The Best Thing For Me
Years seemingly like
The Dark Ages vaguely
This heart's sight
In Pain lived blindly
No Hope of redemption
Or of being set free
Much like a prison
Sentenced unjustly
Then sunset years
Have awakened late
You're suddenly here
Isn't this a long wait?
Our lives now entwined
It blends perfectly
And this is what I find
You're the best thing for me!
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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It's For Me
Poetry for me, is just like breathing
I inhale Life and exhale poems
It's for me - I do the writing
No matter, if ever, comments come.
As chosen words come out soothing
Release the pained and burdened heart
I find relief in simply writing
Touching others with what I impart.
But always the joy is within me
The reading by others may truly bless
I'm grateful they read my poetry
But the writing is my true happiness!
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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A Paradox
Strange how Truth reveals
Hidden motives for a cause
With passing time it deals
Quite harshly with no pause.
Many get deluded still
By fancy trappings laid
But when exposed they always will
Unmask Deception made.
For deep analysis entails
Appropriate scrutiny
Good judgment must not fail
When it involves great Money.
Beware of stories woven
Shown by a guileful Fox
For even the Good has fallen
Victim to a paradox.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Sandpapers
Some people rub us the wrong way
Although they do not mean to
But still it takes our joy away
And dampens moods, it's true.
People have the best intentions
But sometimes say wrong things
Wrong words invite contention
And then come the bruised feelings.
Some people are sandpapers
They seem to be born that way
I think it is so much better
To shrug the shoulders, smile it away.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Strange That We Should Feel This Way
Strange that we should feel this way
And yet it goes on
Like flowing streams
In endless days
And haunting
Like a love song.
Strange that you and I both tied
To other loves now here
Like caged birds
We then sing inside
When all the while
We smile in tears.
Strange that we should feel
This love in distant shores
Knowing that our hearts still
Belong to them we loved
Before.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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One Nation Under God' -The Only Way
'One nation under God'
Recall that phrased foundation
When Americans were so glad
Its fathers built the nation
On steadfast godly principles
Of Truth, Faith, and Honor,
His Word then guided all the people
And progress blessed like none before.
'One nation under God'
Return to this, your steady Rock
Only in Him the nation stands
A sure foundation, the Building Block
God bless America and protect it with His Hand.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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I Better Sleep on a Saturday
Oh what a lazy afternoon!
Nagging heat lulls me to sleepy dreams
And how the siesta hours swoon
To nap the drowsy head it seems.
Still I can try one cup of coffee
The antidote may work to kill
The sleep and keep my eyelids free
From the sluggish way that I now feel.
One cup, two cups - resist! Awaken!
There's work to do and bills to pay
The delivery date can't be forsaken
So I better sleep on a zzzzzzzzzzzSaturday!
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Root Of Evil Is Insanity
The Root of Evil is Rejection
There is the need to get even, attack
A paranoid act toward Destruction
For imagined offense - to fight back!
The Root of Evil is Corruption
Absence of light, love, or goodness.
The aim is only to create Disruption
Perhaps to gain Attention, such a mess!
The Root of the Evil is Insanity
No valid Reason, Logic, or Cause.
Just the need for Demented folly
The end itself is sure Mental Loss.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Wisdom Is A Gem
Wealth is mere emptiness,
Compared to gems of Wisdom.
For knowing Righteousness
Is like posssssing a kingdom.
Like a weighing scale of Insight
Discerning right from wrong,
Guidance gained to shed light
In times of trials, it makes one strong.
Wisdom gives a better view
Of life and of Adversity,
It separates the false from the true
And reveals the way for Integrity.
--------------- ---
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Atheist Day
Today is aptly said and had
As a day for Fools who say
Their maxim vain - 'There is no God'
Pride seals their fate away.
For such is the rigid sentiment
Of these atheists refusing
To face the Truthful statement
That God is indeed existing.
And thus like stubborn mules
Who would not budge an inch
These unbelieving April Fools
Today we give a little pinch.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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