Children's Corner; Easter Poetry

Easter Joy     Jesus came to earth,
To show us how to live,
How to put others first,
How to love and how to give. Then He set about His work,
That God sent Him to do;
He took our punishment on Himself;
He made us clean and new. He could have saved Himself,
Calling angels from above,
But He chose to pay our price for sin;
He paid it out of love. Our Lord died on Good Friday,
But the cross did not destroy
His resurrection on Easter morn
That fills our hearts with joy. Now we know our earthly death,
Like His, is just a rest.
We'll be forever with Him
In heaven, where life is best. So we live our lives for Jesus,
Think of Him in all we do.
Thank you Savior; Thank you Lord.
Help us love like you!     By Joanna Fuchs  

Poetry For Women (By Women, For Women, About Women)

AIN'T I A WOMEN?

Photo Credits from http://ionenewsone.files.wordpress.com/2012/11/sojourner-truth.jpg

That man over there say

     a woman needs to be helped into carriages

and lifted over ditches

     and to have the best place everywhere.

Nobody ever helped me into carriages

     or over mud puddles

     or gives me a best place...

And ain't I a woman?

     Look at me

Look at my arm!

     I have plowed and planted

and gathered into barns

     and no man could head me...

And ain't I a woman?

     I could work as much

and eat as much as a man —

     when I could get to it —

and bear the lash as well

     and ain't I a woman?

I have born 13 children

     and seen most all sold into slavery

and when I cried out a mother's grief

     none but Jesus heard me...

And ain't I a woman?

     that little man in black there say

a woman can't have as much rights as a man

     cause Christ wasn't a woman

Where did your Christ come from?

     From God and a woman!

Man had nothing to do with him!

     If the first woman God ever made

was strong enough to turn the world

     upside down, all alone

together women ought to be able to turn it

     rightside up again.

Copyright © Sojourner Truth, 1852.

Poem by Sojourner Truth (1797-1883)

Children's Corner; Poetry

Flight 

On silver sand where ripples curled

I counted sea-gulls seven;

Shy, secret screened from all the world,

And innocent as heaven.

They did not of my nearness know,

For dawn was barely bright,

And they were still, like spots of snow

In that pale, pearly light.

Then one went forth unto the sea

That rippled up in gold,

And there were rubies flashing free

From out its wing-unfold;

It ducked and dived in pretty play,

The while the other six

So gravely sat it seemed that they

Were marvelled by its tricks.

Then with a sudden flurry each

Down-rushed to join its mate,

And in a flash that sickle beach

With rapture was elate.

With joy they pranked till everyone

Was diamonded with spray,

Then flicked with flame to greet the sun

They rose and winged away.

But with their going, oh, the surge

Of loss they left in me!

For in my heart was born the urge,

The passion to be free.

And where each dawn with terror brings

Some tale of bale and blight,

Who would not envy silver wings,

The sea-gull in its flight!

Let me not know the soils of woe

That chain this stricken earth;

Let me forget the fear and fret

That bind men from their birth;

Let me be the one with wind and sun,

With earth and sky and sea. . . .

Oh, let me teach in living speech

God's glory - Liberty.

BY 

Robert Service

Children's Corner; Poetry

A Toast to our Native Land by Robert Bridges

Huge and alert, irascible yet strong, We make our fitful way 'mid right and wrong. One time we pour out millions to be free, Then rashly sweep an empire from the sea! One time we strike the shackles from the slaves, And then, quiescent, we are ruled by knaves. Often we rudely break restraining bars, And confidently reach out toward the stars.

Yet under all there flows a hidden stream Sprung from the Rock of Freedom, the great dream Of Washington and Franklin, men of old Who knew that freedom is not bought with gold. This is the Land we love, our heritage, Strange mixture of the gross and fine, yet sage And full of promise destined to be great. Drink to Our Native Land! God Bless the State!

A Toast to our Native Land by Robert Bridges

Posted via Blogaway

Children's Corner; Christmas Stories

Mama's Christmas Miracle

Mama told me a story a long long time ago not like any that I'd ever heard,

all about a little girl mama used to know, how I remember every word.

Seems like a lifetime ago, though I remember it so well,

it was a Christmas eve I'll never forget as far as I can tell.

We were sitting at the kitchen table, it was only my mother and me,

I was dreaming of Christmas morning and all the presents under the tree.

Dad wasn't doing that well and money was scarce that year,

Mama found a way of telling me without me shedding one tear.

She told me a story of a little girl and a Christmas long ago,

who came from far away, a place where it rarely snowed.

Santa was just a dream to her, but she believed so much inside,

that Christmas was going to be special, so she knelt by her bed and she cried.

"Lord let Santa remember me if not just this one time, I promise I won't ask for much, maybe a dolly I can call all mine."

She closed her prayer and thanked the Lord for all that she received,

she knew that Santa would really come if only she believed.

She wrote a letter to Santa unfamiliar to most girls and boys,

Though her list was long and full, on it there were no toys.

Only things we take for granted, like new shoes or underpants,

hair bows for her sisters and gloves to warm her brother's hands.

At the bottom of her list she asked if it not be to much, for a brand new baby doll she could hold and love and touch.

Then Christmas morning came and she looked beneath her tree,

Not a present to be found as far as she could see.

She didn't give up hope as she heard a knocking sound,

When she opened up her door a great big box she found.

She called out to her mother and dad, brothers and sisters too,

She said "my prayers were answered, there's something in here for all of you."

Her daddy got brand new boots, her mother new underpants, her sisters got beautiful hair bows, her brothers warm gloves for their hands.

Buried deep beneath the box was a brand new baby doll and a note that said Merry Christmas I love you one and all.

I'll never forget that story because much to my surprise,

I saw the true meaning of Christmas shining in my mother's eyes.

For those of you who are wondering, as if you didn't know,

The little girl in Mama's story was my mother long ago.

This poem is about a childhood memory I will never forget. God bless all the mothers in this world and may all your Christmases be ones to remember.

© Kathy J Parenteau

Source: Mama's Christmas Miracle, Christmas Poem http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/mamas-christmas-miracle#ixzz2nlt6WS9N

Family Friend Poems

Children's Corner; Christmas Poetry

The Greatest Birthday

'Glory to God in the highest

And on earth peace good will toward men'

Born unto a virgin was God's only begotten Son

Emmanuel (God with us) is the title of The One

Mary's father was of Judah, the linage of a king

Mary's mother was a Levite, from Aaron's priestly string

The world beheld a brilliant star a shining in the east

The sign of Christ, The King of Kings, Lord of Lords, and High Priest

'Glory to God in the highest

And on earth peace good will toward men'

Shepherds in the field keeping watch over their flock at night

The angel of the Lord appeared and gave them such a fright

'Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy'

For unto you is born this day, a Saviour, Christ the Roi

The Babe is wrapped in swaddling clothes, a lying in the hay

Heavenly host gave praise to God on the greatest birthday

'Glory to God in the highest

And on earth peace good will toward men'

(Luke 1: 5-36,2: 6-14,3: 23-38)