Bringing Home the Treasures

Ships Returning Home

by Max Ehrmann

We are all ships returning home
laden with life’s experience,
memories of work, good times and sorrows,
each with his special cargo.
And it is our common lot to show
the marks of the voyage,
here a shattered prow, there a patched
rigging, and every hulk
turned black by the unceasing
batter of the restless wave.
May we be thankful for fair weather
and smooth seas, and in times of storm,
have the courage and patience
that mark every good mariner.
And over all, may we have
the cheering hope of joyful meetings,
as our ship at last drops anchor in
the still water of the eternal harbor.

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My response to today’s WordPress prompt: fortune

Note:
In spite of all the tales about its ancient origins, the Desiderada was also written by Max Ehrmann, 1872-1945.

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New Territory

Bride and groom, their quarrel
resolved, the mending begun
with softer words, moderate tones,
kisses hugs love promises.
Sensitive issues aired
bring deeper understanding.
The aftermath
a new territory.

— C. Goodnough

I offer this reply to the WordPress daily prompt and trust this little verse will strike a chord with readers. Relationships are a fascinating—and sometimes frustrating—learning ground. As they flourish, they take us a lot farther than we ever thought we’d be able to go. 🙂

The Brighter Side

I want to celebrate my birthday today with an upbeat, inspiring poem — and I found this one that fits the bill perfectly.

The Brighter Side

by Edgar Guest

Though life has its trouble and life has its care
and often its dark days of sorrow,
there is always the hope that the sky will be fair
and the heart will be happy tomorrow.

There’s always the light of a goal just ahead,
a glimpse of the dream we’re pursuing,
in spite of the difficult pathway we tread
there is much it is good to be doing.

Time empties the purse of the pennies of youth,
the heart of its innocent laughter,
but gives in return just a few grains of truth
and the promise of more to come after.

There’s never a new day lived out to the end,
however life’s tempests may pitch us,
but what with a triumph, a joy, or a friend,
the swift, fleeting hours may enrich us.

There is so much to do and there’s so much to see
in spite of the troubles that fret us,
so much to wait for and so much to be
if only the future will let us —

that life with its burdens and life with its tears
and its heart-burning touches of sadness
still lures us all on to the end of our years
with its friendships, its loves, and its gladness.

From the book, Collected Verse of Edgar A. Guest,
©1934 by the Reilly & Lee Co

The Reluctant Surfer — Poem by Joel F

LIFE IS LIKE AN OCEAN

Today I’m giving credit where credit is due by posting about several other blog posts I’ve read recently. I’ll begin with a poem I read this morning: The Reluctant Surfer, written by blogger Joel F (joysofjoel.com). He talks of the need to get out there and brave the waves, both in surfing and in life. His thoughts really encouraged me and I see they’ve inspired over 200 other people as well. I thought you might like to check it out, too.

Click here to read this poem.

If This Were All

by Edgar A Guest

If this were all of life we’ll know,
if this brief space of breath
were all there is to human toil,
if death were really death,
and never should the soul arise
a finer world to see
how foolish would our struggles seem.
How grim the earth would be!

If living were the whole of life,
to end in seventy years,
how pitiful its joys would seem.
How idle all its tears!
There’d be no faith to keep us true,
no hope to keep us strong,
and only fools would cherish dreams —
no smile would last for long.

How purposeless the strife would be
if there were nothing more,
if there were not a plan to serve,
an end to struggle for!
No reason for a mortal’s birth
except to have him die —
how silly all the goals would seem
for which men bravely try.

There must be something after death;
behind the toil of man
there must exist a God divine
Who’s working out a plan.
And this brief journey that we know
as life — must really be
the gateway to a finer world
that someday we shall see.

From his book, Collected Verse of Edgar A Guest
© 1934 by The Reilly & Lee Company

Word Press daily prompt: Abstract

 

 

 

Lesson From the Robins

Service

You never hear the robins brag about the sweetness of their song,
nor do they stop their music gay whene’er a poor man comes along.
God taught them how to sing and when they’d learned the art,
He sent them here
to use their talents day by day, the dreary lives of men to cheer.
And rich or poor and sad or gay, the ugly and the fair to see,
can stop most anytime in June and hear the robins’ melody.

I stand and watch them in the sun using their gifts from day to day,
swelling their little throats with song, regardless of man’s praise or pay.
Just being robins, nothing else, nor claiming greatness for their deeds
but just content to gratify one of the big world’s many needs,
singing a lesson to us all to be ourselves and scatter cheer
by using every day the gifts God gave us when He sent us here.

Why should we keep our talents hid, or think we favor men because
we use the gifts that God has given? The robins never ask applause,
nor count themselves remarkable, nor strut in a superior way,
because their music sweeter is than that God gave unto the jay.
Only a man conceited grows as he makes use of talents fine,
forgetting that he merely does the working of the Will Divine.

Lord, as the robins, let me serve! Teach me to do the best I can
to make this world a better place, and happier for my fellow man.
If gift of mine can cheer his soul and hearten him along his way,
let me not keep that talent hid; I would make use of it today.
And since the robins ask no praise, nor pay for all their songs of cheer,
let me in humbleness rejoice to do my bit of service here.

From his book, Collected Verse of Edgar A Guest
© 1934 by The Reilly & Lee Company

robin

Wondering about something to post for today’s Word Press daily prompt: heard, I opened up my volume of Edgar Guest poems and found this one. Not only does it suit the prompt, I thought, but it was a verse I needed to hear myself this morning.