Your Favorite Poems

Promise Yourself by Christy Larson

Promise yourself go be so strong
that nothing can disturb our peace of mind
To talk health, happiness and prosperity
To every person you meet.
To make all your friends feel that there is something in them
To look at the sunny side of everything
And make your optimism come true
To think only of the best to work only for the best
And expect only the best
To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others
As you are about your own
To forget the mistakes of the past
And press on to the greater achievements of the future.
To wear a cheerful countenance at all times
And give every living creature you meet a smile
To give so much time to the improvement of yourself
That you have no time to criticize others
To be too large for worry
Too noble for anger, too strong for fear
and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.

Submitted by: RADA.

Echo by Christina Rossetti

Come to me in the silence of the night
Come in the speaking silence of a dream
Come with soft-rounded cheeks and eyes as bright.
As sunlight on a stream
Come back in tears
O memory hope and love of finished years

O dream how sweet to sweet to bitter sweet.
whose wakening should of been in paradise.
Whose souls brim full of love abide and meet.
Where the thirsting longing eyes
Watch the slow door
that opening letting in let out no more.

Yet come to me in dreams
that i may live
Ny very life again, though cold in death
come back to me in dreams that i may give.
Pulse for pulse breath for breath
speak low lean low
as long ago my love, how long ago.

Submitted by sheryl goss at

All these poems were sent in anonymously.

I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year, "Give me a light, that I may tread safely into the unknown," and he replied, "Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way."

To waken in the morning with a smile brightening my face;
To greet the day with reverence for the opportunities it contains;
To approach my work with a clear mind;
To hold ever before me, even in the doing of little things, the ultimate purpose toward which I am working;
To meet men and women with laughter on my lips and love in my heart;
To be gentle and kind and courteous through all the hours;
To approach the night with the weariness that ever woos sleep and the joys that come from work well done,
This is how I desire to waste wisely my days.

Easy looks for a short-cut to blessing; Easy settles for something less than the best; Easy is soft on priorities; Easy has little, if any convictions; Easy requires no sacrifice and does not want to endure; Easy stops short of the goal and wants no hardship; Easy has no permanence and few if any rewards; Easy will not get the job done.

My mother says she does not care about the color of my hair; Nor if my eyes be blue or brown; Nor if my nose turns up or down--It really does not matter.
And Mother says she does not care if I am dark or if I'm fair; Or if I'm thin or if I'm fat; She does not fret o'er things like that--It really does not matter.
But if I cheat or tell a lie or say mean things to make folks cry; Or if I'm rude or impolite and do not try to do the right--Than that does really matter!

I met murder on the way
He wore a mask like Castlereagh
Very smooth he looked yet grim
Seven bloodhounds followed him
Submitted Anonymously

To see a World in a grain of sand
And Heaven in a Wildflower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
Submitted Anonymously


There was never a man in Santa Fe
Who would stand fist to fist with Shag Bronte
For he could ride a horse
And shoot a gun
Like the devil himself
And the deeds he had done
Would put him in jail for a million years
He was feared and hated by all who knew his evil name
Even by the members of his clan
He was cursed and despised by every man
But there came a day
When Shag Bronte
Made a mistake in Santa Fe

A stranger leaned on the longhorn bar
And quietly puffed a mild cigar
A tenderfoot you might say, at least
Who ought to be back in the quiet East
He dressed the West but his clothes betrayed
To the well trained eye, they were tailor made
And the gun that hung from the belt he wore
Was of nickel plate and silver bore
A man just not used to the tumultuous ways
Of frontier times in Santa Fe

And then Shag walked in
And a huge guffaw boomed from beneath his chest
Not a sound was heard as he swiftly drew
And shot the strangers cigar in two
And at this the fear crazed crowd withdrew
For the hand of death was overdue
The stranger never moved nor spoke
Except to order a ready smoke

And then he bent as though to scratch
In a manly way a ready match
His gun came up and crashed six shots
And Shag Bronte was dead
Dead before he hit the bar room floor
Dead before he ever knew
That he'd pitted his brains
Against a man more feared upon the Western Plains
And Billy The Kid rode on his way
From the border town of Santa Fe

My Father used to tell this to me when I was a Boy;
Regards, K. Moult

A Ghetto Child Speaks

My mind is not limited to the speed of my feet or the power of my fist.
My mind is not limited the streets of my past or what society thinks of me.
My father may be gone and my mother on welfare but my mind is not limited.
My abode may be cardboard with a bar code address but my mind is not limited.
My raggedy shoes and worn out clothes don't bother me because, my mind is not limited to what you see.

Submitted by: M.R.R.

Definition of Success

To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of the children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics,
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty;
to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life has breathed easier because you lived.
This is to have success.

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