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![]() Poems
![]() *I DID NOT DIE*
Don't stand beside my grave and weep,
For I'm not there, I do not sleep,
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond's glint on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush,
of quiet birds in circle flight,
I am soft stars that shine at night,
Don't stand beside my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die.
-Prayer for the dead, Hopi Indian Tribe
The smile on your face lets me know that you need me.
There's a truth in your eyes sayin' you'll never leave me.
The touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever I fall.
You say it best when you say nothing at all.
"Never knew I could feel like this
Like I've never seen the sky before
Want to furnish inside your kiss
Every day I love you more and more
LIsten to my heart, can you hear it sing
telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time.
Come what may, come what may
I will love you 'till my dying day."
The beauty of a woman
Is not in the clothes she wears,
The figure that she carries,
Or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman
must be seen from in her eyes,
Because that is the doorway to her heart,
the place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman
is not in a facial mole,
But true beauty in a woman
Is reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives,
The passion that she shows,
And the beauty of a woman
With passing years-only grows!
The Oyster
There once was an oyster
Whose story I tell,
Who found that some sand
Had got into his shell.
It was only a grain,
But it gave him great pain.
For oysters have feelings
Although they're so plain.
Now, did he berate
The harsh workings of fate
That had brought thim
To such a deplorable state?
Did he curse at the government,
Cry for election,
And claim that the sea should
Have given him protection?
No-he said to himself
As he lay on a shell,
Since I cannot remove it,
I shall try to improve it.
Now the years have rolled around,
As the years always do,
And he cane to his ultimate
Destiny-stew.
And the small grain of sand
That had bothered him so
Was a beautiful pearl
All richly aglow.
Now the tale has a moral;
For isn't it grand
What an oyster can do
With a morsel of sand?
What couldn't we do
If we'd only begin
With some of the things
That get under our skin.
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