Teddy Bears

Teddy Bear Poem


I threw away my teddy bear,
The one that lost his eye.
I threw him in the garbage pail
(I thought I heard him cry.)


I've had that little teddy bear
Since I was only two.
But I'm much bigger now and
I've got better things to do


Than play with silly teddy bears.
And so I said good-bye
And threw him in the garbage pail.
(Who's crying - he, or I?)


~Judith Viorst


The Coming of Teddy Bears


The air is quiet
     'Round my bed
The dark is drowsy
     In my head.
The sky's forgetting
     To be red,
And soon I'll be asleep.


A half a million
     Miles away
The silver stars
     Come out to play,
And comb their hair
     And that's okay
And soon I'll be asleep.


And teams of fuzzy
     Teddy bears
Are stumping slowly
     Up the stairs
To rock me in
     Their rocking chairs
And soon I'll be asleep.


The night is shining
     'Round my head
The room is snuggled
     In my bed.
"Tomorrow I'll be 
    Big," they said,
And soon I'll be asleep.
~Dennis Lee 

Three Poems

Click here to go to NimbleSpirit to read three poems by Luci Shaw. You'll be glad you did.

Burn ME

"When the regime ordered

Books with dangerous knowledge

To be burned in public and everywhere

Oxen were forced to pull, carts with books

To the bonfires, one of the persecuted poets

Disconcerted, that his books were forgotten.

He rushed to his desk, flying on wings of rage

And wrote a letter to the authorities.

Burn me! He wrote with a quick stroke

Burn me! Don't do this to me! Do not spare me!

Have I not always reported the truth in my books?

Yet now you treat me as were I as a liar!

I command you: Burn me!"

By Bertolt, Brecht

Who Shall Deliver Me?

Who Shall Deliver Me?

by Christina Georgina Rossetti
(1830-1894)

---

God strengthen me to bear myself;
That heaviest weight of all to bear,
Inalienable weight of care.

All others are outside myself;
I lock my door and bar them out
The turmoil, tedium, gad-about.

I lock my door upon myself,
And bar them out; but who shall wall
Self from myself, most loathed of all?

If I could once lay down myself,
And start self-purged upon the race
That all must run ! Death runs apace.

If I could set aside myself,
And start with lightened heart upon
The road by all men overgone!

God harden me against myself,
This coward with pathetic voice
Who craves for ease and rest and joys

Myself, arch-traitor to myself ;
My hollowest friend, my deadliest foe,
My clog whatever road I go.

Yet One there is can curb myself,
Can roll the strangling load from me
Break off the yoke and set me free.

Poetry of a Madwoman

This is for all of you homeschooling moms out there.  Pioneer Woman, aka Ree Drummond, takes a stab at poetry from time to time.

Poetry of a Madwoman, Vol. 2

May. 5, 2006

Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?
Their war cries pound my brain.
Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?
I slowly go insane.
Will you? Can I? Why not?
So goes the daily grind.
But wait–I am their mommy.
I love them.
Never mind.

Ree
Copyright 2006

Sometimes Poetry Doesn't Rhyme

Sometimes it is just a way with words that touches the soul.  Ann Voskamp writes about her farmer dad BEING POETRY.  Well worth the time to click over and read.

Intro

Just a quick intro from me...I am thankful that Jacqueline has asked me to participate in writing and posting to this blog!

I am a mom to twelve poetry-lovers. Our tastes range from the silly (I never saw a purple cow) to the sublime (Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth), and from the wicked (Willie with a thirst for gore, nailed his sister to the door) to the heavenly (they also serve who only stand, and wait).

Not only do we love to read and memorize poetry, we dabble in writing a few here and there. Don't worry, I am not about to share them all...but I might be convinced to post one or two, especially the ones written by my little kids.

Why not follow the links I posted above and enjoy a smattering of poetry?