Your Favorite Poems

Climb Till Your Dream Comes True
  by: Helen Steiner Rice

often your task will be many,
and more than you think you can do,
often the hills insurmountable, too,
but always remember,
the hills ahead are never as steep as they seem,
and with faith in your heart, start upward
and climb 'til you reach your dream.
for nothing in life that is worthy
is ever too hard to achieve
if you have the faith to believe,
for faith is a force that is greater
than knowledge or power or skill
and many defeats turn to triumph
if you trust in God's wisdom and will,
there is nothing that God cannot do,
so start out today with faith in your heart
and climb 'til your dream comes true. 

POEMS OF POVERTY
 
Poverty stalks my dreams in the night
As he walks on the beach, ‘tween tides of time
He shelters in shadows, away from the light
And thou I can’t see him, he follows my line
And nothing I do will make him take flight
 
But as he circles, sheltered in shade
I wander along to his old Devil song
And hear him and fear him and feel so afraid
For I wonder to whom my soul will belong
As he lurches along the trail I have made
 
Dragging Demons for me out the sack on his back
While I just need to sleep in dark dunes of sand
But he waits ‘til I stagger to start his attack
Then seizes me tight in the grip of his hand
As the seams of my dreams all fade into black
 
So we wander along, shackled together
To shuffle the shore, at a slovenly pace
With Conscience in tow, whatever the weather
For she’s in no hurry to finish the race
With a hold of my soul, her song is forever
 
But stumbling on stones thrown up by the sea
My nemesis Death is heading this way
He digs up old wounds to hurl them at me
As stalking beneath a sky of slate-grey
He callously hurls them with vigour and glee
 
Now I spot his companions Illness and Fear
Who are lurking close by, waiting to show
Their slow recognition, as we grow near
But now I do fear, they will deal me a blow
So I fight against Fate, to escape and get clear
 
But they come within reach, so we sit on the beach
In a hollow called Hope, where we celebrate Hate
A faithful old friend, who seems to be late
But the party has started, and will go on ’til dawn
When they all will decide, just to whom I belong
 
http://www.radicalpoetry.com/poems_of_poverty.htm

The Lawn re-Arranger.
by Danny R

The giant came again last night
But left before the dawn
He used his giant cake slice
And had lifted up my lawn
He sloshed it in the pond next door
(Which infuriates my neighbour!)
He seems to think my lawn’s some kind
of photographic paper.
Encapturing the images
encountered through the day
Of cat and dog, the odd hedgehog
And children, lost in play.
The giant cannot stand the light
But loves to see these things
He never sees the bumble bees
Nor yet, the heron’s wings.
And while I really sympathise,
His deeds I can’t condone.
Since he volunteered for night shifts
Can’t he leave my grass alone?