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Best Poems Written by Julia A. Keirns

Below are the all-time best Julia A. Keirns poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Julia A. Keirns Poem

The Old Red Barn

The loud roar thundered in my ears.
Never had such a large shovel ripped at my heart as this one did.
I tip-toed through the doors of the old red barn so as not to disturb the memories.
My mind raced with times of childhood antics, happiness, and innocence. 
And dad.
I was always happiest out in the barn with dad.
But now,
I watched this large thundering shovel tear down the walls
and rip the old red barn apart.
It seemed as though so many happy memories too were ripped and torn apart as well,
and it left sadness.
Sad. 
I felt sad.
For now, the barn was gone, like dad.
Curious.
The pain is supposed to eventually go away when someone dies.
But, as I watched the old red barn fall down and die, 
I cried.
And I remembered dad.

Details | Julia A. Keirns Poem

Freedom Flag

The red, white and blue flapped in the wind
He looked up through tears as he lay on the ground.
It was torn from the battle, his mate lay dead
In the midst of the mud and the blood all around.

The battle was done, they had achieved their goal
And the flag stood firm at the top of the mound.
Ears ringing from bullets whizzing past in the air
But the deafness could not silence the pounding sound.

He thought of the world waiting for him back home
As his heartbeat slowed and calmed from the storm.
It hurt when he moved so he laid back down 
And stared at the flag with the smoke all around.

The red and the white and the stars so clear
Had he really been fighting here more than a year?
He was tired and worn, he felt cold in the night
In the silence and darkness he relived the fight.

No glory he found in killing fellow men
Over what should be righteous to all in the end.
The river of red flowed thick to his hand
And the warmth of it comforted the war torn man.

The light in his eyes began slowly to fade
And sleep would be easily found.
If not to this freedom did he feel such a cause
And to her so earthly bound.

In the silence once more he heard the flag snap
So proud it waved through the flames.
His purpose fulfilled, she was safe once more
Until the next violent time around.

The battle fought well and freedom not claimed 
By those who would take it away 
Life would go on for those whom he saved
To live well for another day.

He felt just as weary as the old flag looked
And he struggled to take one more breath.
But he smiled in the end, it was worth all the pain
Ultimate freedom received at his death.

Details | Julia A. Keirns Poem

The Value of History

History must be cherished, and artifacts revered even if they come from a time that is not pretty. Destroying historical statues, artifacts and literature does nothing to erase the fact that it happened. There will always be those who remember whether the statue stands erect or crumbled in a pile of rubble on the ground. The act of physically destroying historical artifacts and documents only serves to anger those who would prefer to remember where they came from and how much progress has been made from a time they might just as soon forget. As one who chooses to condemn criminal behavior I am angered at the destruction of history. No history is pretty. All history contains much ugliness and violence. Just read the Bible, a book about Hitler, or any historical book from a time long ago. Historical culture is valuable. We must materially remember the past and where we came from or history will repeat itself. We too soon forget how bad it was, and the same ideas will creep back into existence and occur again if not kept in check. No, history is not pretty, but it must be remembered.

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Purpose

Wasting away
Moments to years
Holding Back
The flow of tears
Wishing for more
Wanting no less
Than to feel each day
A sense of purpose.

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The Storm

Distant sounds
Of thunder
White clouds turn gray
Darkness moves in
Lightning strikes
As the storm begins
Wind and rain
Pouring down
Cleansing the pain
It washes away
Fresh
Renewed
Clean as can be
The storm it came
And set me free

Details | Julia A. Keirns Poem

Stage Fright

Sweaty palms
And a nervous stomach
Getting up in front of a crowd.
Everyone staring
Waiting and listening
For me to speak out loud.
Butterfly sensation
My voice begins to crack
And the words begin to flow.
I speak and talk
The truth comes out
I stand firm in the glow.
Confidence appears
Fright and worry die
Others judge the sound.
Smiles and laughter
Thoughts achieved
Clapping hands abound.

Details | Julia A. Keirns Poem

The Tree

The tree was magnificent in all its green glory
Its limbs spread proud and true
Beautifully shaped and full of new growth
It stood tall against the blue.
Many a child it had seen evolve
In the seventy years in the yard.
Silently there but always aware
Some years were particularly hard.
The summer of 64 was the year
When the teenage boy ran away
The mother spent many a day in the shade
As the tree kept the sadness away.
82 was the year of the storm
When the tornado threatened its world
But the tree stood firm and survived the blow
Of the wind as it turned and swirled.
1994 was especially hard
When the collie named Shep had died.
Now buried below the tree by the rock
It watched as the young girl cried.
The wedding was beautiful all in white
As the daughter became a bride.
Out in the yard, under the old oak tree
Even the father cried.
The rocking chairs now sit on the porch
As the age of the parents shows.
The old oak tree looks worse for wear
But a new young tree seedling grows.

Details | Julia A. Keirns Poem

The Fisherman

Off he goes again into his own little world
To catch a Largemouth Bass.
Fishing rod and reel in hand
He takes another pass.

With his Bass Tracker boat 
Trolling motor set on five.
The thrill of the catch
Keeps him feeling alive.

The sound of the water slapping the boat
And the sound of the reel as it turns.
The view of the lake in the still morning air
Makes him want to never return.

He tries to make his family believe
That it’s all about the fishing.
But he enjoys the peaceful break
From the stressfulness of living.

He vows that he will fish all day
Until the day is done.
He may come home with tons of bass
Or maybe only one.

For it’s not about the fish you see
Or the meal he might provide.
It’s all about the time he spends
With nature alone outside.

And when his time on earth is through
And his fishing days are done.
He’ll take his rod and reel with him
To his place in fishing heaven.

Details | Julia A. Keirns Poem

A Baby Deer

I saw a baby deer
Lying in the grass.
I didn’t want to scare it
So I quietly walked past.
I went to tell my daddy
What I had seen that day.
And he told me the baby deer
Would surely be okay.
The little white spots
I saw upon its back.
Would hide the baby deer
Until the mommy could come back.

Details | Julia A. Keirns Poem

Housefly From Hell

There's a fly in the house
Buzzing around
Driving me nuts
With his buzzing sound.
I get the fly swatter
It's here in my hand
I wait and I watch for that sucker to land.
Then ever so slowly I lift my arm
Intention to pounce with a flap
Down comes the thunder
I'm swift and I'm quick
But just not as quick as all that.
I swat with a vengeance
In midflight air
He moves lickety split
First he's here, then he's there.
Don't get too comfortable
You housefly from Hell
For my house is not your place to dwell.