Get Your Premium Membership

Best Poems Written by Milly Hunter

Below are the all-time best Milly Hunter poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Milly Hunter Poems

Details | Milly Hunter Poem

Punting Along The Avon

Down by the Avalon at the Christchurch Square
Weeps the living willows, serene, free from care
Nature’s own exotic home, a garden set in greenery
Here the Avon River fountain flows majestically

Victoria Park rest near the Christchurch Town Hall theme
Punting on the Avon is a relaxing pastime dream
This Avon runs along the botanical gardens to view
The Copthorne Central hotel overlooking Victoria park too

You can dine A La Carte while you travel round the city
Punting the Avon without seeing the cathedral would be a pity
Seeing the Bridge of Remembrance over the Avon is awesome
Sort of like Autumn before springtime helping life blossom

Avon River at Victoria Square is Heaven’s garden summery
It runs through Hagley Park, in Christchurch, breathtakingly
Nearest the Train Station Tramway, a few miles from my home
Check out some of the photos here of places where I roam 

Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2006

Details | Milly Hunter Poem

Was Evil Created by God...?

Challenged with this university question,
One researched Truth's 'whole confession.'

How many, to such a question, might dare say yes;
If God created evil then He is evil, one might guess.

But, then, one student did profoundly asked:
"Tell me professor, does cold exist to last...?"

The professor replied, "Of course it exists."
What was this brassy student's logic, or gist?

Amazingly, the bold student retorted, "That's not true."
"With laws of physics, cold is the absence of heat (for you)."

All can succumb to a proven study, as energy will transmit.
Cold does not exist; the word only describes how we feel, to fit. 

The calm student continued, "Sir, does darkness exist?"
The confident professor retorted, "Of course it does."

The student replied, "Again, Sir, that's not right;
Darkness is actually the absence of the Light."

Newton 's prism is used to break light into colours of aura.
Wavelengths cannot measure an unilluminated area.

The light's ray can break a world of darkness, illuminating it.
Darkness is termed to describe the absence of light, present.

Finally the youth asked, "Sir, does evil exist?"
A bit unsure the man said, "Of course (not wanting to resist)."

At last the youth replied, "Evil does not exist Sir (neath God's rod)."
Evil does not exist 'unto itself,' it is simply the absence of God." 

"God did not create evil, He created beings with free-choice."
The youth was Albert Einstein; I am 'only relating his voice.'

Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2007

Details | Milly Hunter Poem

Mr. Paparazzo Papadopoulos Twist Nonsensically

Twisters unlike Supercala-fragilistic-expealidocious 
Imagining dreams he was socialistically-unrealistic
Can you imagine an imaginary menagerie manager
Or try imagining managing an imaginary menagerie

Ev'rything can be satisfactch’ll for Zip-a-Dee-Doodah
Of course some make a hoo-hah over tiddly-boo-yah
Reggie’s chilly cheap chip shop sells Daryl a freak dip
Frightfully silly of her for, he flamboyantly let it rip

Her croaking Frog cost truly a princely sum of snobbery
Forgotten hopes, forlorn, besotted froglips of buffoonery
When the bleak breeze blights the bright blighted blossom
Betty beat a bit of butter to make a batter better awesome

Such a floozy to improperly expect a decent cup of coffee
I made it in a proper copper coffee pot, served with toffee
Later I saw Esau kissing Kate; at least me’ thinks I saw
The sorriest saw I saw was rustic on sawdust in Arkansas

Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2006

Details | Milly Hunter Poem

God's Address

"Thus says the High and Lofty ONE who dwells in eternity,
I dwell with him of a humble and contrite heart- (of reality)."
Even as the Biblical King David had a heart after Me...
None were as "quick to repent" for a better posterity.

The loving apostle John said "men prefer darkness that they may not see."
Oh apologetic perhaps, but that can be an outward-show or one's fallacy. 
However, with true repentance come "fruits of godly sorrow."
Regret must be released-, a forgiving way, not kept until tomorrow.

Remorseful ones endeavour to make right "what's not" for the gospel.
REPENT, for God's kingdom is near, and can avoid the need for a hospital.
Though His address is eternity, for the contrite ones, He'll take you there.
A prerequisite for those who tremble at HIS WORD and respectfully fear.

Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2006

Details | Milly Hunter Poem

Respect, When It Is Due

To give what you haven’t got is not keen. 
Well, who would do such a ridiculous thing…?
So, then, I suppose that respect is thus learned…
Who gave it first, that we appreciate what's earned?

God so loved me first, that’s why “I respect his word.”
Transformed by such Light, some still think me absurd!
If truth acts a barrier of light, driving darkness back,
The envious projects defensive boasts, for what they lack.

Thus I quite agree with Mark Rickerby.
We will always get just what we give…
But what’s the standard for life’s blueprint… 
When others don’t conform to right and are bent?

Respect is learned perhaps, but also must be earned.
To show respect for a fool is folly that should be scorned.
I believe in “guilty by association,” not approving of strife.
Am I disrespectful when I’m so passionate for what’s life?

Biblically, even God shows himself froward with the froward!
I’ll give my foes a hardy ‘thank-you,’ keeping my pride lowered.
Respecting, in life, there is duality of balances that we learn.
Many use their roles to control; I’ll not give ’em power to burn!

Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2006

Details | Milly Hunter Poem

Apples Don't Fall Far From The Tree

I want to tell you of my second Love,
Of a churchs' impact from heaven above!
I'd grown up in such a small church.
Yet small groups can make for gossip, and worse.

Not so with Shiloh; it was heaven on earth...!
This icon of community flair was "golden mirth."
'Cause for too many years I'd been handicapped; 
Unfortunately, having wed a controlling rat.

Unworthy, I felt as if in a deep-dark pit.
Hardly would I look one in the eyes-, as I'd sit. 
Though Shiloh's heart and doors were always open,
With all people-types whose hearts were broken. 

Never had I been in a hospital that was a church.
Pure-love poured forth from this people's search.
Out of 2,000 members, one hundred "I fondly knew,"
Many of us would sit, visit, and have coffee too!

You could hear the sounds of prayer down the hall...
Sometimes there was dancing, and we had a ball...!
There, an amphitheatre of seats "led to the front."
When Pastor preached, some thought her too blunt.

You could see Shiloh believers all around town,
Wisdom's principles were of a prototype laid down.
It was great just to see them in the market places,
Healing light-&-love poured-forth from their faces!

Such longing I still have, to see my Pastoral mom, 
Indubitably, her prayers were "to keep me strong." 
Though, before any churches, she married Mr. Right. 
Later her David was born before tragedy's night.

A car accident took her beloved husband home...
For the year she was motionless, she felt so alone.
Her baby was spared, leaving her totally paralysed.
She was only-17, for that year she'd much to realize. 

Miraculously, God healed her and gave her a church.
Maybe she's the 1st. pastor to do so after a birth! 
With 25-revival churches, in all; she was going strong.
Father God has truly "blessed and kept her from wrong."

The Lord God, strong, almighty is in the midst of them.
Training victorious warriors "waging war against sin!" 
So believers went in with peace- and come out with joy!
This place was "so serene" there was no-need to be coy. 

Restoration is the message- for God restores all things.
I was once like a cripple, now I can stand and sing!
God's Dunamis power for wounded Pigeons, now like Doves,
Creates longing in me still, for such fellowship of love.
Such fond memories linger- as "I miss her still..."
Bless you, dear Violet, for caring; when I had no will.  

Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2006

Details | Milly Hunter Poem

Loneliness Makes Loudest Noise

Found on a pedestal, or hold, loneliness bends to isolation.
For silent walls to speak so comfort, felt with validation.
Feel the waves of silence as apathy chills you to the bone.
Few relish in self-centredness, or a self-sufficiency cloned.

Imagine all the comfortless-ones lost in the system’s cracks.
Nothing is as crystal clear for deeper introspection’s facts. 
Sorrow, the time you’ve taken, you’ll not be here tomorrow!
Loneliness makes awkward quirks of intentions so shallow.

Life dies inside when there’s no others willing to befriend.
A non-existing of self-worth which begins to condescend...
There’s no pleasure without communication for possibility. 
Opaque gray clouds can permeate, hiding love’s true validity.

What good is skilful listening for loquacity, or laryngitis?
It's like slapping a bandaid over the colour of Yellow-Jondus.
Sadness comes when we're forsaken by those sadly threatened.
As empty fellowship declares to annul its claim to rescind.

Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2006

Details | Milly Hunter Poem

Mom and Dad's Book of Love

Long ago, from the book of Love, came Daddy and Mommy’s dream
The greatest gift, from Father above, “with magical smiles so seen.”
For on that special day, that you were born, the angels danced all day. 
Family came to give us cards; hearts were merry with Heaven’s sway.

See “Heaven’s window opened wide,” on the day we first saw "you."
From that "special Book of Love," He’ll carefully guide us through. 
Storm clouds come and folks get lost, without God’s light to shine.
He’ll help us with our garden, dear, and give us music like wine.

You are our little sapling tree, so we'll plant you in good rich soil.
We’ll carefully watch-and-pray, each night, so the sun won’t ever boil.
Resting now safe, while angels sing, for every good is of Father God.
All your tomorrows He’ll bring; we pray ‘you’re sheltered by His rod.’

Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2006

Details | Milly Hunter Poem

Mask of Betrayal

Let's talk about betrayal,
Let's talk about a Fool "who will rail,"
Let's get to the root of the problem: 
"Teachers, of the Golden-Rule," whose lives betray and rob'em. 

Let's talk about Pride's deceit and envy it's bottom line.
Let's talk about jealousy, the root of that same kind.
Let's talk about that which is hidden, beneath the hearts of men.
Let's talk about some actors, who'd claim to be a friend.

Let's talk about those that kill, yet rarely they are seen.
Like, one who mars the image of kin, appearing bright and keen.
What about ones who- do all the right things, for the wrong reasons?
Many now-days are distracted from upright ways, amidst the seasons. 
Let's see the fruit of those who teach, not self-righteous deeds.
Let's talk about the wounds that fester, and seem to always bleed.

Let's ask some serious questions:
Why are there no books of 'Jealousy...?' Nor 'Envy' as well?"
Why are there 'such pretenders' that make life living-hell?
Why do we not learn from history, without repeating it trail?
How about we see 'Life's fragile,' focusing on where we'll sail.
Where are all the Heroes and where is "Integrity's style-?"
Where are those who stand for right, who can't abide man's guile?

My heart is sunk; it's weak from pain.
The enemy I've seen, again and again.
He's an actor; he's an angel of light,
He's a devil in the night.

The Deceitful betrays in subtle ways.
He hides behind love's shallow scam.
Appearances are his centre stage. 
He's a Wolf (I tell you), he’s not a lamb. 

Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2006

Details | Milly Hunter Poem


What's in a kiss; how many there-be...?
"So many, it boggles the mind's reality…"
A kiss can be a greeting- “of body and soul-!"
It's an unspoken language, telling more than “what's told.”
It is sometimes “a spark-,” to light one's flame…
Or often “self-flattery” to play one's game.

There's the "kiss of friendship-,"
The "kiss of guile…,"
The "kiss of SINCERITY,"
The "kiss of style…,"
There's the "kiss of Life” and the "kiss of Death!"
There's the "kiss that steals one's breath away…”
And one “that prays it will last all day!”
There's the "kiss that frees the soul…"
Also one that 'detours from one's goal…!'
There's the kiss of a parent, the “kiss of a child…,”
The “kiss of curiosity- running wild…!”
The kiss of respect; and a kiss of shame…, 
A kiss of honor- and “a kiss to tame…!”
There's a kiss of the reserved-, perceived amorous, the same;
A kiss of "the insecure-," to win their ball game!
There's a "kiss of the stagnant;" the "kiss of the free…!”
Also a "kiss of those secure-,” as the best there can be…

Yet what's in a kiss-, that's the question still…?
Maybe, it's how we perceive it to be-,
A reflection of “our state-of-mind…!”
But; there's the kiss of harmony…
A kiss that divides…
A kiss that is honest…
And a kiss that hides….
There's a kiss of the clever…
A kiss of the mundane…
There's “a kiss like a symphony-,” with rapturous refrain…!
There’s a plane where “Mercy and Truth meet intimately in bliss;”
In the plumbline-address, where “Righteousness and Peace kiss!”
Yet "still-n-all-," maybe the question should be-,
Not "what's in a kiss!”  But “what’s in the Kisser-, you see…”

Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2006