If you call a piece of wood 'child', you can never use it to light fire since it has become so precious.
Related quotes
Once upon a time there was a piece of wood. It was not an expensive piece of wood. Far from it. Just a common block of firewood, one of those thick, solid logs that are put on the fire in winter to make cold rooms cozy and warm.
quote by Carlo Collodi
Submitted by Simona Enache
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O Precious Lord
Oh precious Lord I call on you
Call upon your Holy name
Oh precious Lord send your Spirit now
Come and light your Holy flame
Oh precious Lord in times of need
When there's no-one else around
Oh precious Lord it seems like your not there
And there's no help to be found
Oh precious Lord, will I never learn
Whether hills or depths of seas
That I will always find you Lord
When I get upon my knees
Oh precious Lord, I call on you
And exalt your Holy name
I praise you Lord and I worship you
And I praise your Holy flame
Oh precious Lord, I call on you
Call upon your Holy name
Yesterday, today, and forever Lord
You will always be the same
poem by Frank McEleny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fire Keepers
Keep the fire burning
That's been kindled in you soul
For the fire burns the dross away
And brings forth precious gold
Shine the light the fire brings
To the darkness in the land
For the Light is the Light of the world
And the darkness flees at His command
Keep the fire of praise ablaze
To combat life's malaise
For the Lord's fire is in Zion
An Inhabiter of our praise
Take your lamp where the fire burns
Bring oil most precious and true
For the oil causes the lamp to burn
All the dark night through
Seek the Giver of unchanging fire
From Whom all blessings flow
For you know not what the day may hold
And tomorrow is not your own.
poem by Theresa Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Precious As A Child
precious as a child
nothing should be
more precious
than a child
nothing should be more
contagious than a smille
of a child
nothing should be
more cared of
than a child
childrens innocence
so often shattered
childrens love
so often flouted
nothing should be more
of importance
than a child
nothing should be more
powerfully loved by us
than a child
childrens spontaneity
so often trampled on
childrens forgiveness
so often ignored
nothing should be more
cherished in this world
than a child
nothing should be more
hugged with affection
than a child
tell me stranger
what is more
beautiful and precious
than any dear child
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Continuation
The Continuation
It is night they have all gone to bed, since I’m old and sleep little
my job is to keep the ember alive in the stove, add a piece of wood
now and then. My granddad used to do that keeping the flames
alive, so when the young got up the rooms wouldn’t be too cold.
I sit in darkness but see through curtains snow falling adding to
millions of other snowflakes, I know the children will be exited,
the adults less so. For me it doesn’t matter, but I haven’t forgotten
the pleasure of a snowy landscape. It is odd, me godless man, feel
an inner peace, everything that has happened fits together I have
meet my ghosts; nothing scares me anymore except rumours of
a new war. As a child I knew war and all its brutality, I was hoping
my grandchildren would be spared. I’m nearly falling asleep but my
granddad awakes me, whispers about my obligations, I add a piece
of wood to the fire and dream of yesteryear.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm a proud African child
I'm a pretty bud
growing out of the mud,
I'm a blessed child -
tame and free in mind,
I'm a proud African child.
I'm a precious stone,
neither am I broken nor torn,
A precious stone am I -
treasure to the nation's eye,
I'm a proud African child.
I'm a star in midnight
which gives a spark of light,
Like a diamond in the sky
I dwell with pride in the high,
I'm a proud African child.
I'm the hope for the future,
a pure seed of true virtue,
A fragrant leaf of uncorrupt nature,
A beneficiary of unlimited adventure,
I'm a proud African child.
I'm a child of God
out of doom and gloom called,
I'm more precious than gold
and even more special than a goat,
I'm really a Proud African Child.
poem by Comfort Ndlovu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Click here to listen to Precious Moments
Precious Moments My child's first steps
As he falters along
Are forever recorded
In my precious song
My child's laughter
Is music to my ear
And never forgotten
No matter what the year
My child's tiny hand
Slipped into mine
So small and soft
As we both entwine
My child's sparkling eyes
So blue and bright
Reveal when he's happy
And things are just right
My child's warm hug,
And his gentle kiss too
Add to the precious moment,
When he says, "I love you!"
poem by Evelyn Hilpp Heslin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nothing But A Child
Once upon a time
In a far off land
Wise men saw a sign
And set out 'cross the sand
With songs apraised to sing
They travled day and night
With precious gifts to bring
Guided by a light
They chased a brand new star
Ever towards the west
Over mountains far
And when it came to rest
They scarse believed their eyes
They'd come so many miles
This miracle they prized
Was nothing but a child
Nothing but a child
Could wash those tears away
Or guide a weary world
Into the light of day
And nothing but a child
Could help erase those lines
So once again we all
Can be children for a while
Now all around the world
In every little town
Every day is heard
A precious little sound
And every mother kind
And every father proud
Looks down in awe to find
Another chance allowed
And nothing but a child
Could wash those tears away
Or guide a weary world
Into the light of day
And nothing but a child
Could help erase those lines
So once again we all
Can be children for a while
song performed by by Lee Ann Womack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through The Wood
THROUGH the wood, the green wood, the wet wood, the light wood,
Love and I went maying a thousand lives ago;
Shafts of golden sunlight had made a golden bright wood
In my heart reflected, because I loved you so.
Through the wood, the chill wood, the brown wood, the bare wood,
I alone went lonely no later than last year,
What had thinned the branches, and wrecked my dear and fair wood,
Killed the pale wild roses and left the rose-thorns sere?
Through the wood, the dead wood, the sad wood, the lone wood,
Winds of winter shiver through lichens old and grey,
You ride past forgetting the wood that was our own wood
All our own--and withered as ever a flower of May.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hunger in Botany Bay
Hunger lurks down the streets of Botany Bay;
The lonely child famished and peckish cries for food
None notices the child, for they’re preoccupied with the travesty of justice in Botany Bay
An observant vagabond pays heed to the child, and shares the lone piece of bread
The child ecstatic with what’s it got, runs to its hovel
The hovel where it was raised, is full of abjection and misery
The child runs to its mother, gives the lone piece of bread
The mother in tears, tears up the piece of bread
Gives a piece to the child to satiate its hunger
Keeps the other piece for the other slumbering child
For such is the love of the mother, careless about her own hunger
Gets lost in the agony of doubt, of how she will raise her children
In this world full of misery and pain.
poem by Deepak Hiremath
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When you take a knife away from a child, give him a piece of wood instead.
My Child of the Sun
My child of the sun
i know yur scared
how far will you run
for what are you prepared?
My child of the sun
open your eyes
look infront of you
look up to the skies
My child of the sun
why are your running so far
what do you want?
A piece of the moon or a big bright star?
My child of the sun
your flames burn bright
the day has long begun
and still your out of sight
My child of the sun
here comes the moon
now you have to run
he'll be out soon
My child of the sun
you have left me
all i see now is a frowning night,
but in a few hours again i'll see the light.
poem by Carike Klokow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pecan Pie
As I, walk along and stumble,
Trains rumble in my head.
As I breathe along and grumble,
I think about you instead.
And a piece of the pecan pie
And you, that's all I want.
Just a piece of pecan pie.
And all I want is you.
Sometimes I get so hungry
I think about pie all day.
Just a little whipped cream
And honey, I'm on my way.
And a piece of the pecan pie
And you, that's all I want.
Just a piece of pecan pie.
And all I want is you.
Now don't you call me Key Lime
You're the apple of my eye
And don't you know I'll be fine
Whenever you're by my side.
And a piece of the pecan pie
And you, that's all I want.
Just a piece of pecan pie.
And all I want is you
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Few Easy Pieces
Piece of this
piece of that
Peace and bliss,
Piece of crap
Peace of mind,
Piece of cake,
piece of work
Piece of steak,
Piece of eight
Piece of the action
Piece of the pie
Peace and satisfaction
Piece in the valley
Piece of glass
piece of my mind
Piece of a….
That’s quite enough now! ! !
Let’s quit this dance
Let’s stop while we’re ahead…
Let’s Give peace a chance
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How it happened that Mastro Cherry, carpenter, found a piece of wood that wept and laughed like a child.
quote by Carlo Collodi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Are Precious
Every child’s, a precious one!
Every spouse, a precious one;
Every sibling, a precious one;
For, most have small, a family norm!
Every parent’s, a precious one!
Every student’s, a precious one!
Every teacher, a precious one;
For, most have small, a family norm!
Every worker’s, a precious one!
Every inmate, a precious one;
Every colleague, a precious one;
For, most have small, a family norm!
Every person’s, a precious one!
Every life, a precious one;
Every soul, a precious one;
For, most have small, a family norm!
So, take all care of every life,
And don’t take undue risks at all;
Life’s most precious thing on earth;
For, most have small, a family norm!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 24-10-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poet
Every day cloud burst over my head
Every day I die,
every day I dance In a dark room
of sorrow and happiness
Into the light, I shy//
Why to weep and why to cry
Under the veiled canopy of false hood
Still, at some precious moment
I have a movement
Into the deep dense wood//
With a naked thought of a child
A pawn like pen,
A chess board like a paper
Desirous Victory winning bard
Under thy Cord, O my Lord////
poem by Aftab Alam Khursheed
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Piece Of You
Im just trying to live this life of mine
The more I look, the more Im blind
And all I ask for is piece of mind
And all I want is a piece of you
Well I lost my way today
Back home from work
The snow fell like dust
I felt like dirt
Happens everytime I start to search
For that long lost piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
It seems the last time I was sure
Of anything
I sold my heart
I wore your ring
But now, the queen has lost her king
All I want is a piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Choriambics II
Here the flame that was ash, shrine that was void,
lost in the haunted wood,
I have tended and loved, year upon year, I in the solitude
Waiting, quiet and glad-eyed in the dark, knowing that once a gleam
Glowed and went through the wood. Still I abode strong in a golden dream,
Unrecaptured.
For I, I that had faith, knew that a face would glance
One day, white in the dim woods, and a voice call, and a radiance
Fill the grove, and the fire suddenly leap . . . and, in the heart of it,
End of labouring, you! Therefore I kept ready the altar, lit
The flame, burning apart.
Face of my dreams vainly in vision white
Gleaming down to me, lo! hopeless I rise now. For about midnight
Whispers grew through the wood suddenly, strange cries in the boughs above
Grated, cries like a laugh. Silent and black then through the sacred grove
Great birds flew, as a dream, troubling the leaves, passing at length.
I knew
Long expected and long loved, that afar, God of the dim wood, you
Somewhere lay, as a child sleeping, a child suddenly reft from mirth,
White and wonderful yet, white in your youth, stretched upon foreign earth,
God, immortal and dead!
Therefore I go; never to rest, or win
Peace, and worship of you more, and the dumb wood and the shrine therein.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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