Archive for the ‘Poem of the Week’ Category

Poem of the Week

I know this is not a poem, but I love this song. It brings back memories from when I was little in dance class. Click here if you want to hear this song.

You Are My Sunshine

The other night dear, as I lay sleeping,
I dreamed I held you in my arms,
but when I woke dear, I was mistaken,
and I hung my head and cried.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
you make me happy when skies are gray
you’ll never know dear, how much I love you,
please don’t take my sunshine away.

I’ll always love you and make you happy
if you will only say the same
but if you leave me to love another
you’ll regret it all some day

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
you make me happy, when skies are gray,
you’ll never know dear, how much I love you,
please don’t take my sunshine away.

You told me once dear you really
loved me that no one else could come
between but now you’ve left me and
love another you have shattered
all my dreams.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
you make me happy, when skies are gray,
you’ll never know dear, how much I love you,
please don’t take my sunshine away.

Words and Music by
Jimmie Davis and Charles Mitchell
recorded in 1931
Jimmie Davis


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Poem of the Week


One night I had a dream–
I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord
and across the sky flashed scenes from my life.
For each scene I noticed two sets of footprints,
one belonged to me and the other to the Lord.
When the last scene of my life flashed before me,
I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
I noticed that many times along the path of my life,
there was only one set of footprints.
I also noticed that it happened at the very lowest
and saddest times in my life.
This really bothered me and I questioned the Lord about it.
“Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you,
you would walk with me all the way,
but I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life
there is only one set of footprints.
“I don’t understand why in times when I needed you most,
you should leave me.”
The Lord replied, “My precious, precious child,
I love you and I would never, never leave you
during your times of trial and suffering.
“When you saw only one set of footprints,
it was then that I carried you.”

…Mary Stevenson

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Poem of the Week

Remember ..

As I walk through life,
I look at all I have done.
I had wandered aimlessly,
And wondered what I have become.

I have been through so much,
It is amazing I made it through.
The lessons I have learned
I am shocked I pulled through.

The times I wondered
What life was all about.
The trials experienced in life,
Can make all the good come out.

We try to make it day by day.
Remembering what we were taught.
Just remember some time to pray,
It is important,
We need it every day.

Life can be short.
Unexpected at that.
We try to take its punches,
Just hoping it won’t break our back.

Remember who you are,
Who you want to become.
Everything will fall into place,
When the time comes.

Don’t forget I love you’s,
Every chance you get.
The time maybe short,
There is no time to regret.

Life can be exciting,
As we all have found out.
Eventful, even busy
There is no time to be left out.

Remember who you are,
And Who you want to become.
The time can be short
Don’t leave things undone.

Remember your families,
They are the only ones you’ve got.
To carry you in times of need
They can not be bought.

Remember they love you,
Either here or there.
They will always be with us.
Help for things to bear.

By: Dawn Jensen

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Poem of the Week

By Alberta Schiele

I’m just a little girl
And I really don’t understand oppression
I had never heard the word
Until it came up in my lesson

I don’t know anything about slavery
Or the joy that freedom would bring
For I’ve only been mildly discriminated against
Thanks to men like Dr. King

No I’ve never been refused a seat
In any public place
Or forced to sit in the back of a bus
Or scorned because of my race

I know I have not lived very long
But I am very sure of one thing
Life is a lot better for ALL of us

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Poem of the Week

The Road Not Taken
By Robert Frost

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

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Santa Got Stuck

Santa Got Stuck by Kenn Nesbitt

Poor Santa got stuck in our chimney. I know it sounds weird, but it’s true. His feet made it down, but his belly was one size too large for the flue. His reindeer are up on our rooftop.His sleigh is still loaded with toys. And Santa, that kindly old fellow,is making a whole lot of noise. We called the police and the sheriff. They showed up with ladders and cranes. They brought all their winches and pulleys,plus bungee cords, cables, and chains. They’re working right now to extract himby hoisting him slowly back out.It might take all day because Santais more than a little bit stout. If you don’t have presents this morning,we’re sorry you’re having to wait. But Santa’s still stuck in our chimney.He may be a day or two late. Until then, please hide all your cookies,though Santa may find this severe. At least then he’ll fit down the chimney when he comes on Christmas next year.

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Poem of the Week


The most important thing we’ve learned, So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let Them near your television set —
Or better still, just don’t install. The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we’ve been, We’ve watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about, And stare until their eyes pop out.(Last week in someone’s place we saw A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit,Until they’re hypnotised by it, Until they’re absolutely drunk , With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still, They don’t climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch, They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink — But did you ever stop to think, To wonder just exactly what,This does to your beloved tot?
‘All right!’ you’ll cry. ‘All right!’ you’ll say, ‘But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain ,Our darling children? Please explain!’
We’ll answer this by asking you, ‘What used the darling ones to do?
‘How used they keep themselves contented,Before this monster was invented?’
Have you forgotten? Don’t you know? We’ll say it very loud and slow:
THEY … USED … TO … READ! They’d READ and READ, AND READ and READ, and then proceed To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books! The nursery shelves held books galore! Books cluttered up the nursery floor! And in the bedroom, by the bed,More books were waiting to be read! Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales And treasure isles, and distant shores,Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars, And pirates wearing purple pants, And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching ’round the pot, stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be? Good gracious, it’s Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter,With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland, And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump, And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul, There’s Mr. Rate and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know, Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray, Go throw your TV set away, And in its place you can install, A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks, And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you that, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do, they’ll now begin to feel the need of having something to read. And once they start — oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy That fills their hearts. They’ll grow so keen, They’ll wonder what they’d ever seen
In that ridiculous machine, That nauseating, foul, unclean,Repulsive television screen! And later, each and every kid,Will love you more for what you did.

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