by SidewalkPhilosopher

Each word is a glimpse into the inner being behind the face, through the eyes, which watch the world around me.

Softly, at first, I hear the rumbling of thunder off in the distance. A few scattered drops of water are tapping on the patio outside. The sun, though it is still day, is fading under the guise of darkness, only peeking through the approaching clouds. Slowly the drops of water become larger, leaving circles on the hot pavement. The scent of the approaching storm is in the air. But, though the storm promises the strong force of nature, it is peaceful, as the lawn awaits the refreshing rain after the heat of a summer day.


As I sat before the mirror

I gazed with wide eyed stare.

The vision there before me

Much more than featured there.


I find it hard to visualize

The girl I expected to see.

Found in my mind, a pattern

Of whom I thought I’d be.


But the face staring back

Only resembled the face I knew.

Because of life not yet seen

Back then, when I was new.


Today, I see only fragments

Of that girl, so full of plans.

Instead, I see a woman,

Face sketched by life’s own hands.


The face displays a life that lived

Years of unexpected change.

The moments dealt with passing time,

With love and work and pain.


But when I look upon the face

I wonder, would I change

A moment etched there for all to see?

What part would I rearrange?


Could I lose, to sacrifice,

An instant, a moment in time?

There’s none, for every memory

Fits each, with the other, in rhyme.


To give up one or change another,

Then on and on would go.

Until I would not remember

The loved ones I now know.


Be happy with the face you see.

It is yours, for it was earned.

Reach out, instead, and embrace

Every corner you have turned.


We all once had that unlined face

And all those untried plans.

Today we have the full-page script

Concrete in time to stand.


Hear me, I am quiet,

Can you hear the sound?

The silence is deafening,

As my thoughts abound.

When I am, oh, so quiet,

That is the time,

To listen to my heart,

Hear me, follow the rhyme.


The noise of my thoughts

Surround me in a fog.

They play upon my senses,

Across memories, they jog.


Reaching the very core

Of my being, my soul.

To explain my life,

The reason why untold.


If you are listening,

If you truly care,

Those thoughts will resound

And all of them, you’ll share.


Are you listening?

I need for you to hear.

To know whom I really am

To share with me, each tear.


I am here,

The me you may not know.

Listen carefully

For so much my thoughts bestow.


I am quiet, 

Be with me in the calm.

The quiet comes to each of us,

Surrounding like a balm.


Step inside my thoughts.

Be near me, walk along.

Know me as I am.

I will guide you to be strong.


To face the world as I have,

Delighting in each day.

Regardless of the trials,

To thank Him all the way.


My thoughts reach out

To lofty heights

That only the eye can see,

Amid the peaks 

Of snowcapped wonder,

Here my soul is free.


As my voice soars 

To reach its icy points,

I feel the warmth surround me.

Stepping back 

To gather strength,

Plunging deep inside me.


To find the depth,

The constant need,

To release, to find the key

To that single note,

The one that holds

The whole I’m here to be.


God chose to become angels,

Little pieces of our heart.

He kept them in Heaven, 

With Him, from the start.


In the Book of Life, He wrote

Their earthly dates of birth.

As He closed the book, He whispered,

“Too beautiful for earth!”


But, our darling baby Angels, 

So silent from the start.

With you, went a piece of us,

So we will never part.


Some say the loss too painful,

Easier, to forget.

But knowing you is part of us,

Loving you, will not regret.


Tears need words that linger,

Explaining tiny feet.

The footprints left upon our hearts,

Their imprint, oh, so sweet.


Today, we take a moment

To feel the love, the tears,

Sketch renewed mental pictures,

That will linger through the years.


As I stood, with lowered head,

I felt His presence near.

Humbled there within His gaze,

He told me not to fear.


My life began to pass my eyes,

The pictures of my sin.

Afraid to look upon His face,

I trembled from within.


Slowly, with my eyes closed tight,

I raised my head in shame.

But, as I looked into His eyes,

Whispering my Father’s name,


He smiled at me in such a way

That put my fears to rest.

Despite my sin, He loved me still.

My soul, at last, found rest.


Standing for years

Alone, on the mound,

With sad eyes watching

A world of sound.


Within her walls

A peace was found,

Far from the noise

And chaos abound.


Her heart is aching

To erase what she sees,

Once again to feel

Each one on their knees.


But, yet, she waits,

Sad and alone,

For straying far,

They all have gone.


To seek for themselves,

Only Heaven knows,

Making their way,

As the world groans.


Come back to me,

She begs them to hear.

The price of their path

Are loses too dear.


So, as she waits

Alone on the mound,

The sound of her mourning

You can hear resound.


Until the day

The Lord comes again,

To bring them back, 

Forgiving their sin.


Only then will they find

The church on the hill,

Right where she’s been standing

And waiting, still.



With love for our country,

Each day we strive,

To live life in peace,

Raise our children with pride.


You invade our country,

Our land you desire.

You bomb our homes,

Our lives to acquire.


Our prayers ring out

Across this land.

Be with each day.

Please, hold our hand.


We stand our ground.

We fight to the end.

Our liberty, our spoils,

Freedom, we defend.


The outcome may be

That the war we lose,

But the fight is ours,

The battle we choose.


So come with your tanks,

Your guns, your men.

We stand here before you,

Free men to the end.


The world will remember

The Liberties sought,

Our love for our country,

And the battle we fought.


I peered inside the opening,

Passing through the door.

Not a shred of furnishings,

Devoid of all décor.


The room had lack of color,

No sign of life’s known strife.

A look of shiny and new,

No remnants of past life.


T’was all new space to me,

I had never ventured in,

So I had no memory there,

No thoughts to find within.


But those who went before me

Found it full of memories.

Maybe of wife or husband,

Or children’s meanderings.


A room is never empty

When it has been a home.

You fill it with a life that shows

Just by choosing not to roam.


When you see an empty house

Without a table or chair,

Remember once it was a home

Always touched with care.


An empty room is never empty

That has been filled with love,

Especially when that room

Has been shared with God above.


Within the heart, an inner room,

A place to hide away;

All that threatens to consume 

Strength carefully kept at bay.


It bears a tiny, leaden door,

Kept locked with broken pieces

Of dreams and hopes that have been torn,

The pain that love releases.


Walls pulled taunt against the strain

Of silence never broken;

From all the lonely, unshared tears,

Thoughts always left unspoken.


Lost moments growing older,

As the past remains unchanged;

Yet, the tiny door, bolted shut

Against the present strain.


Should somehow all the pieces

Locked carefully Inside,

Be scattered on the sand,

And lost among the tide.


Within the heart, the inner room,

God could fill brand new

With memories only for today,

His love to carry you.


A beacon in the night

Standing tall above the waves,

Steady on Horizon’s sight

In hope of lives to save.


Its everlasting watch

Withstands the storms of time,

Built upon a solid rock

Attuned to waters’ rhyme.


So like this mighty lighthouse

Shouldering every care,

Steady in His love for souls

Head bowed in silent prayer.


Jesus stands upon a cloud

Offering a guiding hand,

Watching every step they take

Toward their fellow man.


With eyes oft filled with tears

He views their feeble steps,

As they sit in silent watch

While souls, in sin, are kept.


To follow in His steps

Is all He asks of them,

To shine, a beacon, on the shore

For souls in need of Him.


Growing underneath your heart

With hope of future burning,

Soon will find a nestled pleasure

Within your arms, now yearning.


To find these moments lasting

Their bonds not once to sever,

The need to find a lifelong way

To cherish them forever.


Settling deep within your heart,

Never far to wander,

This tiny life, formed by God,

With journey’s path to ponder.


Some days this tiny bundle,

Soft, with smells so sweet,

Will task your every nerve

While toddling at your feet.


Ice Cream Cones and childhood wonder

Turn to wings in need of flight,

Days of joyous moments coupled

With your dream to guide their plight.


Revealing their own separate path

Long before you find your way.

They move toward their journey’s door

As you stand alone, dismayed.


Their sole walk with destiny

Finds you on outskirts standing,

Only to watch and support

Their choices with understanding.


Knowing, no matter what the age,

The part they forever play,

Always remaining that tiny pleasure

Formed under your heart that day.


“GRANDMOTHER’S LEGACY” by Jeanie Sims Hunt


Within the recesses of my mind

There were those where I found love,

But one stands out, in my memories’ eye,

Reaching far, and always, above.


She greeted me each morning

With breakfast and simple order,

Sharing our home and my needs

As other tasks busied my mother.


From discipline to my scraped knees,

With loving care, she was there.

Whether lost toys or broken dreams,

Always, my tiny world, to share.


Grandmother taught me the beauty

In the rain or a flightless Dove.

We imagined pictures in the clouds,

Wished on shooting stars above.


I always knew she would be there,

Arriving home from school each day,

When night had fallen, day was done,

To her room, I would steal away.


As I buried my face in her pillow

The scent of her always remained.

The soft folds embraced my face,

Her scent, in my memories, retained!


Though gone from my life for many years,

She still stands with me today!

Her love envelopes my adult mind,

Cradled there, ‘til we meet again someday!


Tears, shed for countless.

Who cannot find their way,

Roaming earth alone,

Whose lives have gone astray.


Unable to hear the one

With answers to their plight,

Today, they wander on

Toward evils in their flight.


For the hearts now broken,

Of angels watching o’er,

Tears rain down, unspoken,

As they see, from Heaven’s door,


Knowing, with His guidance

The droplets calm the fears.

If only they could feel them,

The strength of Angel tears.


I am but cloth, tattered and torn,

From the years, so long, of peace and scorn.

My life is counted by those who’ve died,

Holding me close when peace was denied.


I have seen both love and hate,

When my policies have come under debate.

But never before have I sheltered a storm,

Like the one I find, now, under my form.


 It hurts me to think all will be lost,

After so many have weathered the cost.

Holding fast, the belief, our land would remain,

The land of the free for all children’s gain.


Along the way, the freedoms I cherish,

Have grown unimportant and threatened to perish.

Only the Lord knows the outcome ahead.

However, for now, I can celebrate instead.


The birth of a nation beyond any have seen,

Where every person could follow their dream.

And pray, today, the good Lord will stand,

And I will survive the looming demand.


To stifle my wave, to silence my voice,

That great nation, named by choice. 

The United States, as once it was,

United as one for a common cause.


To rebuild the trust once had in me.

To love one another In a land that is free.

Remember the cloth, the red, white and blue,

Flying high overhead that has sheltered you.


Where, once again, Freedom rings loud and clear,

For all the world, all nations to hear.

I am but cloth, Lifted up by you,

Still flying proud, of the red, white and blue!

Thank you for sharing! I hope you found something of interest!

As you sit quietly, and the sounds surround you, softly speaking, remember. Remember the wonder of God’s world and the beauty in the simple things.

God has painted a picture of love for us to share and enjoy, if we will simply open our minds and hearts to the reality of it.

Updated: 06/12/2022, SidewalkPhilosopher
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SidewalkPhilosopher on 06/15/2022

WriterArtist…Thank you! I am pleased you enjoyed my poems. I love words and writing is the best way to express myself.

WriterArtist on 06/15/2022

Beautiful poetry. You are speaking from the heart.

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