Poems And Quotes

With joy you work,
With joy you talk,
Your joy puts others at ease,
Time with you they wouldn’t miss.

I see your joy, when from Germany you come,
laying down your presents for me, one by one,
clothes, cosmetics, chocolates and cheese.
your choices always right, how come?

I sense your joy, when in turn, you see
my gifts of pink pearls custom-made for me,
‘though they’re used, your eyes shine brightly,
with Philippine-made bags, you receive them with glee.

You are joy
as Joy you are named
with kin and friend
your joy is shared.

You are in this lifetime as my sister born,
through ups and downs we’ve come,
verbal fights and silent wars long gone,
freely fond feelings fanned.

Your joys are my joys,
My joys are your joys,
May they flow endlessly
as we grow spiritually.

Happy birthday with all best wishes!

by

Joscephine Gomez

vivid pictures in my head..
Some ,i wish i could relive,
but to erase others,all i’d give..

Memories bind me with the past
If only some of them could last!
If only i had known back then
how holy they’d be in the end…

This journey is all i need
to give me hope in times i bleed..
The very source of nostalgy,
drawn smiles out of melancholy.

They say it’s useless to look back,
that’s why they’ll never leave their track,
to be remembered by the young,
revoked for all the deeds they’ve done..

Memories,a praiseworthy gift
AlaS,we neglect that time is swift,
What now is present,in a minute is past,
not more than a memory,but in me it’ll last..
So innocence will die last..

For there will come a day of cold,
when i will silently depart this world,
and will then history keep my name??
Like all aged heroes bloom in fame??

Memories carve us all along,
and remembering makes us strong..
As long as you remember too:
Cling to the past ,but let it not devour you..

For if you dwell more with the dead
than with the living ones instead,
Dreaming of tombs and not of the clock,
you’ll be abandoned by the flock.

”Let past lead you to tomorrow”
the wisest word that i can give..
Remembering won’t bring you sorrow,
..but just ONE more reason to LIVE..

by

DREAM-WORTH-KEEPNG

The night is darkening round me,

The wild winds coldly blow;

But a tyrant spell has bound me

And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending

Their bare boughs weighed with snow.

And the storm is fast descending,

And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,

Wastes beyond wastes below;

But nothing dear can move me;

I will not, cannot go.

by

Emily Brontë

And the journey started with a song,
a great ballad from yesterday.
The pilgrims plight,
is and endless flight,
to the land called Faraway

On the journey he saw shades of night,
and he passed through skies of gray.
But, he stayed forthright,
as he searched for light,
and the land called Faraway.

On the journey he made countless friends,
and avoided countless enemies.
And he prayed each night,
that he’d earn the right,
to the land called Faraway.

Though, he longed for glory,
his body grew old and fray.
A soul long lost,
is the dreamers cost,
in the land called Faraway.

He lay down in a green meadow,
for he knew his time was nigh.
He relived each scene,
of his minds sweet dreams,
to the land of Faraway.

And though each breath was labored,
each heartbeat found the truth.
And he saw that life,
was both joy and strife,
in the land called Faraway.

And as the darkness took him,
his hopes were bright and gay.
For he’d be one,
with the setting sun,
and the land called Faraway.

by

Joseph D. Neloff

Look at the words written if you will,

The speech of mankind on paper and twill.
Representation is to identify who cries,
For those who bare witness or those who have ties.

We all have our pain and some have their sorrow,
Others go through life like there is no tomarrow.
What starts from the beginning will come to the end,
Will it become an origianl or fade as a trend?

From the Author’s reality your subcomed to a dream,
You will laugh or will cry from the visions of theme.
But in the end it is all about the Preacher,
And thanks to the Lord for being the teacher.
Joshua Andrew Maxwell-Scott
Copyright ‘2004 Joshua Andrew Scott

by

Joshua Scott