Thread: Need a Poem?
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Old 06-19-2010, 12:36 PM   #275
Rush'd Lady
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Join Date: Jun 2004
Location: Ordinary American Citizen!
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I have a folder specifically named Poetry in my document folder on my desktop on my computer. And then I have word documents named in categories like "Friendship" (divided into two columns) and I either type in a poem that I like in the word document or copy and paste it if I get it off the internet somewhere (I also type in the website where I got it). I'm not too "rush'd"! I also have three blogs, am a Sunday School teacher, domestic engineer, send cards to Just Cards, etc. Poetry is just a hobby that I love to do! And here's some more!
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I found this book at our library recently.
I'm At A Loss for Words: What to Say When You Don't Know What to Say. By Cynthia MacGregor. 2002.
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And purchased a printed poem on a strip of acid-free vellum from a new-to-me scrapbook store recently called "Little Hands and Feet" by Patty Gaut @ 2007. By the company www.shopquickquotes.com
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Several weeks ago, I attended my uncle's funeral and this was on the back of the service leaflet.

The Farmer
Author unknown.

He lived where the prairie winds blew so freely,
Across the land, where the earth was oft time stubborn,
Then suddenly gave forth her yield with utter abandon.
But he always knew the earth was the Lord's,
Man a tenant, with only a lifetime lease.

So, he lived and worked and whilst he worked, his soul grew.
As he strove to be a good neighbor, to condone, not to condemn,
Until suddenly and quietly, the Lord noticed that the granaries of his soul
Were well filled. His lease on life was up and lo,
I think his very soul was born upwards on the prairie winds.
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My maternal grandmother saved this poem in a scrapbook. My uncle helped them farm. I re-typed this poem and added it to their 50th Anniversary scrapbook page.

Meditation
By M. Claudius.

We plow the fields, and scatter
The good seed on the land,
But it is fed and watered
By God's almighty hand;
He sends the snow in winter,
The warmth to swell the grain,
The breezes and the sunshine,
And soft, refreshing rain.

He only is the Maker
Of all things near and far;
He paints the wayside flower,
He lights the evening star;
The wind and waves obey him
By Him the birds are fed;
Much more to us, His children,
He gives our daily bread.

We thank Thee, then, O Father,
For all things bright and good
The seedtime and the harvest,
Our life, Our health, Our food;
No gifts have we to offer
For all thy love imparts
But that which Thou desirest,
Our humble, thankful hearts.
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Here's a typical one-room school recital poem.

Here's to the Pioneers!
By Nona Keen Duffy.

Here's to the pioneers of old,
With lofty dreams and hearts of gold
.

Our country then was just begun,
But what a rich reward they won!

Those perilous nights and storm-swept days
They overcame in dauntless ways.

They planted crops and tilled the ground
Until the harvest came around.

They started homes and planned our schools,
With courage, hope, and work their tools.

They wrested from the wilderness
The country that we love and bless.

Here's to the pioneers so grand
That helped to make our fatherland!
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