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Beatrice Boyle Poem
I have seen spring’s awakening
And basked in summer’s sun
And I have watched in awe
As autumn’s colors softly sprung
But now that winter’s here
Amid the softly falling snow
I mourn for the beauty
That was lost so long ago.
Oh sweet bird of youth
You lavished me with your love
Whispering sweet nothings
Under twinkling stars above
You led me to believe
I’d spend eternity with you
Then without a warning
You disappeared from view!
Down through the years
I've searched for you in vain
All I have are memories
Of you that remain
Now. most of my songs
Have been sung
But I cling to the melody
Of when we were young
Copright©2008 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
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Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2011
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Beatrice Boyle Poem
Cherish The Moments
Cherish the moments that life has to give
For you to remember as long as you live
Memories are all that shall ever remain
Of moments of life you can never regain
Children, your family, friends that you knew
May grow up or away and bid you adieu
Nothing’s forever…not written in stone
The past is behind you, the future...unknown
Capture today...take THIS moment…NOW
This may be all the fates will allow
Hold close to your heart those moments of love
And cherish them all…as a gift from above.
Copyright©2003 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2011
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Beatrice Boyle Poem
I have never been to Calvary Nor trod Jerusalem’s path
I did not suffer the crown of thorns nor felt the Roman’s wrath
I did not see Judas’ kiss as he betrayed our Lord
Nor Peter’s thrice denial of the Master he adored
I never felt the weight of the Cross nor heard the jeers of the crowd
I never flinched when He passed by
His body bloodied but unbowed.
His hands and feet were pierced with nails but I was not there to see
The agony He suffered as He lay dying on the tree
But although I was not there to help Him on his way
I cling to the last words He uttered on that day
For He forgave his captors...forgave us sinners too
There is no greater love than this...
He gave his life for you!
Copyright2002 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
For Brian's Aspect of Love Contest
Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2011
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Beatrice Boyle Poem
On Being Eighty
Do not smile and pat me on the head
Because I’m eighty
Do not treat me as though I were a child
Because I’m eighty
Do not assume that I am
Not as bright as you
Or that my opinion doesn’t count
Because I’m eighty
Do not talk about me
As though I weren’t there
Because I’m eighty
Do not roll your eyes to heaven
When I complain and please...Please
Don’t call me dearie
Just because I’m eighty
I have lived through the Depression,
The birth of television
The invention of the microwave,
Modern air travel,
Space ships, Man on the moon,
WW2, Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf War and Iraq
While holding down numerous jobs
And raising a family.
All this without
Cell Phones, Ipods, Nannies,
Personal Trainers and Botox!
So please…my dear
Do not patronize me
Because I’m eighty
Indeed…celebrate with me
Just BECAUSE I’m eighty!
Copyright© 2008 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2011
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Beatrice Boyle Poem
Here lies Bea At a hundred and three
In the place she vowed She’d never be
She always swore She’d never die
Till all who bugged her
In the grave would lie
She hung on tight To the very end
No foe was left For flowers to send
Let’s raise a glass And shed a tear
She sure raised hell while she was here!
Copyright©2004 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved
Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2012
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Beatrice Boyle Poem
If I Were A Stone
If I were a stone…without a doubt I would be a lovely marbled granite…
the center of attention in a newly updated kitchen.
All eyes would be upon me…the first choice of decorators and would- be buyers everywhere. I would be a “must have” and a “deal breaker” for purchasers the world over. I would lord it over the mundane and dull kitchen cabinets no matter what the style. While their doors would be slammed shut a thousand times a day and scrubbed till they were sore…(ouch!)… I would be lovingly and carefully wiped down until they could almost see their reflection in me.
My island would be the gathering place and hub of the home…children would utilize me for their homework…my mistress would cheerfully hum a happy tune while rolling out delicious pies or cookies for dessert... my master would lay his briefcase down on me in order to hug the cook!
Unlike the living room rug (who thinks he’s king by the way.) I would not be stepped on, stomped on with dirty or muddy sneakers or roller skated on, (boys will be boys) or taken for granted in any way.
I would be the `piece de resistance` of the household and the most admired feature of the home.
And last …but not least…I would be carefully selected and carved, to serve as a towering memorial for loved ones to come and say a silent prayer for our nation’s fallen …and… bravest men!
I would be more than proud to be a granite stone!
For the "Stoned" contest.
Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2011
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Beatrice Boyle Poem
Who is that woman
That follows me around
She mimics everything I do
But she doesn't make a sound
She looks somewhat like me
More mature I must confess
Although her hair is grayer
She copies the way I dress!
She only appears in the mirror
Whenever I primp and preen
She's the spitting image of me
Except for the years between
Who is that aging woman
What does she want with me?
She always appears on my birthday
I wish she’d let me be
Now that I am eighty three
I thought I saw a tear
Did I say I'm eighty three?
It couldn’t be THAT year!
I’m still in my prime
Having fun and loving life
Getting into trouble
No worries, strain or strife
It must be HER birthday
We celebrate today
I wish her health and happiness
And good luck along the way
But she's really getting old
What more can I say
Why is she in my mirror?
I just wish she‘d go away!
Copyright©2011 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2011
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Beatrice Boyle Poem
For Francine Robersts contest....Pick A Beverage
I once drank a glass of champagne
Then ran naked into the rain
I love all the bubbles
But it caused so much trouble
I’ll never drink it again!
Copyright©2011 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2011
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Beatrice Boyle Poem
Vanity…Thy Name Is Woman!
My house is on fire
What shall I do
I’ve seconds to decide
My choices are few
Shall I grab my money
My precious jewels
Or my brand new furry
Bedside mules?
This smoke is deadly
I can hardly breathe
I make a mental list
Of what to bequeath
But live or die
I’ll wear my designer dress
I’ve got to look great
For all the press!
Copyright2012 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
For Kristen Bruni's Last Chance Poetry Contest
Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2012
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Beatrice Boyle Poem
On My Eighty Fifth Birthday
Another Birthday…I’m still alive
Never thought that I’d survive
To the ripe old age of Eighty Five!
But here I am…feisty still
Even though I’m over the hill!
Don’t count me out...Don’t ring that bell
I’m still here and raising hell!
Had a few blimps along the way
But I’m not leaving, I’m here to stay
Still have plans…I’m not done yet
I may do things I may regret
But I’ll have fun doing it
You can bet!
It matters not how old you are
You can dream your dream
Or follow your star
Your flesh may fail you
Your steps may be slow
More and more wrinkles start to show
But there is one thing I surely know
A man isn’t judged by how he looked
Or the size of his fortune or pocketbook
The greatest legacy he leaves behind
Isn’t intelligence or a fertile mind
But the love he gave to his family and friends
A heart full of love always transcends
Fame and fortune in the end
So Happy Birthday again to me
How many more…..?
We’ll just have to see
In the meantime friends
You’ll be hearing from me!
Copyright©2013 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2013
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