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Best Poems Written by Anthony Stern

Below are the all-time best Anthony Stern poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Anthony Stern Poem

Under the Montana Sky

Oh great father
give this child a home,
give him the love of a good family
and a lover of his own,
give him a fire in his spirit
and hope in his heart,
my the heavens bless him,
under the wild Montana sky.

Details | Anthony Stern Poem

Sing Me a Song

Sing me a song of time gone by,
to remember friends long gone.

Sing me a song of love,
to remember the love we share together.

Sing me a song of youth and beauty,
to remember your face.

Sing me a song of joy,
so I can die with a smile on my face.

Sing me a song of life,
so I can die with a melody in my heart.

Details | Anthony Stern Poem

Because She Loves You

There is nothing more magical,
nor precious, 
than the gift of motherly love. 

Your heart thaws, as she grasps you in a warm embrace 
Her smile fills you with joy,
She putts her soul into everything she dose, 
because, she love you. 

She gives you advice,
and she helps you,
she is your guardian angel 
because she loves you. 

It is true,
You will have quarrels. 
About little miner things. 
But, at the end of the day,
She still loves you,
and you love her,
because she's you mom,
and you wouldn’t have it another way!

Details | Anthony Stern Poem

This Feeling

I don’t understand, this feeling inside. 
It’s so sudden and new.
I felt it first, when I laid eyes on you. 
Your face so fine, your eyes so kind. 
When you smile, my heart stops.
What is this feeling inside? 
Is it good? Is it Grand?
Its so sudden, its so new!

Just wait a minute,
time begins to pass, 
you break our dance as you turn you eyes. 
What is this feeling, 
so sudden and new?
I felt it first when you 
turned turned your back. 
My heart sank, as you stepped away.
I fear, we shall never meet.

My head begins to droop,
my eyes begin to tear.
Then a hand a feel on my shoulder. 
There you are smiling at me. 

What is this feeling? you ask. 
It’s so sudden and new.
I felt it first, when I laid eyes on you. 
Your face so fine, your eyes so kind. 
When you smile, my heart stops.
What is this feeling inside?

Love! I say. Its love.
I love you and you love me!
We kiss each other, and we are now complete. 
Until the end, I am yours and you are mine.

Details | Anthony Stern Poem

A Tiny Town

No one for me at the station.
No one calling me a cab.
No one to welcome me,
to this tiny, tiny, town.

No one to say hello.
No one to wish me luck.
No one to welcome me,
to this tiny, tiny, town.

I went to a drug store.
No one to meet me there.
No one to talk to me.
No one to welcome me, 
to this tiny, tiny, town.

I went to the town square.
People for miles around.
All giggling, and having fun,
but no one knew of me.
No one cared for me.
No one to welcome me,
to this tiny, tiny, town.  

And then in a window,
of a little coffee store. 
There was a beautiful face,
so full of hope and grace.
He came out and spoke to me.
Hello, hello, hello.
I would like to welcome you,
to this tiny, tiny, town.
He came out and said to me,
I would like to welcome you, 
to this tiny, tiny, town.

Details | Anthony Stern Poem

Love

Living together in happiness
Observing each others characteristics  
Vowing to protect and honor them 
Enjoying there presence

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Wild Horses

Standing tall and firm
majestic, a warrior's companion,
they run through the open plans, 
free, like a bird of the air
to walk among them is a like a dream
I want to run with the wild horses
who are peaceful, yet dangerous
I want to run with the wild horses.

Details | Anthony Stern Poem

I Am a Witch

I am a witch!
Though not in the way you may think.

I have a gift of magic
though not with a wand.

I fly threw the night sky
though not with a broom.

I am a witch!
My poetic words lift others into the air
and send them to different lands.

I am a witch!
My brush bewitches those with a wondering eye
as I eclipse them in a painting of joy and beauty.

I am a witch!
My song lifts people up, with such a joyful expression!
Yet at the same time, can cause them great sadness.

I am a witch,
though not in the way you may think.
For art, is my magic.
Are you ready to be amazed?

Details | Anthony Stern Poem

On a Monday Morning

The clock tolls five on a Monday morning,
and my lover is swimming along, 
caching his breath between strokes. 
He glides threw the water. 
Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.
My Lover is swimming on a Monday morning. 

The clock tolls eight on a Monday morning,
and my lover is walking to class,
to learn of ideas and equations.
Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.
My lover is learning on a Monday morning. 

The clock tolls ten on a Monday morning,
and my lover is sining a song.
He sings to me a song of love, though I am not there to hear it.
Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.
My lover is singing on a Monday morning.

The clock tolls four, it is no longer morning,
and my lover is thinking of me.
He wonders on what the future hold,
hoping everything will be gay.
Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.
My lover is thinking of me.

The clock tolls eight, the day is out,
and my lover is sitting with me. 
We are holding hands, and we are happy.
Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.
My lover and I are sitting together,
My hand in his, and his in mine,
never to part, never to end.

Ding dong, Ding dong, the clock tolls.

Details | Anthony Stern Poem

That Old Fiddle of His

A long and narrow road. Trees stretched in the summer breeze. 
The dirt and fallen leaves crescendoed under my footsteps. 
As I walked down this road, my mind turned to the towering trees.
They were cool, and smooth to the touch.
I closed my eyes and breathed. 
I could smell salt in the air, and I knew that ocean was near. 
I emerged from the end of the road 
There I found a great white house, perched at a sea-side cliff.
The salty winds had taken a toll on the old mansion, it’s paint chipped.
An old man came into view. He sat on an old log overlooking the sea. 
He had a fiddle and bow in hand. 
He contemplated, pondered, and thought, of the perfect note to end his song. 
Then he heard me, and called me over. 
He told me to sit, and be still, to open my mind to the notes he played. 
Together we sat, on that sea cliff, as he played on that old fiddle of his. 
Nothing seemed to matter, not the time, nor the weather. 
Everything was peaceful, as we sat, listening to that old fiddle, of his.