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How Your Hair Style Boosts Your Self Esteem

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How to grow your hair LONGER, FASTER, and STRONGER

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How to Cultivate a Love of Poetry in Your Child (part 4)

A Guide in helping your young child better understand and develop a true appreciation of poetry

: How To Grow Your Hair Long This final section of this series is more appropriate for older children (ages 11-15) as these poems rely on a more advanced reading level, an expanded vocabulary, greater learning acquired from personal experiences, and a maturation of thinking processes enabling them to understand these poems on a deeper level. Many of these poems have a message to say about our present social conditions, the struggles and challenges that we all must face, the cycle of life and death, and our endeavor to find meaning or purpose in our lives.

How Poetry Can Effect Us

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Poetry gives us a window into the poet's mind as they reflect on their

own experiences and insights. Maybe poetry, although an art form, is

at its core an attempt to ultimately seek truth and derive meaning in

our existence. I think the great thing about poetry is that it makes

us contemplate and even appreciate life more deeply than we would

otherwise. In so doing, it can expand our consciousness so that we can

look at something from an entirely different perspective than we have

ever looked at it before- challenging our preconceived ideas, and

causing us to think about what it really means to be human.

So perhaps poetry can help us acquire wisdom and empathy toward all

living beings- even helping us to discover more about ourselves and

about each other enabling us to see that we are more alike than

different. May be it can help us also to create the kind of world that

is worthy of our ideals and highest aspirations.

Through the use of metaphors or symbols the poet attempts to tell us

something, often important. A metaphor is an idea or symbol that is a

representation for something else. Poems use metaphors to communicate

messages about life, death, love, inspiration, wonder, joy, sadness, indifference,

faith, hope, freedom, remorse, courage, fear or in describing an event of

significance in one's life. In the poems below, see if you can find metaphors

which symbolize some of these emotions or life changing events.

Poetry is a unique art form which allows us to express the whole gamut

of human emotions and provoke complex thoughts and feelings in the

reader just as any work of art- music, painting, sculpture, theatre,

or dance. But please remember this too. Poetry doesn't always have to

be serious, it can be funny and still have a message! I hope these

poems which I have selected for you will take you through a range of

emotions and cause you to reflect a little more about certain

things-hopefully some will inspire you, some will make you feel sad

but others will bring you joy, even make you laugh, and in the end

make you feel that you have been on an interesting journey into the

human mind and soul.

POEMS

Identity

Let them be as flowers,

always watered, fed, guarded, admired,

but harnessed to a pot of dirt.

I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed,

clinging on cliffs, like an eagle

wind-wavering above high, jagged rocks.

To have broken through the surface of stone,

to live, to feel exposed to the madness

of the vast, eternal sky.

To be swayed by the breezes of an ancient sea,

carrying my soul, my seed,

beyond the mountains of time or into the abyss of the bizarre.

I'd rather be unseen, and if

then shunned by everyone,

than to be a pleasant-smelling flower,

growing in clusters in the fertile valley,

where they're praised, handled, and plucked

by greedy, human hands.

I'd rather smell of musty, green stench

than of sweet, fragrant lilac.

If I could stand alone, strong and free,

I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed.

-Julio Noboa Polanco

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost

My Heart Leaps Up When I Behold

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began,
So is it now I am a man,
So be it when I shall grow old
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man:
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.

-William Wordsworth

Autumn

There is a wind where the rose was;
Cold rain where sweet grass was;
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.

Nought gold where your hair was;
Nought warm where your hand was;
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.

Sad winds where your voice was;
Tears, tears where my heart was;
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.

-Walter De La Mare

The House on the Hill

They are all gone away,

The house is shut and still,

There is nothing more to say.

Through broken walls and gray

The winds blow bleak and shrill:

They are all gone away.

Nor is there one today

To speak them good or ill:

There is nothing more to say.

Why is it then we stray

Around the sunken sill?

They are all gone away.

And our poor fancy-play

For them is wasted skill:

There is nothing more to say.

There is ruin and decay

In the House on the Hill

They are all gone away,

There is nothing more to say.

-Edwin Arlington Robinson

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

-Robert Frost

My Noble Steed

Through time I have traveled with you,

my noble steed,

across the Kingdom of the Pharaohs

you have traversed the land;

with lightening speed...

in all terrains and adversity

to fight the battles with men

to witness ...firsthand, the wages of war

and mankind's inhumanity...

to whatever fate you have resigned-

only to ask that when you die

we will be there at your side.

I see a gallant soul

in your eyes...

As I ride

through forest and field,

with your grand stride,

I feel the pulse of the earth.

If this world should

come to an end,

I only ask that you be with me

my valiant friend...

and if destiny should decree

that you go before I,

emblazoned in the sky,

so shall I see you with wings as you fly

as your ancestor winged Perseus.

In the depth of my soul

with each and every breath,

I pray that you will be with me after death.

-Marie Lawrence

The Ballad of the Music Student

I sat down at the piano

to begin the Polonaise with such flourish...

suddenly, a great silence pervades the room

with someone saying a final "hush" soon.

I envisioned I'd wow them

make some even swoon...

with a captivating boom

I could hear in my mind a piano forte,

but all that came out was a note of a feeble sort.

I would summon all the courage it would take

for such noble a purpose I knew was at stake.

After all, it was for art's sake-

to muster all my poise

for such grand, eloquent noise...

I vowed I would make great harmony

with the ensuing chord

but with fingers trembling

impediment to fine motor assembling-

one note completely missed,

and instead created quite a discord!

I kept my gaze tightly focused on the keys,

and said, "dear Pataruski help me if you please..."

with great commitment and willingness abound

I certainly had yet to astound;

at that moment something miraculous begin to click

or maybe it was just true "grit"

but all of a sudden I actually begin to sound quite "finessy"

even a bit "Chopinessy."

I got better and better as I played

the music full of new life and verve,

I guess you might say I had finally found

"da nerve."

Why, I could have even sworn

that this time when I looked up

at the bust of Mr. Beethoven, himself,

that though it took a considerable while-

the frown on his face turned into a smile!

So folks remember this bit of advice

when you start to experience some difficulty

in your life...

just think of this little ballad

and keep the music alive in your heart,

for even if you get off to a shaky start...

you may end up finishing like Mozart.

-Marie Lawrence

A Dog's Soul

Every dog must have a soul

Somewhere deep inside

Where all his hurts and grievances

Are buried with his pride.

Where he decides the good and bad,

The wrong way from the right,

And where his judgement carefully

Is hidden from our sight.

A dog must have a secret place

Where every thought abides,

A sort of close acquaintance that

He trusts in and confides.

And when accused unjustly for

Himself, He cannot speak,

Rebuked, He finds within his soul

The comfort he must seek.

He'll love, tho'he is unloved,

And he'll serve tho'badly used,

And one kind word will wipe away

The times when he's abused.

Altho' his heart may break in two

His love will still be whole,

Because God gave to every dog

An understanding Soul!

-Author Unknown

Miniver Cheevy

MINIVER CHEEVY, child of scorn,

Grew lean while he assailed the seasons;
He wept that he was ever born,
And he had reasons.

Miniver loved the days of old
When swords were bright and steeds were prancing;
The vision of a warrior bold
Would set him dancing.

Miniver sighed for what was not,
And dreamed, and rested from his labors;
He dreamed of Thebes and Camelot,
And Priam's neighbors.

Miniver mourned the ripe renown
That made so many a name so fragrant;
He mourned Romance, now on the town,
And Art, a vagrant.

Miniver loved the Medici,
Albeit he had never seen one;
He would have sinned incessantly
Could he have been one.

Miniver cursed the commonplace
And eyed a khaki suit with loathing;
He missed the mediaeval grace
Of iron clothing.

Miniver scorned the gold he sought,
But sore annoyed was he without it;
Miniver thought, and thought, and thought,
And thought about it.

Miniver Cheevy, born too late,
Scratched his head and kept on thinking;
Miniver coughed, and called it fate,
And kept on drinking.

- Edward Arlington Robinson

Innocent One

Oh beautiful child,
Little lamb of promise
With your sweet, sad eyes -
Reflecting, lush pools
of angel softness,
Your melancholy lights burn deep
Into this soul
And sing silently to me;
As the gentle humming bird,
Undauntedly, unquestioningly
Alights in a barren, withered field-
Yet his innocence unscathed
By all that he touches-
And trustingly sows a tiny seed into the ground
From which new life may spring,
You vindicate all my unworthiness
And still even my skeptic cries.

-Marie Lawrence

A Reflection of You in Me

In a vast landscape
as figures run to escape
weapons of annihilation-
their faces blurred
as they run toward each other
in desperation-
cries become one,
and their destiny becomes linked...

in a prism of sunlight
where a thousand fragmented faces,
and muted cries
become indistinct...

in the eyes of a child
running blindly,
in frantic search
to be united with a loved one-
stumbling through a path of broken bodies
cries out to those who cannot hear...

in a sea of humanity
under the last setting sun
as it cries for a final plea...

in the rippled waters of an ancient
stream where the cries of men are
mixed with the rushing water,
in the silence of a moment-
I see a reflection of you in me.

-Marie Lawrence

Ode For A Dog

If truth is beauty

and beauty is truth

then who can deny that

you aren't indeed beautiful...

If soul is an inner spirit

which is reflected in the yearning of the eyes

then who can deny that you have a soul...

If friendship is the warmth of a comforting friend

in times of despair, then who can deny

your devout friendship...

If love is the capacity to love unselfishly

with no conditions attached then who can deny

your ability to truly love...

If virtue encompasses faith, devotion, trust,

and the purity of heart,

then are you not virtuous

and can we not learn from you?

If the value of a life be measured

in the endurance of cherished memories

which persist through time,

as a testament of your place in my heart,

then who can deny that your life had purpose.

-Marie Lawrence

Return to Another Part...

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 - You are here

Additional Poetry and Inspirational Works

by Marie Lawrence

The Magical World of Poetry

Poems can heighten our awareness, give expression to our feelings, make us laugh, cry, imagine new places, and inspire us with their message. I've created this lens to share my love of poetry with you. It is my sincere wish that you will find these poems fun, magical, and inspirational too!

St. Francis, A Legacy of Love

St. Francis of Assisi (1182-1226) was a Roman Catholic friar who founded the Order of the Franciscans. On July 16, 1228 he was canonized by Pope Gregory IX. He is known as the patron saint of animals, birds, the environment, and Italy.

Ladybug Poems and Ladybug Poetry

Fun, charming, and inspiring poetry about ladybugs.

The Magic of Being - Helping Children To Be Happy With Who They Are

The Magic of Being hub gives all children the message that life is a precious gift, that they should be happy with who they are, and that their dreams can come true if they believe in themselves.

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