Through Hands Of Time
‘Early in the morning, just around supper time.’
Contrasts are good, to make children laugh.
There is something in an opposing rhyme.
Which appeals to a gleeful childhood mind.
There are wise lessons learned in nursery rhymes.
Morals taught best with humour as they ought.
Powerful wonderful images, a child’s mind binds.
Ancient teaching passed down, through hands of time.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Related quotes
Children's Special...
Every child is born with a gift,
and there is a day to celebrate it.
A child is your treasure given by God,
Be blessed so, and pray to the Lord,
for that child gives you happiness,
Gone are your day's of loneliness.
Childhood does not last,
Every child remembers the past,
It depends on how you groom,
Give the child more than a room.
A child carries an ocean of innocence,
not knowing it's consequence,
does a deed that is not desired,
Many parents have always admired.
Thinking of a day for children,
is a wonderful thought,
Cherish every moment of what they have brought,
to you with their playful minds,
which do leave a trail of joy in your mind.
Remember your own childhood days,
make it more than special today,
make the children feel how good you felt that day,
when you celebrated the children's day,
in your childhood days.
poem by Deepak Calyampoondi

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Where The Problem Is
There use to be a time,
When people passed off anything...
And found it acceptable.
Today those same people,
Who found anything and everything done acceptable...
Are seeking explanations amongst themselves,
As to why those they have selected to represent them...
Seem less qualified to audition for characters portrayed,
In any nursery rhymes they have ever told to their children.
And...
The ones who are trying to snap them 'into' reality,
Can not say it loud enough...
That everything that has been sweetened to eat,
And given to them to nourish...
Has had damaging effects,
On the maintaining of their mental health.
Yet...
STILL they wish to keep the same story lines told,
But they wish to have the ones telling those nursery rhymes...
To depict the exact images in their minds,
That have never existed.
Although they seek 'anyone' besides those who are truthful,
To deliver the goods.
With a comfort for them that is understood.
There use to be a time,
When people passed off anything...
And found it acceptable.
But these times lived can no longer depend on myths.
People are challenged to be real with themselves.
And that's where the problem is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Your grandchild has tougher lessons to teach
When your child was born
You might have learned certain lessons
As he or she was growing
The child would have been
Teaching lessons
Which you were not learning
From anywhere else
You would have found the lessons
Tough and difficult to absorb
As basics and fundamentals
Language used by the faculty
Methodology of teaching
Were quite different
Most of the time unstructured
Unmindful of your moods
The teacher would have kept you
Loaded with lessons difficult to decipher
The classes were far unique and
Very specially different
From any of the formal institution
Which were preparing you
For making a life
The lessons here aimed at
Making you live fully alive and aware of
Absolute realities
You would agree
Learning these never made you tired
And you were enthusiastically looking for
New lessons to come up
By the time
Your child has grown up
And stopped teaching you any further
Your grand child arrives
Now the lessons turn tougher still
Despite all the experiences in life and living
Your learning is quite difficult now
The teacher is in a great hurry
And often keeps changing
The course of lessons
You find new reasons
For things happening around
And you see yourself
In new enthusiasm
Which you feel will help you live
Longer still
With enough energy, strength and skill
In spite of the fact that
Your grandchild has tougher lessons to teach
poem by Bashyam Narayanan

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Dad's Lessons Passed On
He was not filthy rich
But had the depth of knowledge
That he had blessed me with
To face my trials with great courage.
Dad taught me the love for books
A quiet spirit in times of strife
All those years his lesson took
Me through the hardships of my life.
Teach a child the wealth of reading
To feed his mind, keep him from trouble
Values learned he will be using
To grow up wise and be responsible.
Dad's lessons I now try to teach
On the next in line there to impart
My children know their goals to reach
By keeping his lessons in their heart.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello

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Early Morning Cold Taxi
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
With lifes best side on the downward slope,
Its in my own hands, I know Ill cope,
My girls with me and all my friends can see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Done it before, do it again,
Know from experience its not in vain,
Shes the best Ive had, I cannot see, what someone else can do to me.
Its a long way home but loves so warm, youll see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
song performed by by Who

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What My Mom Left Me (Novelinee)
Sometimes memories of my Mom and me
an aging daughter's stories of delight
my children often hear quite randomly,
her love for art that bless with hand and sight.
She taught me skills and crafts I now pass on
her lessons to the next generations,
wise use of time for things that can be done
with hobbies, joy is the compensation,
in times of need, the handy solution.
My Mom loved to sew and make home decors from scrap cloth and ribbons - a hobby we learned as children. I set up a home business with my daughters making these things and this wall decor is one of our products.
Novelinee - 9 lines in 10 syllables, with ab/ab/cd/cd/d rhyme scheme.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello

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You Were Once A Girl
i remember you: once a girl whose hands
hold on to mine in school,
my first year of teaching then
in the university and your mother
was there teaching too,
how time must have passed!
now you are a lawyer
pregnant on your second child
and defending a case
of your classmate in my court.
how time must have passed!
swiftly, so swiftly like a bird
falling out from the edge of the horizon
like a gaze falling out from the seams
of our visions
how time must have passed!
yet i feel nothing that i have to worry
there is no one in my house to stay
when my time to leave shall finally come.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Contemplation Rose
Puerto rican nursery rhymes
Angels in the snow and thyme
And Im keeping my mind on that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
Got watchtowers and awakes for free
In the laundromat for you and me
But you cant take me down that way
As Im not sinking
And if we go down one time
Next times not gonna be the last time
And Im contemplating that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
Didnt I bring you precious gifts
Came to kiss you on the lips
Didnt even appear
To beg your pardon
To lay out in the morning sun
Feel the cool breeze and the one
Right there in, in my garden
Puerto rican nursery rhymes
And angels, and angels, and the snow and thyme
But Im keeping my mind on that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
Yeah, and if we go, if we go down one time
The next time will not be the last time, and im
Keeping my mind on that, contemplating that rose
Up in a church in spanish harlem
And if we go down one time, you know
The next time it wont be the last time
And Im contemplating that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
And Im contemplating that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
And Im contemplating, and Im contemplating that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
And Im contemplating that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
And Im contemplating that rose
In a church, in a church in spanish harlem
song performed by by Van Morrison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My childhood should have taught me lessons for my own parenthood, but it didn't because parenting can be learned only by people who have no children.
quote by Bill Cosby

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My childhood should have taught me lessons for my own fatherhood, but it didn't because parenting can only be learned by people who have no children.
quote by Bill Cosby

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lessons Of Love
(s. garrett/g. ballard)
See the children play
Listen to the things they say
One-on-one to one another
Theyre just having fun
Finding out it can be done
They dont seperate by cover
Ooh, young hearts
Facing to feel it so naturally
And the flower grows from the seed and
Chorus:
Practice makes perfect and we tryin enough
And were bound to be learning
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other the lessons of love
Got some work to do
Theres so much we can improve
Piece by piece we come together, yeah
In the neighborhood
I know we can make it good
But weve got to make it better
Oh woh oh, inside each of us has a romelody
But weve got to find our harmony
Practice makes perfect and we tryin rnough
And weve got to remember
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other the lessons of love
Bridge:
Imagine how this world could be
If all of us would live in peace
Nothing good comes easily
Together starts with you and me
Yeah, oh yeah, aha
Lessons of love
Practice makes perfect and we tryin enough
And were bound to be learning
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other
Practice makes perfect and we tryin enough
And weve got to remember
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other the lessons of love
Practice makes perfect, try it enough
(oh, never too young, aha)
And weve got to be learning
The lessons of love (lessons of love)
And were never too old and never too young
(to learn the lessons of love)
To be teaching each other
The lessons of love
Oh, never too old, to learn the lessons of love
Oh yeah, lessons of love
song performed by by Lea Salonga

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Value Of It All
When does the teaching process end?
And the learning of lessons begin...
Starting the arrival of experience?
And not far behind is a common sense,
Waiting to be triggered without a nudge?
It is there connecting all of this,
Without a budge!
Ready when needed.
However...
If a mind relies too much on books,
To lead to a life reflecting what is written...
As common as it may seem,
A sense expected is missing.
And if a mind begins to lose sight
Of experience, lessons taught
AND common sense...
There will be problems.
Big time ego ones!
Who pays?
And at what cost?
Especially...
If the value of it all is lost!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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To Get What It Was to Do Done
It has been a long time since I had been a child.
Such a long time,
Those actions I did then...
Were tolerated and condoned by someone else,
Who I respected as an adult and it reflected.
Whether or not I accepted.
And from those who taught me,
The difference as I grew.
I knew when I matured...
So few did that too.
And while they now make excuses,
For everything that they do...
Or not.
Expecting to be dismissed...
Like children throwing tantrums,
And spoiled fits.
Upon others they drop.
To do flip flops...
With something childish,
They can not stop!
I wont put up with it!
No matter how 'old'...
These ageless 'kids' may get!
I'm not going to put up with none of that one bit.
I have learned to be accountable.
And responsibility for my actions...
I take.
I have learned to embrace,
Take hold and move on!
No matter who around me,
May hide or deny...
Any action I may make.
With a mind that is awake.
I might undo it.
But...
Whatever that decision is,
It is done by me to say...
'Something'
I had to do to get what it was to do done!
Whether those of childish minds are left stunned.
To get from point A to B does not require a Phd!
Or a pail and shovel to collect sand.
I have been taught not to be afraid to take a stand!
And...
Get it over to get over it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The Rhyming Flu
It’s 1: 15 A.M.
I’m sitting here in bed;
I want to go to sleep,
But rhymes are in my head.
I just came upstairs;
I was just on the com,
Working out a poem;
For Ainaa to recite in the morn.
The problem with rhyme and I;
Is that it starts and never stops,
Remember it’s one o’clock;
But rhymes still pulse my thoughts.
So I’m writing this very rhyme;
Hoping my rhyme runs out,
But such a hope’s impossible;
When my rhymes are as abundant as trout.
I know what you all are thinking:
“This rhyme is simply a gimmick;
This boy’s not really sleepy,
He’s wide awake with this limerick.”
“This story of sleep is really;
Just some tricky plot,
To make you think he flows out rhyme;
Like water from a cracked pot.”
But, nay, it is true;
I’ve got the rhyming flu,
I’m hoping that by writing this rhyme;
All my rhymes shall be through.
Aha, I know the cure;
The medicine’s no longer obscure!
To end this awful rhyme;
I need a word that does NOT rhyme!
I’ve heard of the word before;
It’s like English’s Achilles heel,
No matter how hard you rhyme;
Its un-rhyming-ness is an iron veil.
Touché now rhyming flu;
This word I give to you!
Try rhyming the word ‘month’
…Ha-ha, you can’t now, can you! ?
The rhyming flu has left me…
I can feel it leaving my mind…
Ahhh… I am so relieved…
The clock says it’s now sleepy time...
…zZzZZZ
poem by Warren Chan

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Stupidity Sows Wisdom Seeds
Adonai we understand
stupidity is necessary
individual stupidity
cultural sect stupidity
collective stupidity
all teaches lessons
stupidity strife sows
wise wisdom seeds
morals as life lessons
so where are instructions
safe laws as authority basis
early script interpretations
collections ancient writings
commentaries as warnings?
All are written in Talmud.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Process 1
History can not be rewritten nor is absolution an absolute cure
Man's reason and purpose is to protect the innocent and the pure
The raising of children belong in the family not to an amateur.
Life is much more than just the passing of earthly or spatial time
It is the legacy we leave our children who are the fruit of our vine
Go give and leave them images of value and virtue for their minds.
Children are invited to come and contribute whenever they can
To know life's purpose and reason is the union of woman and man
The mind of a child needs to be challenged so they can understand.
The children are no longer our children when they leave the home
To carry forward and give to their children who are really a loan
The capacity to ask questions; for all answers come from their dome.
Sense's, intellect and questions, the basis for most human thought
The family home is where answers are given before they are sought
A child needs a safe, protected environment, in which to be taught.
The continuity, salvation and redemption of those here and to come
In the hands of all God's children for through them their will be done
Humanity is singular and exclusive and their gender is two not one.
All children filled with the energy of life and an unfettered mind
To have their time of peace to play, question and eventually find
To participate in life with good purpose and reason and never resign.
The children can move our world forward and even far beyond
Always to be; think; and acknowledge; mankind's most common bond
We on earth to to come together and teach our children to get along.
From the beginning to the end all on earth can be for naught
If the children refuse to participate and grow, all will be lost
A shared responsibility to question, listen and all signs to watch.
poem by chuck Hurley

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My Fore-Elders
When from the child, that still is led
By hand, a father's hand is gone, ---
Or when a few-year'd mother dead
Has left her children growing on, ---
When men have left their children staid,
And they again have boy and maid, ---
O, can they know, as years may roll,
Their children's children, soul by soul?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?
My elders' elders, man and wife,
Were borne full early to the tomb,
With children still in childhood life
To play with butterfly or bloom.
And did they see the seasons mould
Their faces on, from young to old,
As years might bring them, turn by turn,
A time to laugh or time to mourn?
If this with souls in heaven can be,
Do my fore-elders know of me?
How fain I now would walk the floor
Within their mossy porch's bow,
Or linger by their church's door,
Or road that bore them to and fro,
Or nook where once they build their mow,
Or gateway open to their plough
(Though now indeed no gate is swung
That their live hands had ever hung ), ---
If I could know that they would see
Their child's late child, and know of me.
poem by William Barnes

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An uncertain stage
Uncertainty in mind may puzzle
clouds may hover and rain may dazzle
it may do the work for rest
why not we deliver the best?
i do take it as test
act as per conscience whichever comes first
no double mind for what to do
you have to think fast and go through
it is not good to have double mind
something you have to think and find
it must make headway and take you along
it must make aware of what is right and wrong
It may not go well with the time
Still you may not be committing the crime
It may upset you in that particular moment
But still you have clear mind not to resent
It is better not to involve when mind is not clear
You may have all the some hidden fear
It may not allow you to come out clean
It may not be clear case to win
Well, see to it that it appeals you first
If you think clearly it will not land you in worst
You may have enough time to maneuver
You will find the space as good mover
It is nice to think always good
It may keep you In happy mood
There is conscience hurdle and repentance
Whatever comes is real and in presence
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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A peace of mind...
When I wake up from my bed in the morning
My saturate eyes open slowly and welcomes the morning sun
Then I feel warm and comfortable at peace of mind
The morning smell of the earth reminds me my childhood
The wetness of flora brings me cool breeze.
I was born in this universe with peaceful nature around me
Then, I always felt that I was a star on my own brightness.
Learned, the love and kindness brings me a peace of mind
Learned, the prayers for God brings me a peace of mind
Learned, the help for helpless brings me a peace of mind
Learned, the life of peace brings me a peace of mind
When my saturate eyes close slowly and welcomes the silent night
Then I fall sleep comfortably at peace of mind while praying God
to have another peaceful day.
poem by Ravi Sathasivam

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Laughter
Laughter is a unique quality endowed to mankind;
It is completely denied to the animal mind.
When humour is dwelt upon and reared,
There emanates laughter and is shared.
Roaring laughter is contagious,
And humour is surely infectious.
Laughter escalates hilarity and happiness,
And humour diminishes weariness.
One can laugh at a joke, ridiculous,
And can scoff at another one, meticulous.
One needs to be like a child, so jolly,
Egoless and innocent to laugh so merrily.
Laughter requires a bit of intelligence,
As well as presence of mind and good sense.
Benefits of laughter are numerous,
It bestows a wealth of health on us.
Laughter boosts the immunity system,
And lowers the stress hormone item.
With laughter the whole body is relaxed,
And gnawing pain for a time is axed.
Laughter prevents even the heart disease,
And a sorrowful mood is made to ease.
With a chuckle feel-good endorphins are released,
And with a peal of laughter one is pleased.
Laughter adds joy and zest to life,
And eases anxiety, fear and strife.
Laughter helps conflicts to diffuse,
And mirth in one it does suffuse.
Laughter is a resource for problem surmounting,
And has the power for good relationship enhancing.
Humour lightens one's burdens;
Inspires hope and the outlook broadens.
So let us enjoy humour and guffaw heartily,
And let us blend laughter into our lives verily.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan

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