Favourite or Intriguing Poems

A friend is someone we turn to
when our spirits need a lift.
A friend is someone we treasure
for our friendship is a gift.
A friend is someone who fills our lives
with beauty, joy, and grace.
And makes the whole world we live in
a better and happier place.

-jean Kyler McManus

matzz

Our mother is the sweetest and
Most delicate of all.
She knows more of paradise
Than angels can recall.

She's not only beautiful
But passionately young,
Playful as a kid, yet wise
As one who has lived long

- Nick Gordon

As she watched the babe and heard His cry
She remembered the day she asked God why
She had been chosen to be the one
To be the earthly mother of His Only Son.

And there was the man near to her side
Who was willing to take her as his bride
In spite of what the world would say
When the babe came and they counted the days.

Years would pass till the world would know
The pain that would come and the child would grow
To be the man we would nail to the cross
For the whole world that was dieing and lost.

She hushed His tears and held Him tight
Praying fervantly, and with all her might
That she could bear what was yet to come
And that Man and God could again be one.

As she thought of the pain that had torn her apart
When the child was born it broke her heart.
This pain was over with the birth of her son,
But her real pain, and His, had only begun.

Priyakkutteee.... Matzzzzzzzzzz

thank u aniz & pls share your fav poems.

heres another fav poem

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.

- willams wordworth

Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain-tops that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did sing.

To this music plants and flowers
Ever sprung,as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring.

Everything that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,
Hung their heads, and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep, or, hearing, die.

- William Shakespeare