Loyalty is not handed out, it is earned
So is trust, not given, done hard work
You may obey because of the salary
You may be good because of duality
Service is reciprocated due to contract
Other than that mimicry is a farce
But there is some kind beyond the act
Deeper than what you think and see
The heart sees it all from emotion view
Like passion that medicate to hurting
Touch the pain that solace loneliness
Mouth that talk wisdom so to speak
Hands that heals a worn out physique
Service beyond what is unexpected
All time free, on call or on busy body
Look beyond race or status but help
Give more than pocket, walk him a mile
Share wealth, sacrifice health for other
Life is enough for comfort, least be rich
Not for own but life after most rewarding
When books where open your record show
Humble assurance, your eternity ensured
One day is happiness for hard worker zeal
A rest is a content to a smile forever gain.
It is often that I feel that I am a different person
in all of the roles that I play in life
I am a hard worker in which I am paid to help people
I am a volunteer in many different situations
Being a wife and mother is probably the role
in which I find the most joy, although it also comes
with crushing pain from the recent loss of one
of my beloved sons from mental illness
So now, I am figuring out that being a mother
to one is different than being a mother to two
Writing poetry has given me a way to process
my grief by writing about it and being a writer
has become more important to me recently
I am also a friend, sister, aunt, and co-worker
Each role I play is a little different from the others
and there are times that I feel like a different person
in my many different roles, but overall,
the roles I play make up the person that I am
and most of all, that person is kind and caring
Tortoise looked, couldn't see, hare disappeared.
Only him, tortoise win, hare reappeared.
the sportsmanship that
honesty competes often
eludes the cheaters
The Word of Life is joy everlasting.
In the game of life, we win, lose, and die,
patterns reasoning; be glad we're living.
Living for the trice, losers don't comply,
trifles our distractions are ankle-deep.
Count on time won't add up you'll meet Grim Reap.
Speed misjudged its breaks; odds knew--widow's mite.
Live yond your means, who are your family.
A hard worker, big spender, works in spite,
Jones styles for their smiles, save one--their envy.
Live simple, live smart unlike ducks and drakes,
odds knew--widow's mite; speed misjudged its breaks.
The hare expected to win and the tortoise knew he would lose--too much and too little of themselves, until fate intervened.
One sat under the apple tree until an apple fell on its head, and the other was on top of that tree, simply going out on a limb.
L-Speed misjudged its breaks; odds knew--widow's mite.-a
E-Live yond your means, who are your family.-b
T-A hard worker, big spender, works in spite,-a
T-Jones styles for their smiles save one--their envy.b
E-Live simple, live smart unlike ducks and drakes,-c
R-odds knew--widow's mite; speed misjudged its breaks.-c
Being hard worker
Is a motor that pushes
You at bull worker.
Dippers, drinkers, smokers, sippers.
There was always bottle or can-openers
Because mom was a Coca-Cola lady.
She would have a Coke daily.
Grandma was a coffee lover
of one brand or another.
Coffee made her a thinker.
Daddy was a very hard worker
And a heavy cigarette smoker.
But also, a weekend whisky drinker.
He was certainly a Camel man,
But I don't remember the whisky brand.
I watched Grandma slowly sip from her cup.
Every morning, the hot coffee picked her up.
Most often, she would sip from the saucer.
And as she sipped, it was a joy to watch her.
He's a hard worker,
Charged, Oh! Heavenly laden,
Of stick and broom.
He was my dad but his life came to an end.
He died and I would never see him again.
He perished after months of receiving chemotherapy.
He had Leukemia and is buried in Sneedville, Tennessee.
He was a hard worker and he worked hard for many years.
Cancer made him become ill and he died just like I feared.
He died ten years ago today on the 13th of July.
It is always sad and tragic when a parent dies.
[Dedicated to Charles F. Johnson (1947-2013) who died ten years ago today on July 13, 2013]
Systematic life will lead to success
Certain rules we must strictly follow
Proper discipline, we must possess
Real enthusiasm must finely flow
Cheerful approach leads to joy
Perfect planning brings progress
Our skill, we must wisely deploy
Our efforts must be damn vigorous
We must utilize every opportunity
Taking best efforts with confidence
By functioning with real creativity
We must pray to the Providence
We must not remain lethargic
All possible steps, we must take
To laziness, we must be allergic
Honest attempts, we must make
A hard-worker will ultimately win
As his success is by God assured
Now itself if one decides to begin
All setbacks will be superbly cured.
Cinderella was not difficult to please.
Tired from her back-to-back chores, she needed no bed.
She could use a bit of straw for a pillow.
Or sleep without anything under her head.
Her loveliness caused jealous feelings.
Without makeup or fancy frocks, she was still the pretty one.
Her stepsisters had smack talk in their hearts.
They could not stop speaking meanness about her.
Cinderella did not concern herself with this frivolity.
She was a hard-worker who did what she had to do.
Living with these diabolical creatures until she turned eighteen.
“Take us with you!” urged the mice. They knew the hearts of the others.
Over the past feel not guilty,
Though forgetting is a difficulty,
God might have levied a penalty,
Maybe no rewards despite loyalty,
As every loss is a bitter liability,
Place them before the Almighty,
Take an oath to work with sincerity,
Thank the Lord for His generosity,
Every soul has a God-given duty,
Which must be done with morality,
God will test heart's purity,
A hard-worker losing is a rarity,
As life is given no perpetuity,
Quickly discharge every activity,
Fame alone enjoys immortality!
Attitude, is of an enduring and an uplifting person
Gratitude, to give thanks and admiration for all those who do write
Respect, giving it for all of the greatest of the writers before
Excellence, is for all the high-level writes that he or she do put on page
Attributes, of a skilled sculpturer and an artist
Tenaciousness, of a cheetah or lion running for a meal
Perseverance, in thoughts and hard worker in deeds
Observance, to the rules, no copying of anyone leads
Elementary, for to be simple and clear, yet of the highest complexity
Total, of potential reached and enrichment of all their readers’ needs
Poem to my dad:
You gave.
And provided.
There sure was love in the home.
Yes, and honesty.
Your values you taught me, will linger on.
Thank you.
52 years of knowing you.
Been an incredible journey.
I will miss your humor.
Along with your astute insight.
How will I go on?
Very carefully.
I'm grateful for you being my dad.
I surely mean that.
I will "keep my wits about me!"
Like you always told me.
No, this isn't the end.
Your soul has journeyed on, is all.
I love you!
Can't wait to join you in Heaven one day.
I’ve always been a hard worker,
I wonder how often I overdo it.
Thinking big and dreaming large,
It’s my life and I’m taking charge.
The only people in life to succeed,
Are the ones who dare to dream.
Believing in myself is the first step,
However, doing it is another step.
Nothing anyone’s working towards,
Is obtainable by gripping the floor.
Every goal in life is obtainable,
Whether it’s personal or vocational.
Must be willing to engage faith,
No matter the time of the day.
Believe in myself and in my heart,
I’m stretching out and touching stars.
The definitive nice guy and so friendly;
Slow to burn, he coasts life easily.
A true gentleman of the first order;
And free as bluebirds on the Spanish border!
He's my brother; I have no other;
First sunbeam of my mother.
A natural born comedian to be exact,
Though not many are aware of that fact.
Long ago, as Superman, he held me spellbound;
Flew out the window and hit the ground.
Luckily he fell from the first floor;
But Mama ran panicked out the door.
Sunny days with cousins and off to the show;
The early, early days-how late did they go?
The St. Louis days, with Mary Jean and Ardell;
And the ringing of our old school bell?
Steve's a hard worker, and calm as peace.
Wildflowers radiate life and increase;
After harsh winter comes a regeneration;
Steve was the first of our generation.
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