Showing posts with label poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poems. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Drop A Pebble

I'm not much for poetry, but there are a few verses that are my favorites. I had this poem posted on my web site for years, but the web site is gone now and I haven't put anything in its place, so I figured it was time to share the poem here. Hope you enjoy!

Drop A Pebble

Drop a pebble in the water:
just a splash, and it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples
Circling on and on and on,
Spreading, spreading from the center,
flowing on out to the sea.
And there is no way of telling
where the end is going to be.

Drop a pebble in the water:
in a minute you forget,
But there's little waves a-flowing,
and there's ripples circling yet,
And those little waves a-flowing
to a great big wave have grown;
You've disturbed a mighty river
just by dropping in a stone.

Drop an unkind word, or careless:
in a minute it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples
circling on and on and on.
They keep spreading, spreading, spreading
from the center as they go,
And there is no way to stop them,
once you've started them to flow.

Drop an unkind word, or careless:
in a minute you forget;
But there's little waves a-flowing,
and there's ripples circling yet,
And perhaps in some sad heart
a mighty wave of tears you've stirred,
And disturbed a life was happy
ere you dropped that unkind word.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness:
just a flash and it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples
circling on and on and on,
Bearing hope and joy and comfort
on each splashing, dashing wave
Till you wouldn't believe the volume
of the one kind word you gave.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness:
in a minute you forget;
But there's gladness still a-swelling,
and there's joy circling yet,
And you've rolled a wave of comfort
whose sweet music can be heard
Over miles and miles of water
just by dropping one kind word.

~James W. Foley

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Poetic Mystery

Ironically, as much as I love finding meaning in song lyrics, I don't enjoy reading regular poetry much. However, once in awhile there will be a verse that silently slips across my path, stirs up my chi, and flits away giggling while I'm left to figure out where that came from. Maybe there are fairies in charge of such things. As Ralph is also famous for quoting: "Some things have to be believed to be seen."

The Mystery by Ralph Hodgson

He came and took me by the hand
Up to a red rose tree,
He kept His meaning to Himself
But gave a rose to me.

I did not pray Him to lay bare
The Mystery to me,
Enough the rose was Heaven to smell,
And His own face to see.