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| Family Poems: 201-201 of 201 | | << <Prev 16| 17| 18| 19| 20| 21| |
They Were Getting Married | | They Were Getting Married Standing at the altar He pulls the ring Out of his pocket He was getting married Am I ready? Am I good enough for her? Can I be a good husband? She is so perfect So beautiful How could she want someone like me? Flowers in her hair A white gown Flowing 'round her gentle .......... | | << <Prev 16| 17| 18| 19| 20| 21| | | Family Poems: 201-201 of 201 |
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Family Quotes
"There's one sad truth in life I've found,
While journeying east and west
The only folks we really wound,
Are those we love the best.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow,
To those who love us best."
~Ella Wheeler Wilcox
"The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family"
~Thomas Jefferson
"A father may turn his back on his child, brothers and sisters may become inveterate enemies, husbands may desert their wives, wives their husbands. But a mother's love endures through all"
~Washington Irving
Family Poem of the Day
JUBILANT FATHER
His face is like a sun, warms the moon beside him.
She´s grown full; tonight begins the waning.
The tide pulls through her very bones,
her form aches as each wave crests.
The earth pulse, heavy, blood warm within her
Beats new chords, old sun god chants.
"You are the first mother and the last,
all spring flesh has traveled through you."
Aztec plumed and gold beaded,
your priest kneels at the holy alter,
gathers each salt pearl shed, nectar for his sacrament.
You are the temple,
we pilgrims swept through the gates,
bent figures know the scent and petals of your presence,
spread our arms to harvest blossoms,
and your priest, sun struck, kneels beside you.
- CRISTINE McAULIFFE
Quote of the Day
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JUBILANT FATHER
His face is like a sun, warms the moon beside him.
She´s grown full; tonight begins the waning.
The tide pulls through her very bones,
her form aches as each wave crests.
The earth pulse, heavy, blood warm within her
Beats new chords, old sun god chants.
"You are the first mother and the last,
all spring flesh has traveled through you."
Aztec plumed and gold beaded,
your priest kneels at the holy alter,
gathers each salt pearl shed, nectar for his sacrament.
You are the temple,
we pilgrims swept through the gates,
bent figures know the scent and petals of your presence,
spread our arms to harvest blossoms,
and your priest, sun struck, kneels beside you.
- CRISTINE McAULIFFE |
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