::Grab a cup of coffee or herbal tea and cozy up to read inspirational Poems & stories ::

If you know who wrote any of the 'unknown author' stories, please let me know
and I will give proper credit. Thanks :)


Love is never silent,

A loving heart, a gentle smile,
a warm and tender touch,
We give so many things in life
but nothing means as much.

A little inspiration
when someone loses hope,
A kind word of encouragement
when they no longer seem to cope.

A simple phrase, "I love you"
when no one else is there,
Taking hold onto a hand
in a little heartfelt prayer.

Love is never silent,
it has so much to say,
And it is our greatest blessing
when we give it all away.



A blue sky day.

I woke up this morning,
And stretched my hands over my head;
I asked the Lord to bless us all,
As I jumped out of the bed.

I ran to put the coffee on,
And turned up the local news;
Opened up the door,
And laced up my walking shoes.

As I walked around the garden,
And looked down upon the ground;
I saw upon a dewy flower,
A butterfly safe and sound.

From flower to flower it tasted,
And flapped it's little wings;
Then I looked up in the trees,
And the birds began to sing.

I looked up in the sky,
On this the first day of May;
I knew right from the start,
It was going to be a "blue sky day".

I walked among the flowers,
And picked a few here and there;
I smelled the sweet fragrances around me,
And felt the warm sunshine in my hair.
By Shirley Jean Pickens



Look
Have you ever seen the light
that shines along the shore
and watched the waves roll in
and heard the breakers roar?

Have you ever seen the sandpipers
running from the wave,
then quickly running back again
to see what they could save?

Have you felt the cool sand
on the bottom of your feet
and as you walked along,
someone else you chanced to meet?

Hello Friend; Let's walk along together.
I'm sure all this isn't just for me.
It's for all the World to see.
© Charles R. Gates 10-5-1999


winter Comes

The wind is blowing cold out of the north,
Steel gray skies with rain on the way,
Geese are noisily heading south
Signaling the end of summer,
With its warm days and soft breezes.

The rain begins to fall now, turning to sleet
As the last of the geese take flight.
Their long journey has begun.
The deer have gone to their winter place,
Only to return when spring again comes.

The pond is almost frozen over now;
Only a lone hawk is seen now and again.
The bare trees sigh as the snow begins to fall.
It's a time to think, to hope, to remember;
To curl up by the fire and dream.

Soon the geese will return on tired wings;
The deer will make their trek home, heavy with fawn.
The ice and snow will melt and life will renew
With flowers and fresh new buds
It will be spring once again, a fresh beginning.

© Toni Britton


Mothers hands

Hands that rocked the cradle
From the moment of my birth,
Their tender touch remembered
By those still on this earth.

Soft as silk those hands
That taught me how to pray,
Banishing childhood fears;
They soothed each one away.

When I grew much older
And troubles came my way,
Those hands caressing mine
Did more than words could say.

Mother's hands were gentle,
They're missed so very much,
I'd give the world to feel once more
Their warm and tender touch.

Those hands were full of comfort
Now they lie at rest,
But memory holds them close
To the ones they served the best.

©2002 Marian Jones
used with permission....thanks!

Visit Marian's World of Poetry


A friend you can lean on

I will be there in the morning
Be there all day long
Be there in the evening
I’m a friend you can lean on

When your hour is its darkest
You can count on me
When your hour is its brightest
We’ll share the victory

Anytime you need me
Morning, day or night
Whether you’re sad or happy
I’ll be right there by your side

Don’t hesitate to call me
For that’s what friends are for
I’ll be there for you gladly
You’ll find an open door!!

Copyright © 1998 Tammy Boyle
used with permission....thanks!

Visit Tammy's Poetry
.



Our Foolish Masquerade

I met your polished image
at the corner store today;
we chatted for a moment
till you hurried on your way.

You spoke with gracious warmth
though pain was darting in your eyes,
I sensed the weight of sorrow
underneath your smooth disguise.

I wish we could have shared a hug
instead of flippant words;
but you adroitly camouflaged
the wounds you have endured.

Why must we wear these masks,
pretend our posturing is real?
What makes us so ashamed
to have our inner self revealed?

Perhaps we hear the echoes
of a parent's stern refrain,
or maybe we've set lofty goals
we fear we can't attain.

We all have imperfections -
they're what make us each unique;
why strive to mold facades
that hide the very truth we seek?

To celebrate ourselves
is something few of us are taught;
but life is far too short to waste
on being who we're not!
by Laryalee Fraser

 



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