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| The following poems were written by Diane Copyright © 1995-2000 Diane
Gifts of the Sea
Wondering about the beach, I see, Each rolling wave is teeming with gifts from the sea. Sometimes we have to dig for them. One shell reminds me that we must learn to move to the same rhythm Or we will destroy each other. It's a matter of making the connection and encouraging joy & laughter. Learning to maintain a balance of physical, intellectual & spiritual life, Amidst all the strife. Learning to look and work in the same direction While finding inner peace, contentment and protection. Miracles of life and growth are ever changing, ever growing to form a stronger shell. Chasing sand pipers and sea gulls along white sands, I run and yell. Patiently choosing my precious gifts - my spirit begins to flourish; Listening to the sea, I find communication becomes communion and we are nourished. Now back at work, these gifts remind me to find time for me; Reflecting on the harmony, the eternal ebb & flow of the sea. Solitude and loyalty to feed my soul Help me to remain whole. Can you hear the sea talking to thee? Copyright © 1995-2000 Diane
Just Another Rock To many people who see me, I'm just another rock. Something to kick, push aside or get caught in a sock. Seldom does anyone take a look at me; To really see what I am meant to be. I could be a gem or a part of a statue; You have to pick me up - That's your queue. And take a good look at me; While you have a cup of coffee or tea. Look at my grain. . . I've been forged out of pain. Touch me. . .feel me What can you see? Am I cold? Could I be sold? Put me by a fire and feel the heat in me. My fee is free. Look at my color. . . You could throw me and see me soar. I can make the waters ripple Or do you want me to lull? I've been sent by God above. . . To bring you peace and love. So next time you see me. Don't push me aside. . . do you hear me talking to thee? Copyright © 1995-2000 Diane
A Golfer's Angel
May you not have the sun in your face As a game of golf you embrace. As you try to keep score You tee off and yell "fore." You approach the first green You're trying to stay lean, It's a birdie! You're glad it's not a bogie. Onward you drive, chip and putt You have this feeling in your gut. As you score an eagle You're feeling pretty regal. May you not need your wedge Because you have the leading edge. May all the other greens be a hole-in-one And then you are done. Copyright © 1995-2000 Diane dedicated to my late Uncle Jimmy Go to more poems |
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