots
You can't ignore the twisted roots
the silent struggle as they rot
Buried deep for all to see
Right there you stand so tall
But you can only take so much
One day, you too shall fall

Bread Crumbs

Many versions of me appear everyday,
I'm living several realities this way.
There are many parts that want to play,
A galaxy full of life feels what I say.
Staying connected by design,
Leaving Divine dreams behind.
Little bread crumbs for me to find,
A complex story time has defined.
A mansion of rooms within my mind,
Everyday a new reality i designed.
Aligned with the Divine I climb,
A ladder of lessons evolving me.
Revolving around seeing what's to be,
Carrying me through eternity.
It's energy I see in everything,
Vibrating at its own frequency.
Many versions await discovery,
Some are in recovery.
So many Me's I get to play,
Waking up different everyday.
Yesterdays shadow may affect me today,
Just another version I get to play.
Aware of my present creating the way,
Being the best version of the part I play.

Abandoned, Not Broken

a house abandoned
walls caved in
the windows no panes
and the floors creek
yet still a spark of beauty
flawed and few
nothing inbetween 
i stay reflecting on the past…
it used to be thriving
full of life
kids playing, people residing 
the memories the walls hold
indents of several souls
the history of not one but two,
i take a step back
a dark shadow sweeps through 
i slowly watch the rug unroll
its clearer now,
a story unfolds
the faint echo of screaming 
and the vision of blood shot eyes gleaming
tear stained curtains rip off the wall
the cracks aren’t just age,
they’re scars, i withdrawal 
the hands of man destroyed her beauty
left her falling apart, while neglecting his duty’s 
i can’t help but think
she’s stayed so strong throughout the years
still standing tall despite hers scars and constant fear
but,
she’s abandoned now, all withered and torn
at the hands of a man she once adorned
but beneath the surface her foundation stayed strong 
it’s the beauty within that’s made her last this long.

To my envy the trees told me

Flammable I’m nor dry tinder,
Scare me nor threaten of lightning,
Past autumn and chilly winter,
I look forward to the next spring.

I’m already left with few leaves,
Let worst of autumn’s fall arrive,
Go not by my dry woody frame,
The tree in me is all alive.

What if covered I’m with this frost, 
Just around the corner is sun, 
I see life well past all this change, 
Every season to me is fun.  

A meditating sage, no arid stem,
You had better go not by my lean frame. 
__________________________
Sonnet |01. 04.2025| tree, Nature, autumn, spring
Note: Many trees in India experience autumn and spring more than once a year. I watched two Peepal trees and one Neem in front of my house shedding leaves in just a few days and again acquiring them equally fast-- from a skeleton wooden frame to a tree with shimmering tender, light-coloured leaves in sun. A tree is always alive, full of life, no matter how it might appear. Looking at it and marvelling of its love of life, to an aging old man, in no mean envy, this sonnet happened.

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