Guardians Poems - Poems about Guardians

With healing hands and hearts so bright, They stand for us in darkest night. Through trials fierce and battles long, Their courage sings a steadfast song. In sterile halls where pain resides, They fight for life on shifting tides. Through weary eyes and sleepless calls, They answer when the helpless falls. A stethoscope, their mighty sword, A voice of hope, their true reward. They mend...

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May loved her bedspread, vintage, fifty’s, yellow chenille Worn in many places, but it still had a magical feel She felt the presence of the former owner of the spread too An elderly lady who had lived to the ripe age of one hundred and two A guardian who advised May while she dreamed and slept Wish my own children...

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They live in a world of illusions Gripping onto their beliefs Weaving a web of lies Steering their journey through the tide Are guardians of their pride Masses who follow their rules Followers of the deceitful fib Enjoy a life of ease The ones who supply them With their fabricated visions Shape their lives with lead Are masters of this creed But those who dare to speak...

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In the quiet murmur of light, before the world shakes the sleep from its eyes, a symphony of shadows awakens, dancing among the faded echoes of night. Silent roads stretch their weary backs, bearing the weight of dreams and forgotten footsteps, while trees, ancient guardians of stillness, weave their fingers through the soft breath of a rising sun. Birdsong splashes in the crisp...

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Morning brings many forms Of which we see so few They're wherever we go In ev'rything we do Disappearing quickly Each time we turn around They were born for travel And never to be found Some will call them angels Or the ghosts from the past Either way they're revered For their domain is vast They be the guardians Of life, of heart, and soul Far beyond what we...

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Today may we all be blessed to be guardians of angels May we listen and heed the prayer each angel brings with him or her as their life begins to unfurl: My journey has just begun protect me and guide me so that I will know all the beauty in the world ...

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The older I grow…the longer I’m on this spot I think our understanding about guardian angels needs to be re-thought. We tend to think of our guardian angels as sprits who, without making a fuss, are always somewhere nearby…protecting…looking after us. What if…with the birth every child parents have happily awaited… from inside the mother’s womb…an angel is created? What...

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In the bus's hollow, no child left astray, Each corner and crevice, we'll diligently assay. With vigilant eyes, we'll search every space, Ensuring no child's left in a lonely place. In our watchful embrace, their safety we'll uphold, No child forgotten, no story left untold. (Note: The poem is written in the style of an Italian sonnet) By- Moonlit Whisper...

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The master and wife Came to disciples who pass, The debacles of life....

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I latest piece is too long the poem section - so it's in "Short Stories." It's called "the rum." It's about growing up (I suppose). I could shorten it - but why? *shrug* Here's the link: https://www.poetrysoup.com/short_stories/the_rum_10670 I hope you like it!...

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You came and faded in the rising sun like snow But left my heart a glow Your smile was ever golden and pure Like the heart of your nurture You shed tears so my hopes and dreams will show Even though the wheel of fate was slow You poured your sweat and blood on loam So this young soul...

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I heard the promise of freedom, Became an eager volunteer, Welcomed you to my country When you arrived here. Now, my world is in ashes. My life in despair I worked in your cause But you just don’t care. You came here as liberators Stayed here for twenty years Then like all schoolyard bullies Upped sticks and disappeared. A chaotic withdrawal But that’s what...

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I have another piece that's too long for the poetry section - so it's in "Short Stories." It's called "arguments" - about my summer vacation between freshman & sophomore year (at university). I know I could take things out - to make the piece shorter and fit here - but then it's not what I wanted to...

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there were four of us sitting there around the bonfire when the night began thunder from a storm that doesn't come scratch what you see from the sky sultry woodsy air she hides in a hut or cave our prey is stealthy and devilish but our eyes are red when lit by fire we are the last guardians and we thought we were prepared... laughter echoes...

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Poring over the holy books Hoary heads, stroking their beards Calibrating ancient laws for 2022 Eschewing payment, revered volunteers...

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