Protectors Poems - Poems about Protectors

Be careful what you wish for me... When you're wishing for my downfall You're already down below me Believe it or not, but you will surely be I've Never lost to any opposition Back to sender my shield Thanks to my guidance and protectors for steadily giving me a remedy and medicine. What do you do with others...

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Pillow Protectors For all my pillow protectors’ (the euro ones only) arrogance they are, in their core, humilitists. ...

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I wondered about the trumpeters ear Pondered if their eustachian tube always was clear For blowing with force is a trusty fix I googled it but the fix has a glitch Too much pressure causes damage They love to trumpet so they manage Poor trumpeters with their damaged hearing Shows how we perpetuate sometimes what we're fearing We see too much pressure...

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To the social worker, fierce and bold, a shield against the night, Who fights for children, lost and cold, yet may not see the foster system's plight. Thank you. Your unwavering stance is a beacon in the dark. To the teacher, ever watchful, a haven built with love and care, Who nurtures minds, potentially hatch-less, yet may not grasp...

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gloves are bodyguards that guard the skin against scratch ~ like shield against itch January 16, 2023 Of What Use Are Gloves To Fingers That Only Understand Mittens Poetry Contest Sponsored by: John Lawless...

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Our true treasures Bless be His Holy name Our love remains Elegance of love design Echoed so clearly within our minds Born of the Spirit Our trains are quite exquisite We reach far and near Yet You are here I thank you Lord, for your peace Relief Inspiring Covering Snowy summets This love you gave it  Jesus Christ Blessed Creator of life Our paper planes went way up high  To catch your tears...

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He locked the doors and shuttered the windows, it came in through the roof, or down the chimney, he wasn't sure. All he knew was his demons had found him, alone and vulnerable. No strength could fight them, no words could discourage. He was at their mercy. They moved quickly, surrounding the little girl he had stolen, attacking him on every front, at every turn. He...

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Days filled of games, good thoughts, and silliness When cookies and recess were the ultimate bliss For the most part, my childhood was simply just this Imagination was key, Smiles and giggles a must Popping balloons just to see them bust Peanut Butter, grape jelly, preferably no crust Sibling rivalries, I’m not touching you, a daily event Piggy banks had me saving...

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All she really wanted to do was to live her life the way she wanted to live, not the way the protectors thought she should. She wanted to be set free from the bonds that bound her to the ground. Freedom is what she wanted to soar like an eagle, to explore the world outside of her...

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Les Protecteurs – Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal’s “The Protectors” by T. Wignesan (Note: Oodgeroo never claimed to write poetry à la manière des poètes occidentaux; she said - without mincing words – her lines were sheer ‘propaganda’. Others thought otherwise: Judith Wright, a part-time reader for the then newly-founded Jacaranda Press and the young publisher Brian Coulson...

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Our protectors from the storm. Come shed a tear, for our fallen sons, Our friends, our children, our brothers in arms. Our army of, deceased heroes, Our protectors in the storm. Our love, our life, our hope and future, Has been washed away; For what reason we cannot decipher. But we trust in the Lord, to take care of them all; The one’s...

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Archers in the cold rain Holding their bows steady Ready to strike at will Warriors, the sturdiest Women of holy peace Protecting the innocent Seen in the skies today Watching over the pure Keeping the weak safe Archers of light and hope Women warriors of heart Timeless beings secured Russell Sivey...

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Caring Over People...

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Long hair and flowers covered in expectations of the end of war. The world is lost, so I think. Traveling to far away destinations children go, fighting battles, ensuring our being. Smoke and mirrors tell us the story. Lives are lost, as children play, and so we stay focused and true, only time will tell us who is next. Is it me? Is it you? Shallow...

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Long hair and flowers covered in expectations of the end of war. The world is lost, so I think. Traveling to far away destinations children go, fighting battles, ensuring our being. Smoke and mirrors tell us the story. Lives are lost, as children play, and so we stay focused and true, only time will tell us who is next. Is it me? Is it you? Shallow...

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