Choice
April for me I choose!
In it the old things tumble,
In it things new refresh us;
It makes a mighty rumble,-
But peace is not so precious
As that his will man shows.
April for me I choose,
Because it storms and scourges,
Because it smiles and blesses,
Because its power purges,
Because it strength possesses,-
In it the summer grows.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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April, Dear April
April, dear April, I beg you come soon –
And bring your sweet primroses too.
Let them join in with the daffodils’ play,
As skies offer sunshine anew.
April, dear April, my blessed spring child,
Ornate in your yellow and white,
Teasing the birds into trilling their songs
And dancing to music of flight.
April, dear April, come enter my dreams
And rid me from cold winter chills.
Banish the rain and those blustery winds
And warm up our countryside hills.
April, dear April, I know you can’t stay -
You have to move on ‘till next year.
And though I shall cherish the glory of summer,
You’ll always be my month most dear.
From: Succumbed to Thinking by Mark Raymond Slaughter, lulu.com
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
April April April April
April April April April
April April April April
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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About Things That Tumble
at the table
spoons and forks, knives
things tumble down
lips trembling
sad stories and handkerchiefs
tears
you know what i mean
there are three of us
one is an outpouring of
rain
we choose the sunshine and
clouds
we look at each other
you know what i mean
we understand now
there is too much about
these things that tumble
falling earth
ascending sun
and crumbling cliffs
what do we get?
what do we have to do with
all these
things that tumble down?
we help ourselves with what we have
we move on
with all that we keep
memories and the will
determination and speed
there are two of us now
the rain stops
it begins to understand
we choose
sunshine and clouds and
days.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Beggar's Prayer
Precious Lord;
I have much to ask,
and you have much to do;
But Lord,
I need your Mighty strength...
for I know not what to do.
I know my place is humble,
and you are the King of Kings;
But Lord,
I need your Mighty strength...
for I know not what to do.
I'm certain that I am unworthy,
of your mercy and saving grace;
But Lord,
I need your Mighty strength...
for I know not what to do.
I walk the road that I choose,
and stumble most of the time;
But Lord,
I need your Mighty strength...
for I know not what to do.
I want to walk your path,
and help others along the way;
But Lord,
I need your Mighty strength...
for I know not what to do.
I ask for your guidance,
in setting my feet back straight;
But Lord,
I need your Mighty strength...
for I know not what to do.
I turn to you O Lord,
with open arms and bleeding heart;
Because Lord,
I need your Mighty strength...
for You alone know what to do.
poem by George Aul
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Freedom
Freedom is something
we take at times for granted,
it is only when we have lost it
do we see how precious it is.
Walking down the street
feeling free as can be,
but suppose we could not do that.
How would we feel?
If our voice was choked
by oppression.
What then?
Never take for granted
the things we enjoy the most.
The freedom to live
the way we choose,
for one day in the future
we could lose it
unless we are careful
in the things we do.
24 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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Home Thoughts from Abroad
April in England–daffodils are growing
By every wayside, golden, tall and fair;
April–and all the little winds are blowing
The scents of springtime through the sunny air.
April in England–God, that we were there!
April in England–and her sons are lying
On these red fields, and dreaming of her shore;
April–we hear the thrushes' songs replying
Each unto each, above the cannons' roar;
April in England–shall we see it more?
April in England–there's the cuckoo calling
Down in her meadows where the cowslip gleams;
April–and little showers are softly falling,
Dimpling the surface of her babbling streams;
April in England–how the shrapnel screams!
April in England–blood and dust and smother,
Screaming of horses, men in agony.
April–full many of thy sons, O Mother,
Never again those dewy dawns shall see.
April in England–God, keep England free!
poem by Norah M. Holland
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Always Marry An April Girl
Praise the spells and bless the charms,
I found April in my arms.
April golden, April cloudy,
Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy;
April soft in flowered languor,
April cold with sudden anger,
Ever changing, ever true --
I love April, I love you.
poem by Ogden Nash
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I Choose You
In all the creation tha the creator has created
I choose you to be vulnerable to
I choose you to be broken in front of
I choose you to show the weaker side of the giant that I am
I choose you to show the inner being I never showed to any human being
At the strength of my weakness
I only have the strength to choose
My weakness is too strong to allow me to back off
My weakness is too strong to allow me to change my mind
My weakness is too strong to allow me to vacillate, oscillate or fluctuate
At the strength of my weakness
I still have a second chance to choose
I still choose you
poem by Philani Zincume
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Young William And Young April
Young William and young April
Met in the park one day.
Young William said to April,
'Why did you come this way? '
Young April said to William,
'I thought I might see you.'
Young William, then to April,
'It's funny, what you do.'
Young April gave to William
A sweet, young childhood kiss.
Young William said to April,
'Don't bother me like this.'
Young April stood in silence,
Not knowing what to do.
Then young William turned away.
Young April, torn in two.
Young William said, 'Don't follow me.'
Away from her he fled.
April then, sat down and cried,
And wished that she was dead.
William never came again.
At least, for many years.
Fearful that young April still,
Might be there shedding tears.
William walked the park again.
It seemed just like before.
Wondering if he might see her.
Young April, there once more.
Young William never noticed.
The roses hid it well.
The place they found Young April.
The place she used to dwell.
poem by Greenwolfe 1962
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April's Away.
All too soon the countryside,
Now fresh greened and sprouting more
Than spring, looks out for wider
Room, shakes it's newborn blossoms
Then ushers April to the door.
And April's away.
No longer teenage, Flora's
Grown maturer now, slightly
Deeper hued, flowers adorning
Every late spring bough, while
April, already pale, turns white,
Then April's away.
Heated by more ardent sun,
Hedgerows must have stronger feed.
Palid from work early done
April leaves, - makes way for May
To ensure Flora has her needs
Now April's away.
When April Comes!
When April comes with softly shining eyes,
And daffodils bound in her wind-blown hair,
Oh, she will coax all clouds from out the skies,
And every day will bring some sweet surprise,--
The swallows will come swinging through the air
When April comes!
When April comes with tender smile and tear,
Dear dandelions will gild the common ways,
And at the break of morning we will hear
The piping of the robins crystal clear--
While bobolinks will whistle through the days,
When April comes!
When April comes, the world so wise and old,
Will half forget that it is worn and grey;
Winter will seem but as a tale long told--
Its bitter winds with all its frost and cold
Will be the by-gone things of yesterday,
When April comes!
poem by Virna Sheard
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Ignoring A Bad Element
you go for the
good things
not really that
these good things make
you wholesome but
you only exercise your
right to choose
and then one day
this bad element
pops up and you
do not really like
it but you choose
the good element
as you once said
you choose not
to hurt you choose
the best course
greet her hello
do not say goodbye
just pretend that
you are there
that she is there
but inside you
you think about
someone else
the better one
oh, maybe not
the best, but
she is better
than nothing
you don't get rid
of things or people
you embrace them
but then
ignorance sometimes
is cooler than cool.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shunting
Shunting, hunt, hut, hunting, tin, gin, sin, it, is, in, sun, guns, sing;
And like the muse of war! !
But be very wise to choose from the right things always.
Shunting, hunts, huts, sund, hung, tins, unit, sit, hit, in, Inn, gun;
With words of peace in the land of war!
But be very wise to choose from the right things always.
Brought, bought, fought, ought, drought, wrought, nought, sought, thought;
And like beautiful doors and windows!
But be very wise to choose from the right things alway! !
because, not all that glitters is gold.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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If You Choose To Go
Theres a street outside my window
Theres a light outside my door
Theres a road straight through this old town
Theres a boat on every shore
Theres a promise down that freeway
But there is no guarantee
There are dreams on every ocean
There are storms on every sea
If you choose to go
Now Ive been out upon that ocean
Sometimes further that before
Sometimes not even past my waistline
And I screamed at what I saw
Many times along that freeway
Returning sometimes beat
There are dreams on every ocean
There are storms on every sea
If you choose to go
Plenty of places, plenty of things to see
Plenty of faces, plenty of ways to be
If you choose to go
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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APRIL and a FOOL
APRIL and a FOOL
April’s Fool day
Preceded her
April Fool’s day
by just one “fool”;
ME
That day before
I had a Life,
the next day
I had a wife;
SHE.
As April’s Fool
on April One
I said we do
and thus began
the fun.
Smiling impatiently
The Fools of April One,
‘SHE’ and ‘ME’
Became a
‘WE’ …
April Fool …
I’m single still!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Rhey W. Hedges, April 1,2007
poem by Rhey W. Hedges
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Sonnet: Choose The Things in Your Life
0 choose your friend who must be good as you;
And choose your spouse better than you; make sure;
And choose the one best as your Teacher too;
And choose ambitions that suit your nature.
0 choose the profession thats truly best;
And choose the hobbies that ne'er interfere;
And choose your Time to begin work, take rest;
And choose your enemies, you surely fear.
0 choose your food that gives extended health;
And choose your garments -comfortable wear;
And choose the honest way to added wealth;
And choose the burden right, body can bear.
0 choose the people who deserve help most;
And choose good principles, yet never boast.
poem by John Celes
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In a heavy hour
Be glad when danger presses
Each power your soul possesses!
In greater strain
Your strength shall gain,
Till greater vict'ry blesses!
Supports may break in pieces,
Your friends may have caprices,
But you shall see,
The end will be,
Your need of crutches ceases.
-'T is clear,
Whom God makes lonely,
To him He comes more near.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Junior Cowboy
Looking down on a junior cowboy
I see myself at the end of each day
Im feeling sad somehow
My rumble tumble days are over now
Took loopy loo to a paper hat party
And fought the kid who tried to take her away
Im feeling sad somehow
My rumble tumble days are over now
Running away,you dont know,you dont care
Funny the way that we change
Playing spoof at the back of the schoolyard
With no thought for the rest of the day
Im feeling sad somehow
cause my rumble tumble days are over now
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once in My Tender Years
Once in my tender years
I came to an April day
And wrote poetry by faith.
Nothing else held me close
As I held the pen
Writing from within
Simple things to embrace
I let my mind have its say
And pray that you find
Within some praise of an April day
Life is too crowed to be truly caught
But this poem makes its stay.
poem by David E. Patton
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Choose To Fly
Choose to fly!
Choose to soar...
Above the clouds,
And touch the sky.
Choose to spread your wings.
And with praises choose to sing...
To end limitations.
And what to you those limits bring.
Choose to fly.
Energize with the Sun.
Have fun.
Begin what is wished.
Do not undo that which has begun.
Choose to fly.
Look up.
Around and down!
Can accustomed conflict mixed with confusion...
Be heard from anyone?
Can it be found?
As you lift your disconnectedness,
Higher off the ground?
Can you feel a peace?
As you release...
From tensions that decrease.
Choose to fly.
Let go of that madness...
Grabbing to entrap.
To have you slapped with unhappiness.
Choose to fly.
Declare your fresh air...
Is absent of dispair.
And all boundaries have cleared for your arrival.
Choose to fly!
Choose to soar...
Above the clouds,
And touch the sky.
Let go...
And take hold of the atmosphere there.
Choose to fly.
Choose to soar.
Choose to live the life you adore,
Even more!
Choose to fly.
And break free to live your dreams.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Believe So...
does the wind choose to blow?
do rivers choose to run?
does your heart choose to beat?
i believe so...
does the earth choose to turn,
in perfect rhythm, year by year?
do the tides choose to come and go,
in cadence with the moon?
i believe so...
does society choose to be oppressed,
if only by apathy's inaction?
do we choose to let people starve
when we turn the other head?
i believe so...
do we choose war over peace,
to feed the need of greed?
do we choose to destroy nature
by our very lifestyles?
i believe so....
but can we change destiny,
and avert the final blow?
can we open our minds and hearts,
and reclaim life for the living?
i believe so...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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