A Little Tid Bit

Hello Readers!

I have been working on several things, and am starting back with a form of school tomorrow, and so have no clue as to whether or not I will be able to give you anything in the upcoming week, so I thought I’d give you a couple poems.

I am not a poet, and don’t believe I ever shall be one, but here are two poems of mine that I wrote. The first is a humorous one I wrote as a sort of challenge to myself, and the other is more an outpouring of my feelings. Those who know my story might understand it a bit better.

The first one has no title, and so I welcome any suggestions as to what I should call it.

Forget not the instruction of your father
Nor disregard the advice of your mother
They are more than those who nurture the young
And have much to say
That will guide your path
They are near twenty years wiser
So heed them
When one tells you to quit, quit
When one tells you to remember, remember
When one tells you to jump, look
They might have lost their eyesight
That is what happens when more than twenty years passes you by

The second one is called Strangers in My Home.

My home is not particular

On whom she lets inside

Her arms are always open

To those who need to hide

Her bosom is a tender one

Where weary heads may rest

Her hands brush all tears away

Her caring is the best

But you must be wondering

Who are these strangers who

Come walking in with troubles

Coming by ones and twos

You might be surprised to find

A curly little head

Or a cherub looking child

Asleep upon his bed

Though they may not be perfect

(Then, neither are you)

They each have things to offer

Things that they can do

To make your smile grow broader

And your heart begin to melt

Maybe trying on your slippers

Shawls, dresses, tie, or belt

Their laughter and their smiles

Tend on your heart to pull

Their precious little questions

My heart is swelling full

Of stories I could tell you

Of our strangers here

How precious they all are to me

How much I hold them dear

How much I thank God every day

For every hour spent

With these bundles of joy

Though I know I only rent

These precious strangers

Visiting my home

Saying “goodbye” is hard

My heart almost breaks

One by one they leave

Never to return

Never to brighten my door

But they are gone

Nothing’s to be done

Now there’s room for more

Even as I was typing this poem out again, my eyes were (are) filling up with tears. I haven’t read this poem in perhaps a couple of years. I wrote it after our second placement left. We have had a few more after him, and they only add to the stories and the tears.

~Bethia

 

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8 thoughts on “A Little Tid Bit

  1. ummmm…. you ARE a poet! The definition of a poet is: “a person who writes poems.” So, obviously you wrote poems, so are you admitting you’re not human?!?!
    What are you? 😉
    Love, Maddie

    Like

    • No. I am a worm. And worms can’t write period or any other form of language because they have no fingers.
      🙂
      No, seriously, I suppose I must change that statement. I am not a good poet, and thus am not fit to consider myself a poet of any kind, for all I do is slap words on paper and hope that it makes sense.

      ~Bethia

      Like

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