To My Grown-Up Son (Poem)

My hands were busy through the day;

I didn’t have much time to play
The little games you asked me to.
I didn’t have much time for you.

I’d wash your clothes, I’d sew and cook,
But when you’d bring your picture book
And ask me please to share your fun
I’d say: “A little later, son.”

I’d tuck you in all safe at night
and hear your prayers, turn out the lights,
Then tip toe softly to the door…
I wish I’d stayed a minute more.

For life is short, the years rush past…
A little boy grows up so fast.
No longer is he at your side
His precious secrets to confide.

The picture books are put away,
There are no longer games to play,
No good-night kiss,
No prayers to hear…
That all belongs to yesteryear.

My hands, once busy, now are still,
The days are long and hard to fill,
I wish I could go back and do
The little things you asked me to.

by Alice E. Chase

If... (Poem)

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss.
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

by Rudyard Kipling

Equipment (Poem)

Figure it out for yourself, my lad,

You’ve all that the greatest of men have had,
Two arms, two hands, two legs, two eyes
And a brain to use if you would be wise.
With this equipment they all began,
So start for the top and say, “I can.”

Look them over, the wise and great
They take their food from a common plate,
And similar knives and forks they use,
With similar laces they tie their shoes.
The world considers them brave and smart,
But you’ve all they had when they made their start.

You can triumph and come to skill,
You can be great if you only will.
You’re well equipped for what fight you choose,
You have legs and arms and a brain to use,
And the man who has risen great deeds to do
Began his life with no more than you.

You are the handicap you must face,
You are the one who must choose your place,
You must say where you want to go,
How much you will study the truth to know.
God has equipped you for life, but He
Lets you decide what you want to be.

Courage must come from the soul within,
The man must furnish the will to win.
So figure it out for yourself, my lad.
You were born with all that the great have had,
With your equipment they all began,
Get hold of yourself and say: “I can.”

By Edgar A. Guest

My Wage (Poem)

I bargained with life for a penny,

And life would pay no more,
However I begged at evening
When I counted my scanty store;

For life is a just employer,
He gives you what you ask,
But once you have set the wages,
Why, you must bear the task.

I worked for a menial’s hire,
Only to learn dismayed,
That any wage I had asked of life,
Life would have paid.

by Jessie B. Rittenhouse

The Challenge (Poem)

Let others lead small lives,

But not you.
Let others argue over small things,
But not you.
Let others cry over small hurts,
But not you.
Let others leave their future
In someone else’s hands,
But not you.

by Jim Rohn

The Guy in the Glass (Poem)

When you get what you want in your struggle for self

And the world makes you king for a day
Just go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn’t your Father or Mother or wife
Whose judgement upon you must pass.
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass.

Some people may call you a straight shooting chum
And call you a wonderful guy,
but the man in the glass says you’re only a bum
If you can’t look him straight in the eye.

He’s the fellow to please, never mind all the rest
For he’s with you clear to the end,
And you have passed your most dangerous test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may face the whole world down the pathway of life
And get pats on the back when you pass,
But your final reward will be heartache and strife
If you’ve cheated the man in the glass.

by Dale Wimbrow

Climb ‘Til Your Dream Comes True (Poem)

Often your tasks will be many,

And more than you think you can do.

Often the road will be rugged
And the hills insurmountable, too.

But always remember,
The hills ahead
Are never as steep as they seem,
And with Faith in your heart
Start upward
And climb ’til you reach your dream.

For nothing in life that is worthy
Is ever too hard to achieve
If you have the courage to try it,
And you have the faith to believe.

For faith is a force that is greater
Than knowledge or power or skill,
And many defeats turn to triumph
If you trust in God’s wisdom and will.

For faith is a mover of mountains,
There’s nothing that God cannot do,
So, start out today with faith in your heart,
And climb ’til your dream comes true!

by Helen Steiner Rice

The Most Beautiful Flower (Poem)

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read 

Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.

Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.

He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,

With its petals all worn – not enough rain, or too little light.

Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,

I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise,
“It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful, too.

That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you.”
The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.

So I reached for the flower, and replied, “Just what I need.”
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.

I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
“You’re welcome,” he smiled, and then ran off to play.

Unaware of the impact he’d had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.

How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he’d been blessed with true sight.

Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see.

The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.

And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life,
And appreciate every second that’s mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy,

Another weed in his hand,
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

Stand By Me (Poem)

Sometimes life has it difficulties

When the odds seem impossible
Many times there are casualties
For me, all things are possible!

Problems mount unbelievable
But who will stand by me?
Who will be accountable?
I will not faultier you see.

Can I count on you to be there?
Or do I have to face this alone?
Will you be honest and fair?
Or will I be the one you disown?

I will stand and give you my best
I want to know I can count on you
Your love for me I won’t contest
I will give you my love and life too.

In the end I will make my stand
With or without you I’ll conquer
I will draw my line in the sand
In me you’ll find no surrender.

by Dr. Rick McGrath, Ph.D.

On Top of the Rock (Poem)

There are many rocks in my life to overcome

There are big ones and small ones too
All need to be scaled but when?
I must muster the courage
Will it be today?
I say yes!

Time to end this terrible fear that I have
It’s a matter of my mind made up
Get up and take that first step
Can’t wait for another day
Now is the time
No excuses!

Victory is now mine, the rocks climbed and defeated
I sit on top of my rocks with a new sense
There was big ones and small ones
I scaled everyone of them
I have no more fear
Because I started!

by Dr. Rick McGrath, Ph.D.

Success (Poem)

Success is speaking words of praise, 

In cheering other people’s ways.
In doing just the best you can,
With every task and every plan.

It’s silence when your speech would hurt,

Politeness when your neighbor’s curt.
It’s deafness when the scandal flows,

And sympathy with others’ woes.

It’s loyalty when duty calls,
It’s courage when disaster falls.
It’s patience when the hours are long,

It’s found in laughter and in song.

It’s in the silent time of prayer,

In happiness and in despair.
In all of life and nothing less,
We find the thing we call success.

Profit From Failure (Poem)

The test of a man is the fight he makes,

The grit that he daily shows;
The way he stands on his feet and takes
Fate’s numerous bumps and blows.
A coward can smile when there’s naught to fear,
When nothing his progress bars;
But it takes a man to stand up and cheer
While some other fellow stars.

It isn’t the victory, after all,
But the fight that a brother makes;
The man who, driven against the wall,
Still stands up erect and takes
The blows of fate with his head held high;
Bleeding, and bruised, and pale,
Is the man who’ll win in the by and by,
For he isn’t afraid to fail.

It’s the bumps you get, and the jolts you get,
And the shocks that your courage stands,
The hours of sorrow and vain regret,
The prize that escapes your hands,
That test your mettle and prove your worth;
It isn’t the blows you deal,
But the blows you take on the good old earth,
That show if your stuff is real.

May You Have (Poem)

May you have……

Enough happiness to keep you sweet,

Enough trials to keep you strong,

Enough sorrow to keep you human,

Enough hope to keep you happy;

Enough failure to keep you humble,

Enough success to keep you eager,

Enough friends to give you comfort,

Enough wealth to meet your needs;

Enough enthusiasm to look forward,

Enough faith to banish depression,

Enough determination to make each day better than yesterday.

Be The Best of Whatever You Are (Poem)

If you can’t be a pine on the top of the hill,

Be a scrub in the valley-but be
The best little scrub by the side of the rill;
Be a bush if you can’t be a tree.

If you can’t be a bush be a bit of the grass,
And some highway happier make;
If you can’t be a muskie then just be a bass
But the liveliest bass in the lake!

We can’t all be captains, we’ve got to be crew,
There’s something for all of us here,
There’s big work to do, and there’s lesser to do,
And the task you must do is the near.

If you can’t be a highway then just be a trail,
If you can’t be the sun be a star;
It isn’t by size that you win or you fail
Be the best of whatever you are!

By Douglas Malloch

Do More (Poem)

Do more than belong: participate.

Do more than care: help.
Do more than believe: practice.
Do more than be fair: be kind.
Do more than forgive: forget.
Do more than dream: work.

By William Arthur Ward

Before You (Poem)

Before you speak, listen.

Before you write, think.
Before you spend, earn.
Before you invest, investigate.
Before you criticize, wait.
Before you pray, forgive.
Before you quit, try.
Before you retire, save.
Before you die, give.

By William Arthur Ward

Seeds of Belief: Attitude is Everything

Your attitude is either the lock on or key to your door of success.

It’s not what you are that holds you back, it’s what you think you’re not.

A smile is the light in your window that lets others know there is a caring person inside.

The most important three words you can say to yourself: “Yes, I can!”

If you believe you can… you probably can.

If you believe you won’t… you most assuredly won’t.

Belief is the ignition switch that gets you off the launching pad.

 by Denis Waitley

Influence (Poem)

Drop a pebble in the water,

And its ripples reach out far;
And the sunbeams dancing on them
May reflect them to a star.

Give a smile to someone passing,
Thereby making his morning glad;
It may greet you in the evening
When your own heart may be sad.

Do a deed of simple kindness;
Though its end you may not see,
It may reach, like widening ripples,
Down a long eternity.

By Joseph Norris

Things Work Out (Poem)

Because it rains when we wish it wouldn’t,

Because men do what they often shouldn’t,
Because crops fail, and plans go wrong
Some of us grumble all day long.
But somehow, in spite of the care and doubt,

It seems at last that things work out.

Because we lose where we hoped to gain,
Because we suffer a little pain,
Because we must work when we’d like to play
Some of us whimper along life’s way.
But somehow, as day always follows the night,
Most of our troubles work out all right.

Because we cannot forever smile,
Because we must trudge in the dust awhile,
Because we think that the way is long
Some of us whimper that life’s all wrong.
But somehow we live and our sky grows bright,
And everything seems to work out all right.

So bend to your trouble and meet your care,
For the clouds must break, and the sky grow fair.
Let the rain come down, as it must and will,
But keep on working and hoping still.
For in spite of the grumblers who stand about,
Somehow, it seems, all things work out.

 By Edgar A. Guest

My Creed (Poem)

To live as gently as I can;

To be, no matter where, a man;
To take what comes of good or ill
And cling to faith and honor still;
To do my best, and let that stand
The record of my brain and hand;
And then, should failure come to me,
Still work and hope for victory.

To have no secret place wherein
I stoop unseen to shame or sin;
To be the same when I’m alone
As when my every deed is known
To live undaunted, unafraid
Of any step that I have made;
To be without pretense or sham
Exactly what men think I am.

To leave some simple mark behind
To keep my having lived in mind,
If enmity to aught I show,
To be an honest, generous foe,
To play my little part, nor whine
That greater honors are not mine.
This, I believe, is all I need
For my philosophy and creed.

By Edgar A. Guest