Three meals plus bedtime make four sure blessings a day.
quote by Mason Cooley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Loyalty Does Not Come Cheap
We are all victims of the circumstances around us and,
Your lips took mine in the name of love!
But, what is written is already written.
Bedtime delights and bedtime love,
Bedtime stories and bedtime acts;
And like the bold and the beautiful with,
The glory of the hearts to share with each other.
The sex of the unborn child is like,
The very name of the unborn child!
But, the eleventh rain comes to make us fall asleep;
However, in this world, people call sin enjoyment.
Loyalty does not come cheap in this world,
With money at hand to put your back to the ground!
And, you have to buy your way through at times.
No matter how great or how strong a person is,
We still have enemies around us! !
However, exotic are your moves on this love;
But, we are all victims of the circumstances in this world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Bed Time
The bed time I miss
I miss when you told me to get ready for bed. I miss having you tuck me in at night., reading a bedtime story and if I was good a little melody. Then afterwards you would turn my nightlight on and say okay Kay-Kay it’s bedtime. Then you would sing a lullaby till I fell asleep. I miss your voice. I miss all the times we have spent together. I just miss you. I would give my life for you. I miss my bedtime with you. Then I miss you waking me up in the morning
“wakey-wakey, sleepy head”
poem by Makayla Straight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wrestling A Foe
To wrestle a foe is suggesting a crime,
May werewolves regulate our passes,
This time no help is at bedtime.
Your nation lies ahead as we climb,
May strangers lurk in the dark gases,
To wrestle a foe is suggesting a crime.
Combatting the burden on our mime,
May dangers damage the glasses,
This time no help is at bedtime.
Yesterday, the day was like the lime,
Will they not be sour and sweet as lasses?
To wrestle a foe is suggesting a crime.
May today ask for sentences as longtime,
Yet the nights swing in masses,
This time no help is at bedtime.
The darkness eventually arrives in the meantime,
Selling effort over as if in classes,
This time no help is at bedtime,
To wrestle a foe is suggesting a crime.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bitter Meals
cannot eat meals prepared by all hands
meals prepared of some hands cannot eat
taste of souls who prepared these meals
some prepared in love others anger swift deceit
taste of some meals sickens burns bitter not sweet
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Because we only feed in the United States less than 1 per cent of the meals, most of them are eaten elsewhere. Most meals are eaten at home. So to make McDonald's the target is not going to solve the problem.
quote by Jim Cantalupo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And be careful of this, that each day at your meals you have two overseers over your household when you sit at meals, and of this be sure, that you shall be very much feared and reverenced.
quote by Robert Grosseteste
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Are 'Bestowed' the Blessings
Remember this...
To you are bestowed the blessings.
Gifts given to which through you flow.
Those blessings are for you to share.
Your presence 'is' a blessing.
However...
Your wish to be worshipped,
As if you are The Creator...
Of the light that glows.
Is not the way it works.
Or the way it goes.
To you are 'bestowed' the blessings.
The Creator provides,
Those blessings to be bestowed.
The Creator,
Provides...
Those blessings,
To be bestowed.
Remember this...
You are 'bestowed' the blessings.
To assist.
Not create to provide.
Many get this twisted.
To stir up for themselves,
Endless conflict.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I abhor averages. I like the individual case. A man may have six meals one day and none the next, making an average of three meals per day, but that is not a good way to live.
quote by Louis D. Brandeis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blessings
Written by teddy gentry, randy owen, ronnie rogers, greg fowler
I satnd here lookin up at the starts tonight, how can one man have somuch in
Life
As I look around me, what a picture it paints, Im muchmore than lucky, i
Oughta give my thanks
Theres food on the table, a log on the fire, and in my womans eyes theres
Love and desire
The blessings, sent from above, oh, the blessings, a life full of love
When I look around I can see, all thats been given me, so ilift my eyes up
To the sky
I wanna give my, my, my, my, my thanks for the blessings
Sometimes I fall asleep at the end of the day and I forget to thank you, im
Ashamed to say
But as I lay m down to sleep, I pray the lord my soul to keep
I know you can hear me here on earth, thank you for giving me more than i
Deserve
The blessings, sent from above, oh, the blessings, a life full of love
When I look around I can see, all thats been given me, so ilift my eyes up
To the sky
cause I wanna give my, my, my, my, my thanks for the blessings
Blessings, when I look around, I can see, all thats been given me
So, I lift my eyes up to the sky, cause I wanna give my, my, my, my, my
Thanks for the blessings
The blessings, oh, the blessings
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nature's blessings Spring
Nature's blessings called Spring
Nature's blessings
Cherry trees in bloom
Cascades of colours
Floating into my room
Nature's blessings
Eruption of new life
Everywhere around
It's the eternal bound
Nature's blessings
Spring's awakening
Fills one with new hopes
Melting away sorrow slopes
Nature's blessings
Shy scarce sunbeams
Sense of survival
Swallow's arrival
Nature's blessings
Flowers popping up
It's time to hold on
For young and old
Nature's blessings
Cycle of every year
Winter months we bear
Now earthly warming
Nature's blessings
Worth all the gold
Nature's natural gift
To life we all hold
Nature's blessings called Spring
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Greedy poem Gannet
I stuff my face with poems here
The meals served up in reams
I indulge in wordy gluttony
I'm bursting at the seams
But still you serve me more and more
Just like a pushing Aunt
I eat and eat all that I can
But finish? I just can't
You cook and bake and fry and grill
The most delicious food
I want to at least try it all
So you don't think me rude
Even 'back of cupboard' tins
Will not go out if date
And if you all stopped cooking
All the meals would still taste great
There so much here to be consumed
Enough to feed the planet
I savour all I can
As I'm a greedy poem gannet
I've started cooking recently
To add into the mix
I have a mind of recipes
Do try the meals I fix!
poem by Stevie Taite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nights Are Cold, Lonely, and Long
As a damp darkness fell
Exchanged words of farewell
His phone calls are sporadic
A soldier's life is nomadic
Both are wishing time away
Seems like forever and a day
It's been fifteen months of hell
She's not holding up very well
He's away in a combat zone
She's eating meals all alone
Hugging up to a picture frame
Her bedtime isn't the same
Vivid autumn colors abound
Leaves dance to the ground
Her greatest Christmas gift
His homecoming military airlift
She prays the 23rd Psalm
Sings along to 'Cherry Bomb'
It was always their favorite song
Nights are cold, lonely, and long
poem by Charles Hancock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lesson of Life (Thanksgiving)
(dedicated to Ms. Elī na Garanč a, a great mezzo-soprano)
This autumn is so relief
I hope it is a purely day
I have spiritual sense
Inside my very heart
I would like to attend
The ceremony or travel
Long distances with my family
I hope we have a large dinner too
We are as a family
Gather together
Yes, it’s the time
To a family reunion
I invite my all family, all friends
We are happily cooking together
We are happily eating together
We are happily talking together
Sweet potatoes
Pumpkin pie
Cranberries
A turkey
When crops are gathered
We are all thank God
We would also celebrate
National Unity, the harvest
I share what I have
With those who don’t have
I provide free meals
For the poor, old people, homeless
I prepare meals for them
I serve meals for them
I give meals for them
I sing Prayer of Thanksgiving with them
(inspired by Thanksgiving Celebration)
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Returning food
(This is a fictional poem)
You keep sending your food back because you aren't satisfied.
If you send it back just once more, we are going to step outside.
You say that my food stinks but you don't realize that I'm a great chef.
My meals have caused food poisoning but they've caused no deaths.
You said that your bacon was burned and your eggs were runny.
I'm going to kick you in the crotch and you won't think it's funny.
You keep complaining about your meals, nobody likes a whiner.
You say that I cook worse than that chef who owned Mel's diner.
I'm getting pissed because of the meals that you return.
I hold the worlds record for food that causes heartburn.
poem by Randy Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I like this job - most days I have a chance to make breakfast and take the kids to school or to read 'em a bedtime story. It's almost like a normal life.
quote by Mark Harmon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Pedant
You thought I’d:
bleach
my teeth
paint
my nails
fix
my hair
prance
in heels
cook
large meals
f**k
each night
love
old friends
make
new plans –
instead I:
doubt
new plans
scorn
old friends
run
each night
miss
all meals
fall
in heels
tear
out hair
bite
plain nails
clench
back teeth
By the God of thy Father who shall help thee, and by the Almighty, who shall bless thee with blessings of heaven above, blessings of the deep that lieth under, blessings of the breasts and of the womb.
quote by John Pearson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No children can
My heart ached when saw them in hot sun
They were toiling hard and were on run
From pillars to post for two square meals
No one was prepared to offer them honorable deal
Well I was small child to see and feel
The time was not quickly passing on the wheel
It had stopped as if to test us in critical times
Father was laborer and mother a helper sometimes
They were yet in happy state
Evening meals used to be very late
She will prepare hot watery soup made of vegetables
We used to eat it together on ground table
What a courageous and lion hearted man he was?
What a woman with still resolve by his side she was?
I used to witness their smile and may run for kind hand
Over my head and feel entire world as very close friend
"We are not born to suffer" he used to reiterate
We may break the hill to make way for gate
The successful road may be ready and we shall enter
The pain and sufferings may then be thrown from the center
I was picking mustache on my boyish face
The father had everything to feel in this worldly race
I was about to fit in his dreams and mother used to smile
I knew it was their blessings and hard effort to cover the miles
I know it from heart and may not hesitate to reveal
They were illiterate parents but made me worthy and real
I can thumpingly with honor say that I am really proud
I want to make them feel as they were and speak loud
No children can turn ungrateful later on
Sweet memories move around them and are woven
That keeps them with watery eyes and remind
That here are the best people who were down to earth and kind
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blessings
Count your blessings daily.
So you know what you can lose.
The difference between what's right and wrong.
It's up to you to choose.
Just listen to your conscience.
As it lie there very still.
Are the blessings you have not worth as much.
As a cheap and worthless thrill.
A voice that speaks inside your head.
Will say that it's okay.
So you take the chance and risk it all.
Then your blessings go away.
The trust you broke, the hurt you caused.
The love that you destroyed.
You made your life a misery.
But once it gave you joy.
It's not too late to make things right.
It may take a lot of time
To pay the price for your mistakes.
It's a mountain you must climb.
So heed these words, look up above.
For everything you lost.
If you pray, repent and make things right.
You'll rise up from your cross.
One day you may get everything back.
And have everything returned.
Just know the voice that says 'It's okay'.
Is the voice that'll get you burned.
Once you find Him, then you'll know.
How to live a life that's true.
Just ask yourself this simple phrase.
'What would Jesus do? '.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Distressing Bedtime
It is now bedtime, the soldier of times,
We sleep half of the night, just tonight.
The rooms of a leap year are vast,
It was bedevilled with ghosts far too superior
To the motley crew of ghouls last year,
A clue of them died, like a crown of kings.
Distressing paws of blood escaped just past the day,
A dialect arrived by mind, of a faraway language.
The paws of a wolf became the dream of a naughty kind,
Lines of light arrived and departed.
It was now bedtime again, the very next night,
Full of mystery and suspense.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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