Shielding Poems | Examples

With a Gentle Hand-Mystic

There could never be a more gentle hand
than that of a mother and her loving touch.
The emotional bond takes place, unplanned
by the one who loves her child so much.

Even months before her babe is due to be born,
her shielding hands can often be found
on her tummy, protecting the child she's sworn
to keep healthy inside of her, safe and sound.

When she hears the wail of its first cry,
her gentle hand will count toes and fingers.
Her tears will then fall, and she'd heave a sigh
while on her infant, the mother's sight lingers.

With comforting hands, she will offer healing
when her toddler falls while learning to walk.
Applauding hands when proud and revealing
her pleasure at the first words her child will talk.

Soothing hands, she has through childhood days.
Year after year, a mother's story will unfold.
Tender hands showing love and affection ~ always
in her heart, a child is a treasure, no matter how old.

No single tear is for you

Eyebags forming. 
Dilated pupils.
The one starting pulling away. 
Leg-crossed and the hand supporting the chin.
The right arm falls in imbalance. 
Leg does not stop moving back and forth. 

So quick turning excitement into torture.

Searching the whole river in the eyes
was reached. 

Now it‘s just a motionless navy blue.
Welcoming the seabird to stop and scream for him. 
Came near attacking and steal my lovely hat. 
Even my tears have a better taste.

Typical blue eyes did not respond much.
What have my pupils just read?
Am I yearning too much? 

Is he one of the others or the man? 
My bebi how I call them? 

The wave shall again come and drown me.
Even though no one pulled me in the boat.

My lookalike man begged me.
But I refused.
His, my hat, falling in on my face gently like a feather.
Shielding my eyes from witnessing incoming danger.
The look with such sincerity.
He would turn it into a flirt.
But him, like he is meeting his final farewell.
A complete stranger.
With the same survival instinct like me.

Clinging To My Brow

Veiled by clever branches, limbs
silken strands, protecting me
from the eyes who’re like pseudonyms
beckoning with iris’ clever and wild

secreted beneath gossamers, flowing
in whispers of hope for the morn
risking each breathless moment, unknowing
what to expect with the journey’s quest

shrouded by the strands, elusive
like the moment when I knew true pain
beyond the shadows, so abusive
feeling the fears who reach my soul

concealed from a world who hurries
never allowing my heart to heal
these wisps of melancholic flurries
remember locks who write the songs

unseen by those who might discourage me
each curl, each tress, each quiet tuft
silences the fears who seem to guarantee
expressing myself means letting go 

hidden by the mane who drifts, curving
sinuous and graceful, a layer of shelter
always protecting and preserving
so I have refuge, a haven, a secure home

unseen, my eyes hide beneath the maze
a mane of defense, shielding me from foes
those who might not understand my gaze
only see the pain and never what I gain

Defense Mechanism

Wall goes quickly up,
Shielding fragile inner self,
Safety sought within.

©bfa042925

Flip or Flop

if you see me sitting around
with my head tilted down
face wrinkled in a frown
hands shielding my face

just trying to figure out
if I can survive in this place
if I can finish this race

I know. I got it
change will come
and change will go

for better or worse
we won’t know 
until we’ll either
suffer through hell 
or find Heaven’s grace 

if we’re to be celebrated 
as conquering heroes
or banned in disgrace

The true story
will not be told
until those very last
words unfold
and in the end
they are rejected
or embraced

Living

We live in time,  
We coexist with the unseen,  
Or rather, the unseen coexists with us,
We are on a journey guided by our souls.  

Time nurtures us.  
We blossom, and at times we struggle with our existence.  
We incorporate the grafted pieces,  
Shielding the light of our souls.  

We live to fight,  
Pulling ourselves from the clutches of darkness.  
We journey toward redemption,  
Learning from our rises and falls.  

Nature speaks to us;  
It wants to aid us in discovering ourselves.  
It seeks to assist us recover,
Living is a gift unwrapped by time.


April 22, 2025.

A Prince Forever

To the world, he may just be a man,
Chasing dreams, with calloused hands.
But to her, he's the little boy still,
With scraped knees and a stubborn will.

She watched him stumble, watched him grow,
Held his fears she'd never show.
In her arms, he found his start—
A throne carved gently in her heart.

His crown? Not gold, but strands of hair
She kissed each night with whispered prayer.
His kingdom? Just her open arms,
Shielding him from life’s alarms.

Through stormy days and silent cries,
She saw the world within his eyes.
When the world was cold and far too wide,
He found warmth where her love would reside.

Now he's grown, with battles to fight,
But in her dreams, he sleeps each night.
Still the prince in every rhyme,
Unaged by wounds, untouched by time.

So call him strong, call him wise,
But she still sees him through mother’s eyes—
A boy with laughter on his face,
Who gave her heart its softest place.

something old, something new

The US tariffs declares the plot is lost
shielding the tired and old, from the new kid on the block.
Focusing on the past admits failure to compete
with others on a level playing field.
It says we've lost all
hope in our future innovation
and bright sparks in our populace
to lead us to our prosperity!

Dear Fear

Dear Fear,
I remember the first time you were here.
First day of my new school, my grandma warned me…,
It’s a bad world, my girl, that won’t like you to be free.
Remember these words, they will protect you for life.
I thought she was shielding me,
but she was just preparing me to be someone’s wife.
Dear Fear, I see you’ve been fooling me since then,
keeping me from raising my voice,
scaring me with terrible whispers, again and again.
You had my grandma’s face ,
but there was something off with your voice.
I noticed...
but I was conditioned that way. I had no choice.
But things are different now, you see,
I’ve decided to be the real me.
Things were much better when you weren’t here.
Dear Fear, it’s clear...
you are not welcome anywhere near.
I’m not going to pass you on to the next generation,
Give me back the reins you placed on my imagination.
Dear Fear, you’ve done enough,
You’ve never been a friend,
So I’m writing this letter to inform you...
for you, THIS IS THE END.

True Beauty, Indeed, To The Number-Theorists

True beauty, indeed (to the number-theorists),
     reveals the distribution of the primes.
Beauty, too, is courage, the defiant fists
     of a defender that we praise in rhymes.

     Beauty are oaths, that Prince Hector all times  
keeps shielding city, child, and princess bride;  
     or King Priam's grace for thoughtless Paris's crimes,
rather than wrath for his treach'rous regnocide.

What beauty is not, is Euclid mortified,
     if Riemann's Hypothesis's not in sight,
or the Zeta function's proof verified
     (for the spread of primes) gives zero insight.

However, beauty is what frames your face:
which ev'n shames Helen of the Trojan race!

When Time Slips Away

I’m always too late,
When I have to say something important,
When I have to keep a promise,
When I have to call out to her,
When I have to bring her back—
I’m always too late.

In the changing dawn of seasons,
When my heart needs to hold on,
When I have to remember someone,
When I need to forget someone—
I’m always too late.

Before saving someone from death,
Or shielding them from sorrow,
When I need to tell the truth—
That reality was something else entirely—
I’m always too late.

I thought I knew what love was

I used to think that love meant being a protector,
A shield against the world, both fierce and colder,
To guard you from the storms, the cuts, the tears,
To keep you from the weight of all my silent fears.

I thought that love was standing in the way,
A wall between you and the world’s harsh sway,
That my strength would lift the burden from your heart,
And keep you safe, from every tear, from every part.

But now I see, in quiet, painful light,
That in my grasping to shield you from the fight,
I built a cage around us both, unseen,
Hiding truths that should have lived between.

I thought I was protecting you from pain,
But in my silence, I invited strain.
Not shielding you, but keeping you away
From knowing what I’d carried every day.

Love isn’t just a fortress, cold and tall,
But letting you in, to feel, to see it all.
I see now: true love isn’t just to fight,
But to stand together, through the dark and light.

Untamed Reflections

It gets too much
I hold back, shielding you from parts of me
you should never have to fear.
Some truths, I keep locked away,
deeming them unnecessary for you to bear.

Yet, you control me
mind, heart, and the depths of my soul.
My intelligence does not intimidate you,
nor do you come as a red-eyed agent of corruption.
You found me on this journey of reflection,
a presence I never sought, yet cannot deny.

I protect you, keep you covered
look into my eyes as you take my soul.
You already know what you want,
you already know what is.
Take me there.
The rage lies in wait, tempered, but never tamed.

A Father's pleading

By mystic river's waters,
Shielding mountains, illuminating sun,
With clear jade, embrace unintentional mistakes.
Within five kowtow, seeking heavenly 
Kindness beneath.

Just like this, Fuqin kowtow five times to,
'Mountain outside the family' and 'Dragon king'
To embrace the 'iron flower', protect her
And let drop of water washes away the mistake.
                                                                                                 ~Byeol

__________________________________________________________________________________________ 
 Fuqin: father
Mountain outside family: in-laws
Dragon King: daughter husband 
Iron flower: daughter 
Let drop of water washes away mistake: forgive unintentional mistakes 

Explanation: this poem highlights the cultural and historical context of many Asian countries 
Where in-laws family are revered as equivalent to or given as much respect like dieties.
Just as people bow 5 time to river, mountain and sun to seek protection and forgiveness for unintentional mistakes,the father bows 5 time to in-laws and husband. This gesture show the immense respect required of bride family towards groom family in historic times.

Shielding Him

I look into his baby blue eyes,
A young man now standing before me.
My heart sees a little boy
To protect.

Shielding him from the cross I carry,
The pain of losing one of my babies,
Living my remaining days
In honour of those left behind.

Shielding him,
Protecting him
From life’s unexpected twist of fate.

Shielding him,
Like a mama bear,
Fiercely holding on.

Pointing to the rainbows,
To the pot of gold.

Shielding him
With love.

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