Post by Geberia on May 11, 2006 12:03:37 GMT -5
Well, I promised I would post my poems sometime...so here they are! I hated writing poetry, but these really helped me appreciate good poetry. It's always much more enjoyable when it's your own!
On Becoming Great
I paused to ask Miss Butterfly,
"How do you flutter so?
Where gettest thou thy bright array,
That maketh thy wings glow?"
"'Twas not at first this way,kind sir,"
Was her quick reply
"I was a lowly caterpiller, till it did occur
That I might learn to fly.
I snuggled warm in my cocoon,
For all those dreary days,
Till on a night of stars and moon,
My head I slowly raised.
You can imagine my surprise.
When I found I had such grace!
For when a caterpillar dies,
A butterfly takes its place."
I stopped to ask the babbling brook,
"How dost thou swiftly flow?
Whence comest water that thou took?
Tell me; I must know."
"My beginnings are a humble thing,"
He pointed out to me.
"I start naught but a little spring,
Beside and old oak tree.
But as time passed and years waned on,
I slowly grew in power.
Though other criks have come and gone,
That spring is still my tower.
As I run downstream I see
More and more each day
That little spring supporting me
Guiding me thro' my way."
'Twas on these points I slowly mused
As day was getting late
'Twas a spring and cocoon both used
To make themselves so great.
What lesson can I learn from this,
To make me clearly see?
How its moral I not miss?
The answer came to me.
"Christian, if you wish to be
Great in the eyes of God
First you must become a child
Humble, meek, and mild."
On Becoming Great
I paused to ask Miss Butterfly,
"How do you flutter so?
Where gettest thou thy bright array,
That maketh thy wings glow?"
"'Twas not at first this way,kind sir,"
Was her quick reply
"I was a lowly caterpiller, till it did occur
That I might learn to fly.
I snuggled warm in my cocoon,
For all those dreary days,
Till on a night of stars and moon,
My head I slowly raised.
You can imagine my surprise.
When I found I had such grace!
For when a caterpillar dies,
A butterfly takes its place."
I stopped to ask the babbling brook,
"How dost thou swiftly flow?
Whence comest water that thou took?
Tell me; I must know."
"My beginnings are a humble thing,"
He pointed out to me.
"I start naught but a little spring,
Beside and old oak tree.
But as time passed and years waned on,
I slowly grew in power.
Though other criks have come and gone,
That spring is still my tower.
As I run downstream I see
More and more each day
That little spring supporting me
Guiding me thro' my way."
'Twas on these points I slowly mused
As day was getting late
'Twas a spring and cocoon both used
To make themselves so great.
What lesson can I learn from this,
To make me clearly see?
How its moral I not miss?
The answer came to me.
"Christian, if you wish to be
Great in the eyes of God
First you must become a child
Humble, meek, and mild."
I've written a few since this one....maybe I'll post them up here sometime, but they still need a little work!
