The Death Of The Fly
WITH eagerness he drinks the treach'rous potion,
Nor stops to rest, by the first taste misled;
Sweet is the draught, but soon all power of motion
He finds has from his tender members fled;
No longer has he strength to plume his wing,
No longer strength to raise his head, poor thing!
E'en in enjoyment's hour his life he loses,
His little foot to bear his weight refuses;
So on he sips, and ere his draught is o'er,
Death veils his thousand eyes for evermore.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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Give Me Strength
This is my prayer to thee, my lord---strike,
strike at the root of penury in my heart.
Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows.
Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service.
Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before insolent might.
Give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles.
And give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore

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From the Drama of “Charles II”
COME and kiss me, mistress Beauty,
I will give you all that ’s due t’ye.
I will taste your rosebud lips
Daintily as the bee sips;
At your bonny eyes I ’ll look
Like a scholar at his book:
On my bosom you shall rest,
Like a robin on her nest:
Round my body you shall twine,
I ’ll be elm, and you be vine:
In a bumper of your breath
I would drain a draught of death;
In the tangles of your hair
I ’d be hanged and never care.
Then come kiss me, mistress Beauty,
I will give you all that ’s due t’ ye.
poem by Douglas Brooke Wheelton Sladen

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Wind makes me just as Fire
The wind makes me feel-
finally free
The stronger it hits my skin-
the more vividly I see
The fire is inside of me
I go outside-
and touch the wind
Hearing cracks and licks-
as if being whipped
I raise my hands-
yearning so much freedom
My eyes shut
Not knowing what it is I've done-
I realize
Watching this fire in black darkness
And behind closed eyes-
I hear the whips-
and see the rage
Fire is angry
It wants just as much freedom as I
And there-
I understand
In a trance-
I watch this as if it were my child
This fire is my strength
Having all the courage and the power to break free
-yet-
My body refuses to let go
To let this 'thing' called strength take over
And this wind-
it shows me
It shows me what I keep
I keep my fire-
I keep my power
Wind makes me realize-
The strength that I keep is as strong as fire
poem by Monique Hillebrecht

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Death
Why should man's high aspiring mind
Burn in him with so proud a breath,
When all his haughty views can find
In this world yields to death?
The fair, the brave, the vain, the wise,
The rich, the poor, the great, and small,
Are each but worm's anatomies
To strew his quiet hall.
Power may make many earthly gods,
Where gold and bribery's guilt prevails,
But death's unwelcome, honest odds
Kick o'er the unequal scales.
The flattered great may clamours raise
Of power, and their own weakness hide,
But death shall find unlooked-for ways
To end the farce of pride,
An arrow hurtled eer so high,
From een a giant's sinewy strength,
In Time's untraced eternity
Goes but a pigmy length;
Nay, whirring from the tortured string,
With all its pomp of hurried flight,
Tis by the skylark's little wing
Outmeasured in its height.
Just so man's boasted strength and power
Shall fade before death's lightest stroke,
Laid lower than the meanest flower,
Whose pride oer-topt the oak;
And he who, like a blighting blast,
Dispeopled worlds with war's alarms
Shall be himself destroyed at last
By poor despised worms.
Tyrants in vain their powers secure,
And awe slaves' murmurs with a frown,
For unawed death at last is sure
To sap the babels down.
A stone thrown upward to the sky
Will quickly meet the ground agen;
So men-gods of earth's vanity
Shall drop at last to men;
And Power and Pomp their all resign,
Blood-purchased thrones and banquet halls.
Fate waits to sack Ambition's shrine
As bare as prison walls,
Where the poor suffering wretch bows down
To laws a lawless power hath passed;
And pride, and power, and king, and clown
Shall be Death's slaves at last.
Time, the prime minister of Death!
There's nought can bribe his honest will.
He stops the richest tyrant's breath
And lays his mischief still.
Each wicked scheme for power all stops,
With grandeurs false and mock display,
As eve's shades from high mountain tops
Fade with the rest away.
Death levels all things in his march;
Nought can resist his mighty strength;
The palace proud, triumphal arch,
Shall mete its shadow's length.
The rich, the poor, one common bed
Shall find in the unhonoured grave,
Where weeds shall crown alike the head
Of tyrant and of slave.
poem by John Clare

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An Old Man Can Be A Poor Man/ An Old Man Can Be A Rich Man
AN OLD MAN CAN BE A POOR MAN/AN OLD MAN CAN BE A RICH MAN
An old man can be a poor man-
He can complain of his pains and problems-
He can think only of all the powers
He no longer has.
An old man can be a poor man
And remember how he loved once
And know he will never love again
And feel infinitely sad at life gone.
An old man can be a rich man-
He can bless the pleasures life still gives,
He can know how to smile,
And know how to laugh-
He can know how to give to those he cares for,
If not of the money he does not have
Nor the physical strength no longer his,
But of the love and the wisdom and the kindness,
He is still blessed with.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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The Strength Within
The dark clouds are filling the skies.
The rain will soon settle in.
My sorrow then begins to rise.
Find strength within, find strength within.
All of the mountains are steeper ahead,
And I've struggled thust far I've been.
I calmly lower my head.
Find strength within, find strength within.
The world around me is dying.
Surrender is conquering a thousand men.
The life within me is crying.
Find strength within, find strength within.
I use to wonder when I'd walk my last mile,
Until I found Jesus, my friend.
Now there's a reason to smile!
I've found strength within, I've found strength within.
poem by Whitney Albright

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Dead Memory
Your memory no longer lingers through my life.
You were there once and now your gone.
Your memory has died like a rose when it is cut from the rest of the world.
Your torns no longer cut my heart.
My voice no longer whispers you name,
I no longer look for you in other people in other faces.
I no longer dream of you or wish that I see you once again.
My heart no longer cries or bleeds for you, not no more.
You no longer haunt my dreams or my memories.
I finally found someone that keeps me warm at night,
I finally found someone who has helped me erase your memory.
I no longer fall and stumble but I now walk tall.
Your memory was a weight that I carried through out time
that now I am free.
I can say that I no longer love you, for you are a dead memory
poem by Elizabeth Gaytan

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Don't Underestimate The Power Of...
Don’t Underestimate The Power
Of Your Embrace
The Power You Hold
In That Timeless Place
When My World Stops
At Your Wonderful Touch
Suspended In Rapture
With You, Giving So Much
… Strength and Comfort
And Tender Care
Don’t Underestimate
The Power There …
Don’t Underestimate The Power
Of Holding Hands
A Symbol-Bond, Saying,
‘Together, We Stand’
As We Share and Show
As One, We Plan
To Face The Future
With GOD … ‘We Can’
Don’t Underestimate The Power
Of Seeing Your Face
Eyes of Night-Skies
And Lips Of Berries’ Taste
Those Mystery Eyes
When They Meet With Mine
Passion Pours
As Our Lips, Wine and Dine …
Don’t Underestimate The Power
Of Our Hearts
Don’t Underestimate The Power
O Love’s Great Art
Tho’ The Heart, May Be Struck
With 10,000 Darts
Love, Has The Power To Make It
To Never Break Apart!
Don’t Underestimate The Power
Of Your Embrace
Don’t Underestimate The Power
Of Your Sweet Face
Don’t Underestimate The Power
Of Pure, Sweet Love
It, Is What, Holding Hands and Hearts
And Hopes Are Made Of
* * * *
(Don’t Underestimate …
The Power Of Even This …
Poetic Notes, Sealed With A Kiss
Words Spoken In Lover’s Bliss
A Whispered Wish, I Insist
Is Also, On The ‘Don’t Underestimate List …
So, Just Don’t Underestimate The Powers
Of A Love, So Strong and True, As Ours …)
Written & ©: 4/18/10
By: MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady

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Philippians 4: 13
The strength to resist the night
The strength to endure the day
The strength to keep righteous paths in sight
The strength to take them without delay
The strength to find a purpose in life
The strength to find the truths it brings
The strength to kick away from strife
The strength to stabalize the rock it clings
The strength to light a friend’s day up
The strength to resist wrathful foes
The strength to fill a stranger’s dry cup
The strength to shun sin when it opposed
The strength to feel a injured man’s pain
The strength to hold a reject’s hand
The strength to act against any gain
The strength to love without demand
The strength to understand that our King
Has blessed us with more than we can contain
Therefore regardless what time may bring
The strength will continue to reign
poem by Anders Lim

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Love and Beauty
Power is strength
Strength is wisdom
Wisdom is love
Love is beauty
Whenever i see you
All i see is love
I listen too,
All i hear is my life
You are the only one
You are my life
Every word you say
Is a symphony
Your eyes sparkle
Like the moon shine on the lake
Your lips as soft as my pillow
I lay my head on your chest
Two hearts beat at once
Like a potion i have drank
I see you everyday
Love you cannot rank
The beauty you endure
So much but so good
I thank God for giving me this gift; This miracle
You are so beautiful to me
You hold my hearts key
I never said these words before
I love you; you're the one i adore
poem by Alicia Moore

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Freedom (1960's)
To stand forth in strength;
The strength of wisdom,
The strength of knowledge,
The strength of power,
The strength to stand tall,
The strength to say nay,
The strength to be proud,
To be strong, able and wise,
Down this road true freedom lies...
poem by Karl Stuart Kline

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Winter Stores
We take from life one little share,
And say that this shall be
A space, redeemed from toil and care,
From tears and sadness free.
And, haply, Death unstrings his bow
And Sorrow stands apart,
And, for a little while, we know
The sunshine of the heart.
Existence seems a summer eve,
Warm, soft, and full of peace;
Our free, unfettered feelings give
The soul its full release.
A moment, then, it takes the power,
To call up thoughts that throw
Around that charmed and hallowed hour,
This life's divinest glow.
But Time, though viewlessly it flies,
And slowly, will not stay;
Alike, through clear and clouded skies,
It cleaves its silent way.
Alike the bitter cup of grief,
Alike the draught of bliss,
Its progress leaves but moment brief
For baffled lips to kiss.
The sparkling draught is dried away,
The hour of rest is gone,
And urgent voices, round us, say,
' Ho, lingerer, hasten on !'
And has the soul, then, only gained,
From this brief time of ease,
A moment's rest, when overstrained,
One hurried glimpse of peace ?
No; while the sun shone kindly o'er us,
And flowers bloomed round our feet,
While many a bud of joy before us
Unclosed its petals sweet,
An unseen work within was plying;
Like honey-seeking bee,
From flower to flower, unwearied, flying,
Laboured one faculty,
Thoughtful for Winter's future sorrow,
Its gloom and scarcity;
Prescient to-day, of want to-morrow,
Toiled quiet Memory.
'Tis she that from each transient pleasure
Extracts a lasting good;
'Tis she that finds, in summer, treasure
To serve for winter's food.
And when Youth's summer day is vanished,
And Age brings Winter's stress,
Her stores, with hoarded sweets replenished,
Life's evening hours will bless.
poem by Charlotte Brontë from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846)

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Master And Servant
The devil to Bacchus said, one day,
In a scowling, growling, petulant way,
As he came from earth to hell:
'There's a soul above that I cannot move,
And I've struggled long and well;
He's a manly youth, with an eye of truth,
A fellow of matchless grace;
And he looks me through with his eye of blue
Till I cower before his face.
The very power and strength of heaven
To this young, fearless soul were given;
For I've never an art that can reach his heart,
And I cannot snare his feet:
I have wasted days in devising ways,
And now must cry 'Defeat!''
And the devil scowled, and grumbled, and growled,
And beat about with his cane,
Till the demons fled over the burning waste
Out of his reach in hurrying haste,
Howling aloud in pain.
Bacchus laughed as he stooped and quaffed
A burning bumper of wine:
'Why, master,' said he, 'you soon shall see
The fellow down at your shrine;
Long ago, if you'd let me know,
We'd had him in our ranks.
And now, adieu! while I work for you;
Don't hurry about your thanks!
I'm going above; you know they love
The sight of my glowing face.
They call me a god! ho! ho! how odd!
With this for my dwelling-place.'
A youth with a dower of manly grace,
A maid with the morning in her face;
And she filleth a goblet full to the brim,
And giveth the bubbling draught to him.
'Drink!' she says, and the goblet sways
And shimmers under his eyes.
He tries to speak, but the tongue is weak,
And the words sink into sighs;
For the maid is fair, and she holds him there
With a spell that he cannot flee:
'Drink!' and she sips with her ruby lips-
'Drink but a draught with me.'
And the lovers quaffed, while the demons laughed,
And Bacchus laughed loud and long.
'Ho! ho!' cried he, 'what a victory!
Ho! ho! for the soul so strong
That my master was beat, and cried 'Defeat!'
But wine is a tempter, and love is sweet.'
Bacchus went back o'er the fiery track
Into the land below;
And the devil said, 'Well, what have you to tell
Of the thing I want to know?'
And Bacchus said he, 'Why, look and see!
There is your strong, brave youth
Reeling along, with a drunken song
Staining those lips of truth.
My work is done! You must go on
And finish the job I started;
And as long as I stay in your service, pray,
Don't ever be down-hearted.'
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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Power Of My Love (Alternate Take 3)
Oh break it, burn it, drag it all around
Twist it, turn it, you can't tear it down
Cos' every minute, every hour you'll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
Crush it, kick it, you can never win
I know baby you can't lick it
I'll make you give in
Every minute, every hour you'll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
Baby I want you, you'll never get away
My love will haunt you yes haunt you night and day
Touch it, pound it, what good does it do
There's just no stoppin' the way I feel for you
Cos' every minute, every hour you'll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
Yeh, yeh, baby I want you, you'll never get away
My love will haunt you yes haunt you night and day
Touch it, pound it, what good does it do
There's just no stoppin' the way I feel for you
Cos' every minute, every hour you'll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
I said every minute, every hour you'll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
Every minute, every hour you'll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
song performed by by Elvis Presley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Eagle of the Blue
ALOFT he guards the starry folds
Who is the brother of the star;
The bird whose joy is in the wind
Exulteth in the war.
No painted plume—a sober hue,
His beauty is his power;
That eager calm of gaze intent
Foresees the Sibyl’s hour.
Austere, he crowns the swaying perch,
Flapped by the angry flag;
The hurricane from the battery sings,
But his claw has known the crag.
Amid the scream of shells, his scream
Runs shrilling; and the glare
Of eyes that brave the blinding sun
The volleyed flame can bear.
The pride of quenchless strength is his—
Strength which, though chained, avails;
The very rebel looks and thrills—
The anchored Emblem hails.
Though scarred in many a furious fray,
No deadly hurt he knew;
Well may we think his years are charmed—
The Eagle of the Blue.
poem by Herman Melville

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It's no longer I
It's no longer I that lives, But Christ lives in me,
Because I'm born again, and from my sins, I am, free;
Christ is my strength, and power, and He renews every day,
So I can say with full assurance, I cope thru Him alway.
It's. Not me working, But the power of His Resurrection,
That I can do all things, thru His death has given me Redemption;
He is my strength and shield, I can banish satan, I'm no need of him,
He is just a problem, but can't control me, I've been washed of my sin.
It isn't a problem. For me. To speak, Christ speaks thru' me,
I'm just His instrument, to serve and to witness, that from sin, all an be free;
All that needs to be done, is ask forgiveness, and Christ to come in,
And He will take the sinner, change them, and renew them within.
poem by Margaret Haig

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Power Of My Love
(words & music by b. giant - b. baum - f. kaye)
Oh break it, burn it, drag it all around
Twist it, turn it, you cant tear it down
Cos every minute, every hour youll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
Crush it, kick it, you can never win
I know baby you cant lick it
Ill make you give in
Every minute, every hour youll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
Baby I want you, youll never get away
My love will haunt you yes haunt you night and day
Touch it, pound it, what good does it do
Theres just no stoppin the way I feel for you
Cos every minute, every hour youll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
Yeh, yeh, baby I want you, youll never get away
My love will haunt you yes haunt you night and day
Touch it, pound it, what good does it do
Theres just no stoppin the way I feel for you
Cos every minute, every hour youll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
I said every minute, every hour youll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
Every minute, every hour youll be shaken
By the strength and mighty power of my love
song performed by by Elvis Presley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Eagle and The Bear
The eagle's strength to compare that
of the bear this is how they fair the bear
can rip apart anything standing there
yet the eagle can fly through the air
the mighty physical strength of the bear must
stay on the ground in a limited area
around yet the eagle's strength of us do share
it's in every heart and on something's we wear
it shows the strength of the eagle for all to share
the eagle and the bear.
poem by David J. Pipkin

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Heavyweights
Each rhino stands a bulky beast,
My word, they sure stand out!
They start off big, then they're increased,
Then spread their weight about...
Yes, heavyweights, that's how it is!
Their strength self-evident...
To them, their weight seems not amiss,
That's just the way it went!
The rhino's horn is his defence,
It's like an afterthought...
Against the ones who aren't his friends,
So that he won't get caught...
And at forty miles an hour,
Well, you try matching that!
Who can comprehend his power?
With one foot he'd squash you flat...
No wonder that he eats a lot,
So he can run at length...
He's fat, yet doesn't care one jot,
He must keep up his strength!
Well, I'm glad I'm not a rhino,
As bulky as can be...
'Cos I'm quite thin in fact and so
I'm happy being me!
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Heavyweights'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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Strength From God
As more darkness looms ahead, I will look to my Savior instead,
For God’s strength, one more time, in this trial, not of my design,
And as God’s done before, strength He’ll supply and much more,
As God leads me through the night, in His strength and His might.
My own endurance through this trial, will not last, there’s no denial,
God’s resources, I can’t deplete, so in God, my strength’s replete.
With His strength He gives peace, that, from God, shall not cease,
As He’s helped me in past days, He’ll strengthen me to His praise.
Though weak and frail, I may be, that strength that God grants me,
Helps me through minute to hour, not through mine but His power,
Divine power, He extends by grace, for each and every trial I face,
Through the strength of The Lord, I know my ways will be restored.
Through my own strength I would fall, but, He is Lord God over all,
Over all the ways, within my life, as I follow The Lord, Jesus Christ,
Who guides me each and every day, lighting even the darkest way,
By God, dark days are not ignored, for I’m led by Christ, my Lord,
When I am weak, He is strong, so following God, I can’t go wrong;
Grace God sends by His design, into my life, at just the right time,
So never is it too early or too late, as for God’s grace I never wait,
For He Who cares so much for me, is The Lord God, over Eternity.
(Copyright ©02/2011)