Poems From the Porch 7

Thanks for taking the time to visit my porch again this week. the weather is fine and sunny, not too hot though thanks to recent rain and the view of the yard is much improved as the grass is actually starting to turn green again.

I have only written three poems this week but they are diverse themes (one is following the garden's theme from last week). Those lucky (or not) people who I have written poem for this week are: Artchelle Arcillas, Li-Jen Hew, and Dora Wethers. Thank you for your requests ladies and I hope you enjoy what I wrote.

*Somehow, I got a few of the requests out of order but never fear, I will still get to all of them.

"Can you please write about a dreamer close to achieving her dream but still facing huge trials along the way."

Artchelle, I hope you like this poem.

She had a dream she nurtured

From a very early age,

And never deviated

From her goal at any stage.

Though trials and obstacles emerged

And tried to block her path,

She persevered relentlessly,

Bravely facing any wrath.

Her journey's long and winding

But she keeps her gaze ahead.

Her dream now well within her grasp,

It's not just in her head.

She knows she'll face more barriers

Before the journey's end,

But her determination

Will soon pay dividends.

She'll never give up trying,

Though impossible it seems,

For she knows success awaits her

When she realises her dream.

"Perhaps you could write a poem about a garden. I'll leave it to you to decide how it goes!"

Li-Jen, I did wite two garden oriented poems last week, but it doesn't matter, who doesn't love gardens? Besides, I enjoyed writing this poem.

My backyard is a garden that is full of plants and shrubs,

With trees and flowers and vegetables and herbs in plastic tubs.

There are ornaments and wind chimes, and chickens strutting by,

But the wonder of the garden is in more than meets the eye.

For where the native orchids grow against the chain-wire fence

There is a microclimate, the result of common sense.

Bromeliads and begonias catch the eye to please,

And elkhorns grow upon the fence, but mostly in the trees.

And there you'll see me gardening, and also my dear wife.

Neither can imagine no garden in our life,

And, except when seeds are planted, and we shout to scare the hens,

The wonder of the garden reminds us of close friends.

Some can pot petunias and some can prune a rose,

And some just can't be trusted to touch anything that grows.

But, they can trim, and mow the lawn, and weed the garden beds,

For the wonder of the garden can occupy all hands.

"Can you please write some lines on the Innocence of Childhood?"

This is a good topic MsDora. I did a bit of reminiscing and came up with this poem.

Remember when we were just kids,

everything was so much fun,

when life just seemed so carefree,

left the stress to dad and mum.

We played outside from dawn to dusk,

”Just be home before dark!”

There was no thought of danger,

or strangers lurking in the park.

We didn‘t have computers

and games were played outside

except maybe for board games,

or if we had to hide.

We played in dirt, and mud, and grit

with cars or soldiers, made mud pies.

At TV time we went inside,

though it was black and white.

We ate the food put on our plate

otherwise we didn’t eat,

and if we misbehaved at all

there‘s a chance that we‘d be beat.

We weren’t to speak unless spoken to,

”Go play out in the yard!”

if visitors should happen by.

I know this now seems hard.

If an adult asked us how we were

we’d answer, “Well, and you?”

And if we wanted anything

we said, “please” and “thank you.”

I guess we were so innocent

that everything seemed funny.

We never saw the darker side

like a lack of food or money.

If our father had to struggle

to provide the family’s need,

he’d just take on an extra job.

something we’d never see.

I often miss my childhood

and would like to turn back time

to days when life was innocent,

and everything was fine.

Because I only wrote three pieces of poetry this week I decided to add a short nonsense poem by one of my favourite poets/song-writers as a special bonus (at no extra cost.) I hope you enjoy "Snowball" by Shel Silverstein.

Snowball

I made myself a snowball

As perfect as could be.

I thought I'd keep it as a pet

And let it sleep with me.

I made it some pajamas

And a pillow for its head.

Then last night it ran away,

But first it wet the bed.

by Shel Silverstein

Once again I bid you all a fond adieu and wish you all the best for the coming days. The next edition of Poems From the Porch will feature poetry for:

Doris James Mizbejabbers

Brenda Arledge

Ann Carr

Bill Holland

See you next week on the Porch.