Poems - My sensitive side

by hippikon 12 Replies latest jw friends

  • hippikon


    Smiling is infectious
    you catch it like the flu.
    When someone smiled at me
    I started smiling too

    I passed around the corner
    and someone saw my grin.
    When he smiled I realized
    I'd passed it on to him.

    I thought about that smile,
    then I realized it's worth.
    A single smile just like mine
    could travel round the earth.

    So, if you feel a smile begin
    don't leave it undetected
    let's start an epidemic quick

  • hippikon


    The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
    Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.
    Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
    For the world was intent on dragging me down.

    And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,
    A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
    He stood right before me with his head tilted down
    And said with great excitement," Look what I found!"

    In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
    With its petals all worn - not enough rain or too little light.
    Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
    I faked a small smile and then shifted away.

    But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
    And placed the flower to his nose and declared
    with overacted surprise,
    " It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful too.
    That's why I picked it; here, it's for you".

    The weed before me was dying or dead.
    Not vibrant of colors, orange, yellow and red.
    But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
    So I reached for the flower and replied, " Just what I need."

    But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
    he held it in midair without reason or plan.
    It was then that I noticed for the very first time
    That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.

    I heard my voice quiver, tears shone like the sun
    As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
    " You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play.
    Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day.

    Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
    The problem was not with the world, the problem was me.
    And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
    I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second that's mine.

    And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
    And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
    And smiled as I watched that young boy, another weed in his hand
    about to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

  • SheilaM

    Hipp: Those are really nice

  • Big Tex
    Big Tex
    Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see

    Good stuff Hippikon.

  • nowisee

    loved your poems - you ARE sensitive, aren't you. the sentiments are beautiful, we all can learn from them.

    best wishes, nowisee

  • hippikon

    Nope - I'm realy a bastaard

  • Prisca

    Looks like you receive the same emails as I do, Hippi.

  • hippikon

    Prisca - You know never read my email.

  • unclebruce

    Lovely stuff you ol' bastard.

    pity the moths are eating your poems


  • ozziepost

    aaaahhhhhh, ain't that nice!! Just think, a sensitive orstrarlian poster!

    Cheers, Ozzie

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