Forward Ever Forward » poem

FW: If Nobody Smiled

Paul — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 20:03:26 +0000

If nobody smiled, and nobody cared,
And nobody helped us along;
If every fellow looked out for himself,
And the good things all went to the strong;
If nobody cared just a little for you,
And nobody thought about me,
And we stood all alone in the battle of life,
What a dreary old world this would be!

Life is sweet because of the friends we love,
And the things that in common we share;
And we want to live on, not because of ourselves,
But because of the people who care.
It’s giving and doing for somebody else–
On that all of life’s splendor depends;
And the joy in this world, when you’ve summed it all up,
Is found in the love of our friends.

-Arthur James Hayden

FW: Wasted Wishes

Paul — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 07:01:24 +0000

Lester was given a magic wish
By the goblin who lives in the banyan tree,
And with his wish he wished for two more wishes–
So now instead of just one wish, he cleverly had three.
And with each one of these
He simply wished for three more wishes,
Which gave him three old wishes, plus nine new.
And with each of these twelve
He slyly wished for three more wishes,
Which added up to forty-six–or is it fifty-two?
Well anyway, he used each wish
To wish for wishes ’til he had
Five billion, seven million, eighteen thousand thirty-four.
And then he spread them on the ground
And clapped his hands and danced around
And skipped and sang, and then sat down
And wished for more.
And more…and more…they multiplied
While other people smiled and cried
And loved and reached and touched and felt.
Lester sat amid his wealth
Stacked mountain-high like stacks of gold,
Sat and counted–and grew old.
And then one Thursday night they found him
Dead–with his wishes piled around him.
And they counted the lot and found that not
A single one was missing.
All shiny and new–here, take a few
And think of Lester as you do.
In a world of apples and kisses and shoes
He wasted his wishes on wishing.

by Shel Silverstein

FW: At the Foot of the Cross

Paul — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 06:00:08 +0000

Fearing the battle was over
And I’d already lost the war,
I was tired of trying and failing.
I just couldn’t fight anymore.

So, dragging my battle-scarred body,
I crawled to the foot of the cross.
And I sobbed. “Oh please, Father forgive me.
But I tried…I tried.. and still lost.”

Then the air grew silent around me.
I heard his voice just as clear as the dawn:
“Oh, My child, though you are tired and weary,
You can’t stop, you have to go on.”

At the foot of the Cross, where I met Him,
At the foot of the Cross, where He died,
I felt love, as I knelt in His presence.
I felt hope, as I looked in His eyes.

Then He gathered me lovingly to Him,
As around us God’s light clearly shone.
And together we walked though my lifetime
To heal every wound I had known.

I found bits of my dreams, long forgotten,
And pieces of my life on the floor.
But I watched as He tenderly blessed them,
And my life was worth living once more.

I knew then why I had been losing.
I knew why I had not grown.
At the foot of the Cross came the answer:
I’d been fighting the battle alone.

At the foot of the Cross, where I met Him,
At the foot of the Cross, where He died,
Then I knew I could face any challenge
Together–just my Lord and I.

Written by Marcia Krugh Leaser

FW: The Pebble’s Ripple

Paul — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 06:00:55 +0000

Drop a pebble in the water: just a splash, and it is gone;
But there’s half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Spreading, spreading from the center, flowing on out to the sea.
And there is no way of telling where the end is going to be.

Drop a pebble in the water: in a minute you forget,
But there’s little waves a-flowing, and there’s ripples circling yet,
And those little waves a-flowing to a great big wave have grown;
You’ve disturbed a mighty river just by dropping in a stone.

Drop an unkind word, or careless: in a minute it is gone;
But there’s half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on.
They keep spreading, spreading, spreading from the center as they go,
And there is no way to stop them, once you’ve started them to flow.

Drop an unkind word, or careless: in a minute you forget;
But there’s little waves a-flowing, and there’s ripples circling yet,
And perhaps in some sad heart a mighty wave of tears you’ve stirred,
And disturbed a life was happy ere you dropped that unkind word.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness: just a flash and it is gone;
But there’s half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Bearing hope and joy and comfort on each splashing, dashing wave
Till you wouldn’t believe the volume of the one kind word you gave.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness: in a minute you forget;
But there’s gladness still a-swelling, and there’s joy circling yet,
And you’ve rolled a wave of comfort whose sweet music can be heard
Over miles and miles of water just by dropping one kind word.

Author James W. Foley

FW: Catching Christmas

Paul — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 06:00:17 +0000

Mother has always been careful
To keep me from catching a sickness.
But one thing she hopes I come down with
Is a condition called “spirit of Christmas.”

Catching the spirit of Christmas
Is nothing like catching a cold.
It makes you feel warm
And new and transformed
And leaves your heart feeling like gold.

Catching the spirit of Christmas
Is the catchingest of all that goes ’round
During this season
When there’s no greater reason
To lift those whose heads hang down.

Catching the spirit of Christmas
Won’t leave you sick in your bed.
It’ll give you the zest
To start living your best
And love others as Jesus has said.

By Tina Dean

FW: A Politically Correct Christmas Poem

Paul — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 06:33:05 +0000

‘Twas the night before Christmas and Santa’s a wreck
How to live in a world that’s politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to “Elves.”
“Vertically Challenged” they were calling themselves.
And labor conditions at the North Pole
were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.

Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their rooftops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called “Unenlightened.”

And to show you the strangeness of life’s ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorised use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she’d enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he’d never had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that’s warlike or non-pacifistic.

No candy or sweets, they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

No baseball, no football,someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you’ve got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.

A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere, even you.
So here is that gift, it’s price beyond worth
May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on Earth.

FW: Just One Person

Paul — Sat, 03 Dec 2011 17:22:45 +0000

Just One Person
(the closer from the musical “Snoopy!”)

If just one person believes in you,
Deep enough, and strong enough, believes in you…
Hard enough, and long enough,
It stands to reason, that someone else will think
“If he can do it, I can do it.”

Making it: two whole people, who believe in you
Deep enough, and strong enough,
Believe in you.
Hard enough and long enough
There’s bound to be some other person who
Believes in making it a threesome,
Making it three…..
People you can say: believe in me…..
And if three whole people,
Why not — four?
And if four whole people,
Why not–more, and
more, and

more….
(keychange)
And when all those people,
Believe in you,
Deep enough, and strong enough,
Believe in you…
Hard enough, and long enough

It stands to reason that you yourself will
Start to see what everybody sees in
You…

And maybe even you,
Can believe in you… too!

FW: Jesus Hugs

Paul — Sun, 27 Nov 2011 21:29:09 +0000

Have you ever had a “Jesus hug?”
Do you know what one feels like?
If you’ve never had a “Jesus hug,”
I pray one day you might.

A “Jesus hug” is different,
As far as hugging goes;
It’s a little taste of Heaven,
Here on earth below.

Only those who love the Lord,
Can give a “Jesus hug;”
It conveys God’s grace and mercy,
And unconditional love.

Those who give out “Jesus hugs”
Always seem to somehow know
Just when you’re in need of one
To make your spirit glow.

And if you ever need one
I hope that I will see,
So I can give you a “Jesus hug;”
Just like someone did for me.

FW: The Bridge Builder

Paul — Sun, 13 Nov 2011 06:00:36 +0000

An old man, going a lone highway,
Came, at the evening, cold and gray,
To a chasm, vast, and deep, and wide,
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.

The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
The sullen stream had no fears for him;
But he turned, when safe on the other side,
And built a bridge to span the tide.

“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim, near,
“You are wasting strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again must pass this way;
You have crossed the chasm, deep and wide-
Why build you a bridge at the eventide?”

The builder lifted his old gray head:
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followeth after me today,
A youth, whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm, that has been naught to me,
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building the bridge for him.”

-Will Allen Dromgoole

FW: “If You Were Busy Doing” Poem

Paul — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 02:06:40 +0000

If you were busy being kind,
Before you knew it you would find
You’d soon forget to think `twas true
That someone was unkind to you.

If you were busy being glad
And cheering people who seem sad,
Although your heart might ache a bit,
You’d soon forget to notice it.

If you were busy being good,
And doing just the best you could,
You’d not have time to blame some man
Who’s doing just the best he can.

If you were busy being true
To what you know you ought to do,
You’d be so busy you’d forget
The blunders of the folks you’ve met.

If you were busy being right,
You’d find yourself too busy quite
To criticize your neighbor long,
Because he’s busy being wrong.

Forward Ever Forward » poem

FW: If Nobody Smiled

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FW: Wasted Wishes

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FW: At the Foot of the Cross

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FW: The Pebble’s Ripple

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FW: Catching Christmas

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FW: A Politically Correct Christmas Poem

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FW: Just One Person

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FW: Jesus Hugs

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FW: The Bridge Builder

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FW: “If You Were Busy Doing” Poem

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