ninjasabby's blog: "poems"

Life as Baseball © By Shannon M. Daley Life is a game of baseball, It'll throw you for a curve, Sometimes you may trip and fall, But you'll get what you deserve. When you step up to the plate, You don't know at which you'll swing, But for all you know, It may not mean a thing. You might end with a walk, Or maybe you'll get a run, You may not end, Until you're back where you begun.

Friends Forever © By Mary Karamyan Friend poems A friend is a treasure that everyone has Sometimes they come, sometimes they pass Your friends will stay if you don't betray or lie Or leave them behind Just put this on your mind A friend is what you need To succeed in this life In this world were you can't live you can't breath Life will be unfair but your friend will be there To give you hope, and faith And a path that is right to take This will lead you to your dreams That you never thought would come true That is being friends forever with you. Sometimes you forget What your friend has done You just stab them in the back And leave them behind But when it comes to them And they don't do the same You just turn your back And do it again But one sunny day You will be alone Then you will realize that all you once had is gone.

Friendship Poem WHAT IS A FRIEND © By HARRY SMITH A friend is someone who understands and someone you can trust. They will listen to you both night and day without ever making a fuss. A friend will stand by your side when you are right and sometimes when you are wrong. They will hold you up when you are weak and provide support to make you strong. A friend's love is unconditional and unique in every way. And when you have problems a true friend will kneel with you and pray. A friend will stand by your side through thick and thin. And whenever everyone have deserted you they still will be your friend. A friend once said to me that a friend is sent from God above and I believe this to be true. Because God has sent a friend to me and that friend to me is YOU.

IN FLANDERS FIELDS BY COL JOHN McCRAE In Flanders Fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved, and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch, be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields

Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822) Ozymandias I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings, Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away."

Edmund Spenser Sonnet 30 My love is like to ice, and I to fire: How comes it then that this her cold is so great Is not dissolved through my so hot desire, But harder grows the more I her entreat? Or how comes it that my exceeding heat Is not allayed by her heart frozen cold, But that I burn much more in boiling sweat, And feel my flames augmented manifold? What more miraculous thing may be told, That fire which all things melts should harden ice: And ice which is congealed with senseless cold, Should kindle fire by wonderful device? Such is the power of love in gentle mind, That it can alter all the course of kind.

Constance Fenimore Woolson Love Unexpressed The sweetest notes among the human heart-strings are dull with rust; The sweetest chords, adjusted by the angels, are clogged with dust; We pipe and pipe again our dreary music upon the self-same strains, While sounds of crime, and fear, and desolation, come back in sad refrains. On through the world we go, an army marching with listening ears, Each longing, sighing, for the heavenly music he never hears; Each longing, sighing, for a word of comfort, a word of tender praise, A word of love, to cheer the endless journey of earth's hard, busy days. They love us, and we know it; this suffices for reason's share. Why should they pause to give that love expression with gentle care? Why should they pause? But still our hearts are aching with all the gnawing pain Of hungry love that longs to hear the music, and longs and longs in vain. We love them, and they know it; if we falter, with fingers numb, Among the unused strings of love's expression, the notes are dumb. We shrink within ourselves in voiceless sorrow, leaving the words unsaid, And, side by side with those we love the dearest, in silence on we tread. Thus on we tread, and thus each heart in silence its fate fulfils, Waiting and hoping for the heavenly music beyond the distant hills. The only difference of the love in heaven from love on earth below Is: Here we love and know not how to tell it, and there we all shall know

Emily Brontë Love and Friendship Love is like the wild rose-briar, Friendship like the holly-tree— The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms But which will bloom most constantly? The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring, Its summer blossoms scent the air; Yet wait till winter comes again And who will call the wild-briar fair? Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now And deck thee with the holly's sheen, That, when December blights thy brow, He may still leave thy garland green.

Footprints in the Sand One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there were one set of footprints. This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints. So I said to the Lord, “You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there have only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?” The Lord replied, “The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand, is when I carried you.” Mary Stevenson