Last Commented Family Poems (502)

My last will and Testament


I leave to my children not money or material things
But Love, Honor, Trust, and Respect, and Pride
For these are the true values in life
May they always trust in the Lord?
And each day they awaken to a new dawn
They give thanks for all that they have received
May they always respect mother earth for all she
Has provide for them
May there hearts be filled with love for each other
These are my most valuable things in life
I now leave these things in there hands to pass on
To the next generation with love
From
YOU’RE MOTHER
Written By
Dorothy Calvert
Copyrights ©

Lord build me a house that we can call home and strong enough to weather the storms of life

Lord build me a home where my children and neighbors can feel safe, healthy and strong

Let love abound with out stretched arms to embrace and give lots of hugs

Lord build me a home where warmth and love is wrapped around my heart like a cozy blanket

Teach us that working in unisom allows us to grow and go

Lord build me a home where there are no barriers that impedes progress or prosperity

Help us to function, perform and advance

Lord build us a home strong enough to withstand the pitfalls of unacceptable thoughts and behaviors

Lord build us a home not just of bricks and mortar, but also of love, satiability, tolerance and free of pain

Thank you O’ Lord for the gift of life and for the love and support of each other

Thank you O’ Lord for helping us to recognize a place we can call home

Why's it one goe's ahead an one slows behind, is she holdin an makin her mind, the fast wind she's there, the blowin slow, yes she's care, just in thought, yeah it's her prime knowing that for all there's a time. . . . a twin never parts, forever connected hearts two left of three, still a trio u'll be! What's she see . . . a three in two an blessed you'll both be! :)

It is not a big deal to start, anything
Even if we are not aware about its result
It may be the first reason to ruin our life
We will recognize that
we never wants to continue, after it started
And we cannot stop it, at the right time
bcaz it is not easy to stop as it, we started...

My lungs cut deep
into the sharp freshness of the new day,
my eyes dancing across the horizon
entranced by the reawakening of the sun.

As darkness cedes to light
a plethora of autumnal colors
flows across the land,
bringing with it
a sense of rebirth

The choir of emerald
reflects the delicate golden hues.
Embellished with diamonds
kissed by the sun,
the leaves shimmer with anticipation.
A gentle wind brushes my face,
teasing my senses with its
lilac scented touch.

From nocturnal concealment
the predawn exaltation
joins my rejoicing.
Their songs alive
with the joy of creation
and their intrinsic concupiscence
thus generated.

The rouged pastels of sunlight
penetrate my imagination,
stimulating thrills and emotions
long buried by ignorance

Only the eyes of a child see
within the dawn
the originality of a world reborn.
I look
through your eyes,
my own
once materially blinded
as the real World ebbed past me.

Sleep well my cherubim.
Too late I realized
your wisdom and insight.
My shackled mind failed
to recognize
what majesty surrounds me.

Your five short years
of brilliant light
are multiplied
by my lifetime of regret

Remembering your last hours
how I promised to see the world
with untainted vision.
To greet each day like the eve of creation,
to ingest the vitality
of each new beginning,
so becoming truly alive.

The trembling of chill passes
as the suns
crimson fingers
surround me,
Its warmth enveloping
in creamy amber embrace.
I know you are here,
within the lilac winds caress
I feel your sweet kiss,
the dawn chorus resounds
with melodies of your impassioned heart,
the suns touch overflowing
with the warmth of your love

Though I know you are with me
I miss you in life
you will always be
the eternal inspiration,
my Angel in the dawn.

Where Old Men Sit

Did you see that youth who passed you by
even though his pace was true and fast,
Did you watch him from your ancient eye
knowing his speed would never last?

Did you as a teenager show the same grit
when you played a young man’s game,
Did his arrogance rile your aged spirit
though long ago you were the same?

Would you care to know what became of him
that young man who like a wisp of smoke,
With handsome features and muscles trim
passed you by daily yet never spoke?

He’s led a full life that impetuous boy
though sometimes he was mistaken,
When with the ladies he felt such joy
more often than not was forsaken!

Treasures galore have blessed his life
like quicksilver spent on luxuriance,
When all had gone he felt no strife
for he wasted it with exuberance!

If you ask him of his greatest prize
he would answer with little hesitation,
Though not as simple as you might surmise
his reply would be, his many children!

Now in later years he will always compete
to be among the first on a daily visit,
To the rustic place where his cronies meet
that favoured bench, where old men sit!

sonofadam

The Proud Cemetery

When Winter ice begins to slither
and Jack Frost begins to dither
when April has its annual shower
and daffodils begin to quiver.

When windy days have lost their shiver
and gangs of sparrows start to gather
when thoughts come to a loving father
and he knows he has a good daughter.

When Winter clothing goes in the drawer
and a young man is glad he saw her
when nature urges all things hither
and lustful loins begin to shudder.

When all this has turned to Summer
and two young bodies come together
when the young man is glad he won her
and the good daughter's to be a mother.

When Autumn comes but feels like Winter
and the young man then forsakes her
when she turns to her dad for shelter
and he says "You're not my daughter!"

When she feels all the world disowns her
and then she meets an out of towner
when he supplies her with a booster
and she takes it and takes it further.

When she finally ends up like a dosser
and dirty legs galore go across her
when she dies of Aids just like a leper
and her grave reads "Beloved Daughter!"

sonofadam

Fear Of A Child

The rain taps the window as the wind blows
and the fear of the child goes on and grows.
So glad that he's here safe in his bed
yet his eyes are wide and full of dread,
at those unseen monsters out in the night
oh why did his mother put out the light?
He shivers a little he's losing control
his eyes are watching, they're on patrol.
What's that at the window, is it a face
is someone trying to get into our place?
Blind panic makes him throw off the cover
and run with tears and sobs to his mother
who had heard him cry and come to see
"Don't be silly" she said "It's only me!"

sonofadam

The Awakening

Suddenly a baby cries in my vigilant ear
yet I, in cosiness, pretend I cannot hear.
Saying to myself "It's not my turn yet!"
Not thinking that She is bound to forget
or like me is pretending to be asleep still,
knowing that soon I will have had my fill.
First to snap and rise in a rage growling
I confront the child in the cot, cowering.
But at sight of this bundle, eyes so wide
I feel a parent's shame deep down inside.
Gently as I lift and hold our infant I feel
my blood slowly awakening, I then reveal
a love from my heart that is rarely shown
and a pride in myself I have never known.
The clearing of a throat in the nearby bed
causes natural curiosity to turn my head.
I see a face in a hand leaning on an elbow
with two moist eyes in a look I well know.
She pats the sheet to where I should lie,
we snuggle up, all three, lest a baby cry!

Sonofadam

A gift from the soul simple and pure
our honesty that does assure
there is no cloaks
nothing to hide
honesty is to respect
holding what matters with deepest pride