Teresa Poems - Poems about Teresa

At twenty weeks they saw the light— two daughters Esme Teresa and Elle Norma wombed in delight— before the room ...

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Hello my little friend We meet once again Go away, leave me alone But I'm the only one that's always home That may be so, but I know that's not true This can't be it, it can't just be you Well I'm always here when your feeling down Especially when I see you, everytime you frown That's not ok,...

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Devoted and loyal to the service of her God all of her life...

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Sensitive skin Scraped by sensitive information If I don't know who I am, then what will I tell everyone? A scuba diver without his mask is just a body in water A father without a child is just a stranger A lion's head on the wall is a symbol of wealth, Not strength If I don't know...

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The sweetest, most special thing I've ever heard-- (though as a kid, Mother Teresa thought it absurd) Was her mother's primping before her father returned Every work day evening, after their bread was earned She always wanted to welcome him home with love & their shared mission was to lead their kids Above...

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Pretty Teresa In the dim lit room sat an old geezer Waiting patiently for the stripteaser He waited in vain For to his disdain Came along songstress pretty Teresa. 1st April 2021...

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Mary Teresa from remote Albania all the way came as a young girl to India to permanently stay. By chosen profession a passionate teacher unflawed, destiny drove her to become a benign missionary of God. Home she brought the sick and the destitute, who got new lives under her divine care absolute. For human service her kind heart did whatever it...

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Mary Teresa of Albania became Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Overcoming many ups and downs on the pious path she set. Tormented by the agony of the poor and the destitute Home she brought them to where they should be as she Experienced the divinity of call of compassion from within, Resonating as the voice of God in the dark night...

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I am not a fan Nor am I a voter I am just a poet Definitely not a quitter. You can say I am creative But I am not an activist Words are my calling There is something about poems That I need to be reporting. Journalism is not my profession I am a writer A story teller A humanitarian Politics is not my forte But...

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Time’s a jet plane when you’re young. You go to school get a good job marry someone nice and have a family if that’s your calling. Then the kids grow up and move out and things start falling apart even if you have a pension and many now won’t. Poor health sneaks in like a submarine and in time you forget to take your pills so...

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Swarms of flies infest teary eyes, the untouchables have no worth. And live and die in the gutters, shunned by society since birth. The sick occupy the shadows, where death entombs these castaways. For faceless crowds take no notice, how the lowest-caste end their days. A woman with a giant heart felt India's poor were in pain. And brought them medicine and hope to shelter...

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This morning the calling bell rang just at Five, I thought it was the paper vendor Sun was yet to spread its golden impact His time was at six, who was the caller A soft violin tune of sweet ghazal Sweetened the small space I was seated in From my room the clouds looked like cathedral The air outside seemed scented and...

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Mother Teresa, I salute thee! Thou art,a pious soul and Indeed God's chosen messenger ...

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Well and if I ever had a friend I know I have a friend in Teresa... She never lets me down... It’s good to know whenever I need her She never hard to Be found... Well and I swear she must be An angel if there ever was one A light in the dark and 100% Love...she whispers words of Encouragement and never Judges me even...

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There was a young girl named Teresa Who dressed up like the Mona Lisa She looked like a queen Her second name was green And Oh’ how I loved to tease her © Copyright KC.Leake 15th April 2015 All Rights Reserved...

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