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Love Is A Mirror

 

A sharpened dagger stabbed in his heart,
Ripping in two, ripping apart.
It took only a few words, but her words cut him deep, 
Stealing emotions, making him weak.
A two sided mirror true in reflection,
A double edged knife cutting connections,
A place in his heart forever reserved
For the one that he loved but didn't deserve.
She twisted the dagger; it tore him apart.
She stole what was left; she stole a broken heart.

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The Grandfather Clock

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In a dusty, dark corner of a very old house, 
sits the tall, wooden worn out clock. 
It has seen its share of memories and pain, 
keeping perfect time with a tick and a tock. 

From weddings to funerals, losses and gains, 
sorrows and days filled with fun. 
What once was brand new, through the passing of days, 
has wrinkled and faded by sun. 

With busy days past, the clock sits at its post 
as it has done for years before. 
The breezes from the front door, infrequent at best, 
cease moving across the wood floor.

Tired now from its lifetime of work 
watching over the house, was this clock. 
As the sun now sets on another arduous day, 
the peaceful clock gives its last tick and last tock.

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Shipwreck

​

Like a gentle wave, you swayed against my ship.
With a gentle breeze, you guided me forward.

As the sun sank into the ocean,
Light quickly turned into an endless night.

Your clouds surrounded my night sky,
Covering all the stars.
You moved as fast as lightening,
Yet roared as loud as thunder.

Your anger, formed as a storm,
Filled the night sky.
Your gentle touch turned into piercing thorns.
You left me on the sand so sore.

As the moon set upon the horizon, 
Dawn broke and filled the sky.
You left me on the sandy shore,
Yet I never asked why.

I came, I stayed.
I fought and cried,
And in the end I was left
Shipwrecked.

 

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Dirty Face

By Shel Silverstein

​

Where did you get such a dirty face,
My darling dirty-faced child? 
I got it from crawling along in the dirt
And biting two buttons off Jeremy's shirt.
I got it from chewing the roots of a rose
And digging for clams in the yard with my nose.
I got it from peeking into a dark cave
And painting myself like a Navajo brave.
I got it from playing with coal in the bin
And signing my name in cement with my chin.
I got if from rolling around on the rug
And giving the horrible dog a big hug.
I got it from finding a lost silver mine
And eating sweet blackberries right off the vine.
I got it from ice cream and wrestling and tears
And from having more fun than you've had in years.

 

 

Lester

By Shel Silverstein

​

Lester was given a magic wish
By the goblin who lives in the banyan tree,
And with his wish he wished for two more wishes-
So now instead of just one wish, he cleverly had three.
And with each one of these
He simply wished for three more wishes,
Which gave him three old wishes, plus nine new.
And with each of these twelve
He slyly wished for three more wishes,
Which added up to forty-six -- or is it fifty-two?
Well anyway, he used each wish
To wish for wishes 'til he had
Five billion, seven million, eighteen thousand thirty-four.
And then he spread them on the ground
And clapped his hands and danced around
And skipped and sang, and then sat down
And wished for more.
And more...and more...they multiplied
While other people smiled and cried
And loved and reached and touched and felt.
Lester sat amid his wealth
Stacked mountain-high like stacks of gold,
Sat and counted -- and grew old.
And then one Thursday night they found him
Dead -- with his wishes piled around him.
And they counted the lot and found that not
A single one was missing.
All shiny and new -- here, take a few
And think of Lester as you do.
In a world of apples and kisses and shoes
He wasted his wishes on wishing.

 

 

The Pig

By Roald Dahl

​

In England once there lived a big
And wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
He worked out sums inside his head,
There was no book he hadn't read.
He knew what made an airplane fly,
He knew how engines worked and why.
He knew all this, but in the end
One question drove him round the bend:
He simply couldn't puzzle out
What LIFE was really all about.
What was the reason for his birth? 
Why was he placed upon this earth? 
His giant brain went round and round.
Alas, no answer could be found.
Till suddenly one wondrous night.
All in a flash he saw the light.
He jumped up like a ballet dancer
And yelled, 'By gum, I've got the answer! '
'They want my bacon slice by slice
'To sell at a tremendous price! 
'They want my tender juicy chops
'To put in all the butcher's shops! 
'They want my pork to make a roast
'And that's the part'll cost the most! 
'They want my sausages in strings! 
'They even want my chitterlings! 
'The butcher's shop! The carving knife! 
'That is the reason for my life! '
Such thoughts as these are not designed
To give a pig great peace of mind.
Next morning, in comes Farmer Bland,
A pail of pigswill in his hand,
And piggy with a mighty roar,
Bashes the farmer to the floor…
Now comes the rather grisly bit
So let's not make too much of it,
Except that you must understand
That Piggy did eat Farmer Bland,
He ate him up from head to toe,
Chewing the pieces nice and slow.
It took an hour to reach the feet,
Because there was so much to eat,
And when he finished, Pig, of course,
Felt absolutely no remorse.
Slowly he scratched his brainy head
And with a little smile he said,
'I had a fairly powerful hunch
'That he might have me for his lunch.
'And so, because I feared the worst,
'I thought I'd better eat him first.'

 

 

Messy Room

By Shel Silverstein

​

Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or--
Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!

 

 

The People Upstairs

By Ogden Nash

​

The people upstairs all practise ballet
Their living room is a bowling alley
Their bedroom is full of conducted tours.
Their radio is louder than yours,
They celebrate week-ends all the week.
When they take a shower, your ceilings leak.
They try to get their parties to mix
By supplying their guests with Pogo sticks,
And when their fun at last abates,
They go to the bathroom on roller skates.
I might love the people upstairs more
If only they lived on another floor.

What Is Poetry?

There is more to poetry
Than rhythm and rhyme.
It's a window to our souls,
Undiminished by time.

It's where tears and joys
Are clearly expressed.
It's the thoughts that ordinarily
Might be repressed.

It can be set to music,
Increasing its worth,
Sending joy to the heavens
That encompass the Earth.

You can make almost anything
Become immortal
By poetic words
Sent over the portal.

So put down your thoughts
When you have inspiration.
You'll be adding your part
To the whole of creation.

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

By William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.