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Best Poems Written by Betty Wood-Rush

Below are the all-time best Betty Wood-Rush poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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My Calling

Reasonings

Too few
Hopefully more

My resentment flairs
My will ebbs
Still looking elsewhere

I won’t just leave
I care too much
My heart is here
Have more to give

Want answers to my whys
Know I’ll never truly know
Doors of opportunity may open
But I still hold hope
Knowing this is my calling

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The Craftsman

Twiddle, twiddle,
Work and whittle.
You say with wood
You have to fiddle.

Building cabinets
And turning bowls
The saw roars
And the lathe rolls.

A simple piece
Of wood we see.
You have the sight
Of what can be.

A piece of nothing
So lovingly held.
But with your tools
You soon meld.

And from your heart
Wonders appear.
Works of art
That we hold dear.

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Than-Bauk 1

To feel superb,
use a verb in
hyperboles!




I teach English/Writing classes at the high school level.  Am doing poetry in 3 classes right now and decided to try a new style.  Than-Bauk is kind of fun once you get the hang of it. One class really got into it and we wrote 6 poems in less than 30 minutes! Love it when the muse hits!!!

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Little Tree

Little tree pushing
skyward up through the dry dirt
wishing for water.

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The Safest Place In the World

The safest place in the world
Is in the arms of a friend -- sleeping.

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Shift Change

Steam from fresh ground coffee
Mixes with smoke from cigarettes.
Syrup mixes with butter.
Eggs mix with toast.
Clinks of forks on plates
Mix with clanks of spatulas on the grill.
Last minute bar stragglers
Mix with early morning risers.
Morning crew coming in
Mixes with night crew getting off.
It's shift change at the diner.
Time for me to mix with my bed.

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The Encounter

"Hey, you! C'mere!
Tell me what you're thinkin'."
A boy on the verge of manhood
Stepped over to the woman.
He looked so innocent
In his ragged jeans, white t-shirt,
And black, leather biker jacket.
"What do you mean,
What am I thinking?"
"What's goin' on in your head, boy?
What do you think?"
"Ok, I'll tell you what I think.
I think life can be good
If you let it be.
I think sex can be too complicated
And love too easy.
I think brown is the ugliest color
There is, was, or ever will be.
I think a '67 Stingray with
A T-top and five on the floor
Is the coolest car around,
But a '93 Metro is much more practical.
There must be some power higher than us
Because this world is too magnificent
To have happened by mistake.
I think the UT football team sucks this year
And Navy isn't doing much better,
But A&M and the Buckeyes are pretty good.
I'm in a good place inside myself,
And I think you're pretty neat yourself."
He stood there with the wind
Tossing his red hair.
She looked into those big green eyes
And grinned as she turned 
And walked away.
He yelled after her,
"Hey, you! What do you think?"
She turned and said,
"I think you'll turn out just fine."

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What the Mind Can Conceive-

The Dream.
It is bigger than me.
It has to be,
So that I may see
Where I am going 
And where I have been
And what I must do
To dream again.

The Vision.
It is far and near;
Not fully defined,
But very clear.
Just out of reach;
Within my grasp.
I must look to the future,
Not stay in the past.

The Gift.
It is my reward for living,
For moving forward,
Taking and giving.
Keep my eyes on my goals.
Make it a habit.
The dream is mine.
I will have it!

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Fear of Succeeding

The fear of failure.
Afraid to accomplish goals
For fear of not being able
To live up to past success
In the future.
Fear that people will start
Expecting too much.
And fear of not
Being able to live up to
Their ideals and expectations.
Fear that if I don't live up
To others' ideals, as well as my own,
That I will be looked down upon
And outcast.

Details | Betty Wood-Rush Poem

Vehemant Youth

Little boy on the verge of manhood.
Anger and frustration.
Filled with animosity.
Thinks he know the true world;
Believes the lies and propaganda.
Never experienced real life.
Small town boy raging against a big nation.
Words spoken in a vacuum
Falling flat on the floor
Finding no air to waft
To listening ears.
Lashing out at fire, hitting nothing,
Feeding the fire in his mind.
Smoke rolls out as he speaks
And vanishes into the night.
Little boy coming into his own
Trying to find his way.
Needs a light in the night to guide him.
Fireflies sparkle and fade away.
The only light, the fire in his soul,
Fueled by half-truths and speculation.