Best Samia Ali Arroyo Poems

Below are the all-time best Samia Ali Arroyo poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Magic River

Deep inside the forest of the Elvin King. There flows a magic river from an ancient spring. They say its special waters hold the mystery of youth. And should you take one little drink you’ll know that it’s the truth. The waters all originate from way up in a fountain. That’s hidden very cleverly inside of Elvin Mountain. The extraordinary liquid looks like little diamond chips. Granting youth to everyone with one or two small sips. The river has a secret that is only known to elves. For centuries, the mystery still kept between themselves. They say it is the reason that they live so very long. And that aside from giving youth it also makes them strong. People come to drink the waters from the distant lands. Even from the ocean and the beaches rich with sands. Everyone has tried to guess its power through the years. Little do the people know the river’s strength is tears. For every time a little baby elf begins to cry. They take the little baby tears up to the mountain high. They drop them in the fountain where they travel down the spring. Creating all the magic that the river waters bring. One small sip of precious water on a person’s tongue. Will instantly transform them to the way when they were young. So if you find the Magic River take a sip or two. For it will surely make you feel just like you are brand new.

Copyright © Samia Ali Salama | Year Posted 2012

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Roy and the Land of Books

In the land where children play. A boy named Roy would sleep all day. No matter what his friends all said. The boy would not get out of bed. For he was very bored with toys. The ones for little girls and boys. He said that they were all the same. The cars and trucks and every game. But then one day Roy got a book. He figured he would take a look. And when he opened up the cover. Of books he soon became a lover. He read the book from front to back. He read about a boy named Jack. And all about a silver train. And then about a place called Spain. He read about each moon and star. And just how far away they are He learned of ancient histories. And many science mysteries. Soon he had a big collection. Of which the boy had great affection. His favorite thing to do was read. He learned to do it with great speed. One afternoon a friend came by. And asked if he could also try. To read a book instead of play. Immediately, Roy said, ‘You may.’ Soon his books were being read. By Sue and John and little Ted. That’s how the land of toys became. The land of books instead of games.
For Francine Roberts' Children in Rhyme contest, by Samia Arroyo

Copyright © Samia Ali Salama | Year Posted 2012

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The Gladiator

Blood mixed with dirt was still moist on the ground.
Traces of battle were scattered around.
The man entered slowly, a snare on his face.
Trying to hide his contempt and disgrace.

Announced by the cheers of the people above.
Among all the fighters they showed him most love.
Never defeated, no matter the foe.
With him they all knew they would soon see a show.

The man was all muscle, and seven feet tall.
Compared to his size, all the guards appeared small.
His skin was tanned golden, his eyes piercing green.
His hair long and braided and dark with a sheen.

His helmet of metal was fitted just so.
His sword and his shield had a rich, shiny glow.
A belt made of leather protected his waist.
His greaves, thick and sturdy and perfectly laced.

Suddenly silent, the crowd had grown still.
Awaiting arrival, expecting a thrill.
And then there was thunder, the roar of the beast.
Declaring his entrance, predicting a feast.

The man and the lion began in their game.
Predator, prey, they both looked the same.
They circled and circled and then in a blink.
The cat had attacked, so anxious to drink.

They struggled together, locked in a war.
The crowd cheered them on, hoping for gore.
And then he was bitten, the wound on his leg.
But he would not fumble and he would not beg.

He reached for his weapon so close where it lay.
He would not accept this would be his last day.
And just as the creature had pounced in the air.
He killed the great cat with his sword and a prayer.

The fighter stood up with his blood dripping down.
The steel of his helmet concealing his frown.
The great gladiator continued to reign.
Another he killed, one more smile he must feign.

Copyright © Samia Ali Salama | Year Posted 2012

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My New GPS

I had an interview last week and used my GPS.
I thought how wonderful it was, I would not have to guess.
What exits I should enter, what lefts and rights to make.
My wonderful new GPS, my trusty guide I’d take.

And so I started early so that I would not be late.
I’d waited three long weeks to get this most awaited date.
I plugged my GPS right in and put the address in.
I thought this was the greatest thing, a positive win-win.

Things were going pretty good until the mountain top.
When my new GPS caused me to make a sudden stop.
My trusty guide said ‘make a right,’ but that just could not be.
For if I was to make a right I’d crash into a tree.

Perhaps a small computer glitch and so I turned around.
My little GPS then said, ‘recalculating now.’
I drove another four more miles and got a new command.
This time the new directions took me to a swampy land.

Now what the heck was I to do, at that point I was lost.
To miss my chance for a new job was a tremendous cost.
And so I turned around again, I’d never be on time.
Across the bridge and up another mountain I must climb.

That’s when my GPS said keep on going ten miles straight.
Unfortunately, that road took me to another state.
Needless to say, I didn’t make it to my interview.
Now I just do Map Quest because my guide and I are through.

Copyright © Samia Ali Salama | Year Posted 2012

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Snow Cone Magic

The red umbrella was the sign. 
An icy treat would soon be mine. 
A memory when I was young.
When snow cone magic cooled my tongue.

A block of ice perched on a cart.
A masterpiece, a work of art.
The line was long but soon I’d be.
Filled with joy and summer glee.

I watched the vendor scrape the ice.
Fixed upon the strange device.
Particles that sprayed about.
Cooled my face from summer’s drought.

Then as he shaped the precious chips.
I dreamed of how they’d cool my lips.
Now the time to choose at last.
My flavor choice the man would ask.

Coconut would always win.
And so he’d start to pour and spin.
A bottle rich with sweet delight.
Oh how I loved that icy sight.

Done and paid now it was time.
True happiness for just a dime.
Then racing fast against the sun.
As coco ice would melt and run.

Copyright © Samia Ali Salama | Year Posted 2012

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Spitting Watermelon Seeds

Watermelon slices.
That smell so ripe and sweet.
Take me back in time again.
When mother sliced the treat.

Sitting in the kitchen.
With the window opened wide.
Spitting watermelon seeds.
Out to the other side.

Copyright © Samia Ali Salama | Year Posted 2012

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Having a Bad Day

Today I had the roughest day that I have ever had.
Of all the crazy, wacky ones, this day’s been really bad.
It started when I first woke up and fell out of my bed.
I cut my scalp so deep the blood was dripping from my head.

I found some gauze and taped it on until the bleeding stopped.
I put the coffee on then in the shower quickly hopped.
But then I dropped the bar of soap, that’s when I slipped and fell. 
I twisted my right ankle and my knee began to swell.

I poured some shampoo on my head and lathered up my hair.
But some of it got in my eyes and burned beyond compare.
Then as I limped out of the tub and went to grab my towel.
I noticed something smelled real bad, something very foul.

The eggs that I was boiling were now burning in the pot. 
The house was filled with smoke and the alarm just wouldn’t stop.
I grabbed the broom and swatted the alarm with all my might.
Instead I hit the ceiling lamp and shattered the whole light.

I quickly backed away as glass had flown around the room.
The day was only one hour old but I was filled with doom.
I opened up the windows and the smoke went streaming out.
My neighbors must have called the firemen I have no doubt.

Then in the hazy smoke I got some glass stuck in my foot.
I guess I should have sat right down and really just stayed put.
The firemen were quick to come, and call an ambulance.
I felt like I was in a daze, a crazy dream or trance.

The EMS removed the glass that stuck inside my feet.
They bandaged up my ankle and my knee, they were so sweet.
I guess I just can’t win, so back to bed I’ll go and stay.
And hopefully, tomorrow it will be a better day.

Copyright © Samia Ali Salama | Year Posted 2012

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One Dark and Misty Night

There is a place inside the woods where I wound up one night.
Way up in the mountains where I went to get a bite.
Circumstances led me there the day my car broke down.
I thought I’d get a meal as I was stranded near the town.

It was a lovely autumn day, the trees were crimson red.
It was their last hurrah before the leaves were dried and shed.
The yellows and the oranges were mingled with the green.
The sight was so breathtaking, the most lovely that I’d seen.

The back roads were the prettiest and so I went that way.
My camera was my passenger and chronicled the day.
But halfway through my journey my car heated up and died.
My cell phone had no signal and nowhere was there a ride.

That’s when I saw the smoke emerging from a chimney top.
Way up in the mountain where I thought there’d be a shop.
And so I started climbing as the day had turned to dusk.
Even now, I still can smell the pine trees and the musk.

Echoes in the misty night surrounded me with fear.
Something was behind me I could feel that it was near.
I started walking faster as my heart began to race.
The eerie sounds of creatures filled the earth and every space.

I finally reached a clearing and the lights that were up high.
I screamed into the darkness with no answer to my cry.
That’s when I heard the howling of the wolves into the night.
And when I felt the burning of the teeth sink in and bite.

I screamed in pain and horror as I fell onto the ground.
I started crawling to a house, the closest in the town.
But just before I reached the door, I felt a bite again.
I know that I was saved but don’t remember how or when.

The people in the cabin took me in and made me well.
A few days later I was healed, the bites no longer swelled.
But now each time the moon is full I roam the woods til light.
All because my car broke down one dark and misty night.

For Gail Doyle's 'Stranded' contest, by Samia Ali Arroyo

Copyright © Samia Ali Salama | Year Posted 2012

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My New Diet

I started a new diet that promised it would be.
The diet of all diets and it would set me free.
They said I’d lose a lot of weight in just a month or two.
And I would get so thin and svelte as if I was brand new.

They said I’d have to give up foods that I eat every day.
They said it was unfortunate, there was no other way.
And so they started to remove most of my favorite foods.
The ones that always put me in those very happy moods.

The first thing that would have to go was everything deep fried.
Not wanting to show weakness, they never knew I cried.
And then they said I’d have to give up butter on my bread.
That was the moment I broke down, a sea of tears were shed.

They said no cakes or muffins, good-bye to chocolate chips.
They said it was the only way to keep them off my hips.
Of course they said no ice-cream, now that was no surprise.
And no more cherry, pumpkin or luscious chocolate pies.

No gravy and no stuffing, not even one small bite.
They said I could have turkey as long as it was white.
No bacon in the morning, no pizza for my lunch.
No pancakes and no waffles with syrup for my brunch.

I had to give up donuts with toppings of all types. 
Linzer tarts and cookies with those lovely lemon stripes.
Gone were the potato chips and all the lovely dips.
No more was I allowed to taste sweet candies on my lips.

Now I drink black coffee for breakfast every day.
Shredded wheat for breakfast, the one that tastes like hay.
At lunchtime a small salad and different types of fruits. 
For dinner time a chicken breast with rice and bamboo shoots.

Then nightly I drink herbal tea to soothe my hungry nerves.
But when I go to sleep at night I dream about hors d’oeuvres.

Copyright © Samia Ali Salama | Year Posted 2012

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Stuck in Bed

I know my supervisor thought I lied, the day I said.
The reason that I had been out was I was stuck in bed.
I tried explaining desperately the rain had been to blame.
He looked at me like I was nuts, it really was a shame.

I told him that the night before it had rained cats and dogs.
So much that by the morning time the flooding hit the bogs.
And seeing how my little house is near a swampy creek.
It wasn’t long before my house had sprung a great big leak.

His face got twisted when I said my house got washed away.
And pretty soon my house was floating on Big Hollow Bay.
I told him in great detail how the planks began to break.
And how I wound up floating in my bed in Big Bear Lake.

I finally was rescued by the firemen in town.
It took them many hours just to pull my bed in ground.
So like I said, I told him that the rain had been to blame.
Unfortunately, I don’t think that he believes my claim. 

Copyright © Samia Ali Salama | Year Posted 2012