This poem was submitted by Connie Morris written by her mother Vida Irving-Gwinn it was published in the Canadian book of Poetry. Her mother passed this year Nov29/2007
And Now I’m Old
I long for the days of childhood,
When all my world was free,
And someone else held the burdens
That now belongs to me.
I long for the days of childhood,
Before I understood
The trials and strains of living,
When all in the world was good.
I long for the days of childhood,
When my worries and cares were nil
When my days were spent in contentment
And my nights, sweet dreams did fill.
I long for the days of my childhood,
When I wasn’t ashamed to cry,
Too late, too late, I cannot got back,
Those days have passed on by.
Author Vida Irving-Gwinn
"One Flaw In Women"
Women have strengths that amaze men. They bear hardships and they carry burdens, but they hold happiness, love and joy. They smile when they want to scream. They sing when they want to cry. They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous. They fight for what they believe in. They stand up to injustice. They don't take "no" for an answer when they believe there is a better solution. They go without so their family can have. They go to the doctor with a frightened friend. They love unconditionally. They cry when their children excel and cheer when their friends get awards. They are happy when they hear about a birth or a wedding. Their hearts break when a friend dies. They grieve at the loss of a family member, yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left. They know that a hug and a kiss can heal a broken heart. Women come in all shapes, sizes and colors. They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you to show how much they care about you. The heart of a woman is what makes the world keep turning. They bring joy, hope and love. They have the compassion and ideas. They give moral support to their family and friends. Women have vital things to say and everything to give. HOWEVER, IF THERE IS ONE FLAW IN WOMEN, IT IS THAT THEY FORGET THEIR WORTH.
Annonymous
THE BEAUTY OF A WOMAN
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears
the figure she carries
or the way she combs her hair
because that is the doorway to her heart
the place where love resides
the beauty of a women is not in a facial mole
the true beauty of a woman
is reflected in her soul
in the caring she lovingly gives
and the passion she shows
and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows
UNKNOWN
" Life is a an opportunity, benefit from it
Life is beauty, admire it
Life is bliss,taste it
Life is a dream ,realize it
Life is a challenge , meet it
Life is a duty, complete it
Life is a game, play it
Life is a promise,fulfill it
Life is a sorrow, overcome it
Life is a song,sing it
Life is a struggle, accept it
Life is a tragedy , confront it
Life is a adventure, dare it
Life is luck, make it
Life is too precious , do not destroy it
LIFE IS LIFE , FIGHT FOR IT"
I spoke
yet I did not recognize the speaker
seemingly versed unfamiliar ideals
only to satisfy
my teacher taught me how to write
in forms
but I am not the seeker of forms
I am the bearer of fruit
and word/bond truth
mahogany tree
rooted deeply
in the voice of experience
a voice I had to learn to trust
when out of mire and dust
rose a sleeping child whose fortitude
had been newly renewed
she/me now rejecting foreign schisms and isms
versed thoughts in vernacularisms
releasing
a voice born out of necessity
was suppressed to please centuries of
age old methodical prose
but
she who composes
exposes
the innermost corners of her real
and so slowly
she/I begin to reveal
the sacred beauties of my mother
tonguin word in the guise of she
pourin libation in the form of
free
verse
Shaunty Grant
A Strong Woman versus A Woman of Strength
A strong woman works out every day to keep her body in shape.....
A woman of strength looks deep inside to keep her soul in shape....
A strong woman isn't afraid of anything...
A woman of strength shows courage in the midst of fear....
A strong woman won't let anyone get the best of her...
A woman of strength gives the best of her to everyone....
A strong woman makes mistakes and avoids them in the future...
A woman of strength realizes life's mistakes
can also be blessings and capitalizes on them....
A strong woman walks sure footedly...
A woman of strength knows when to ask for help...
A strong woman wears the look of confidence on her face....
A woman of strength wears grace....
A strong woman has faith that she is strong enough for the journey...
A woman of strength has faith that it is
in the journey that she will become strong.
Author Unknown
"Phenomenal Woman"
Pretty woman wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I am telling lies
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenmenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile'
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's is not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me. by: Maya Angelou
"STILL I RISE"
You may write me down in history
With your bitter,twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still , like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like the moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Sholuders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin ' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a suprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from the past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling, I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave
I rise
I rise
I rise. By: Maya Angelou
Jacqui's Response to: "Still I Rise"
Why must you beat me down,
so you feel up
why are you right and I am so wrong
you are so black and white,
when there is grey yellow and blue
no longer will I fight.
I am a woman ,
a rainbow
full of light.
I will shine brighter then your
black and white.
Poem #2
CRASH! I know what it is,
hurray save the pictures.
To the basement, water, water every where
hurry to the mop.
slap, plop, swing, ring,
my evening unfolds
slap, plop, swing, ring
3 am I slap, plop, swing, ring
4am I slap, plop, swing, ring
starting to slip, loosing grip
Geoffrey Chaucer on the brain
Geoffrey with a G or J.
You, unstoppable water
pouring on my feet, G or J
answer me.
Slap, plop, swing, ring.
My little pony floating by,
what will it be G or J.
430am the unstoppable stops,
but no answers for me,
Geoffrey with a G or J, I will have to wait for the pm to see.
Poem #3
Who put the mud on the floor, as I glare at all four
again I ask who put the mud on the floor, I get the look I’ve seen before
as I look at the floor and they walk away thinking mom is a bore
I stomp for the mop and think this has to stop
as I scrub grumbling and raging , I now know why ,I am aging.
.Poem #4
I am the bride to be
and I have to pee
where is the matron on honor
in her white cowboy boots,
blue april corneal dress,
socializing with the guests.
Mom, I say to the one in blue
I need your help what do I do.
Oh what a relief the wedding is a success
except for the 200 ants hitching a ride on my dress.
And Now I’m Old
I long for the days of childhood,
When all my world was free,
And someone else held the burdens
That now belongs to me.
I long for the days of childhood,
Before I understood
The trials and strains of living,
When all in the world was good.
I long for the days of childhood,
When my worries and cares were nil
When my days were spent in contentment
And my nights, sweet dreams did fill.
I long for the days of my childhood,
When I wasn’t ashamed to cry,
Too late, too late, I cannot got back,
Those days have passed on by.
