Poems of Faith

When Bahá’u’lláh Was Born

One day at dawn
A Child was born
A quiet Child
A royal Child
A Light from God had come to Earth
That dark November morn.

His mother said
He never cried.
Amazing Child
Contented Child
The Prince of Peace, a gift from God,
Had come to be our Guide.

This quiet Child
Would use no sword
No angry voice
No pounding fists.
He grew to use a Pen of Might
To share God’s sacred Word.

We celebrate
That wondrous morn
Because the Child
That quiet Child
Bahá’u’lláh, a gift from God,
The Promised One was born.

When Bahá’u’lláh Was Born PDF

Poems of Family


Everyone laughs
Everyone cries
Everyone giggles
Everyone sighs
No matter our outsides
Our father or mother
We really and truly
Belong to each other

Everyone hurts
Everyone grins
Everyone loses
Everyone wins
Fat, tall, thin, short
In one shade or another
We really and truly
Belong to each other

Everyone thinks
Everyone knows
Everyone touches
Everyone grows
In each shining face
Is a sister or brother
We really
And truly
Belong to each other

Everyone PDF


Poems of Friends

A Traveler’s Tale

A-hiking o’er the mountainside
Midst fog and gloom and wood,
I came upon a little man
A-weeping where he stood.
He beat his breast with heavy hands
And sighed, “She’s gone for good.”

Great tears splashed down from one small eye
And, ach, his nose was red.
His hair flew wildly ‘round his face
As if to flee his head.
I bent to offer comfort, but
“She’s gone,” was all he said.

So down I sat and pulled a great
Big hankie from my vest.
The troll reached out (he was a troll)
And held it to his chest
Then wiped his eye and blew his nose
And moaned, “I should have guessed.”

“Guessed what?” I ventured quietly,
For soon I hoped to hear
The fellow’s tale to lighten thus
His load and offer cheer.
“My precious love, my sweet, sweet love
Is gone fore’er from here.”

“Full two months past,” the troll went on
“I met a lovely thing
So delicate and fair of face
And amethyst of wing!
She was a fairy of the glade
And made my heart to sing.”

“Alas, the Fairy Queen herself
Grew jealous of my joy.
The loved that danced throughout the glade
She threatened to destroy.
‘Be still! Be sad! Be gone!’ she screamed,
‘You ugly hag troll’s boy.’”

“Before the queen’s words left her lips,
My fairy love so dear
Began to turn a pale, pale green,
To shrink and disappear.
The Fairy Queen laughed long and left.
And thus, you see me here.”

Again the troll began to cry.
His tears splashed on the ground
And lo, from down beneath his feet
There came the sweetest sound.
“I’m here, my love,” a lilting voice
Did gently echo ‘round.

Small heart-shaped leaves and slender stem
Sprang forth from earth below.
A bud appeared and, wondrously,
A flower began to grow
Until a purple blossom shaped
Like wings swayed to and fro.

And as it swayed, it touched the troll.
His ruddy face turned white.
“This is my jewel,” he cried, “my gem,
Transformed before my sight.”
That gloomy wood, that foggy glade
Shone gently gold with light.

I left him there, the little troll
So lately I had met,
And if you come to where I stood,
You’ll see him standing yet
Beside his flow’r, his lovely flow’r,
His precious violet.

A Traveler’s Tale PDF

Poems of Friends

Carrie and Harry

There once was a plant
Who grew in a pot
From a little seed tended by Carrie.
She loved his green leaves
And fuzzy blue flowers
And gave him her favorite name: Harry.

Harry was happy there
In his red pot
Near a window, so round and so sunny.
And every night,
Carrie would tell him good jokes
That he usually thought were quite funny.

Then one Sunday morning,
Carrie found out
That one of her buddies was ill.
She thought and she thought
About what she could do.
Write a verse, make a card, send a pill?

She talked with her mom
Who just happened to be
A wise and wonderful botanist.
They thought about presents
That would be the best
To help friends feel better, not rottenest.

“Now this might be hard,”
Her mom said out loud.
“But your friend would get better with Harry.”
And Carrie remembered
That plants could be helpful
In sickness. “Well, maybe,” said Carrie.

You see, Carrie knew
What some people don’t.
To keep sickness from getting much worser,
Plants can breathe out
What people breathe in,
And this miracle works vice versa.

She shed several tears
And paced up and down
Before giving dear Harry away.
To whom could she read
And who would smile back
At her jokes at the end of the day?

Yes, Carrie took Harry
In his red pot
To live on a new window sill
Where Harry exhaléd
Some sweet oxygen
And he helped her friend stop being ill.

This friend was so grateful
He took a small seed
And grew a new plant of his own.
Then he gave Harry back
To his smart, funny friend
Who would no longer tell jokes alone.

Carrie and Harry PDF

Poems of Friends

Fire Chief O’My

The station was quiet.
The crew polished brass.
The steam from Joe’s chili
Fogged up all the glass.
Nearby, in her office,
Her work piled up high,
Sat Fire Chief Nelly
O’Mally O’My.

“I’ll catch up on papers’”
Thought hard-working Nell.
“No building’s on fire.”
But just then the loud bell
In the firehouse clanged
As it called all the crew.
And they jumped in their boots
Hats, and coats. Nell did, too.

They turned on the sirens.
Their lights sprinkled red.
The fire trucks pulled up
To a flame-circled shed.
High up on the roof
Shook Ted Smith and son Cy.
“Aim the hoses! Bring nets, team!”
Called Fire Chief O’My.

Now Nelly was worried.
The flames rose up higher.
It seemed Ted and Cy
Just might die in the fire.
The crew battled on
With brave Nell helping, too.
She fed faith and strength
To her firehouse crew.

Old Ted Smith and his son
Jumped to safety that day.
All the smoke disappeared.
All the fear drained away.
“Well done,” cried the mayor.
“You saved Ted and his boy!”
“That’s our job,” smiled the chief,
Her heart racing with joy.

Back at the station,
The fire trucks were cleaned.
The firefighters polished
‘Til everything gleamed.
Chief O’My praised her workers,
Each one of her men.
Now the danger was done
And the town safe again.

The firefighters glowed
With the praises of Nell.
Spoons dipped in Joe’s chili,
Ears aimed toward the bell
That would summon anew
All the crew with the cry,
“There’s a fire. Call Chief Nelly
O’Malley O’My!”

Fire Chief O’My PDF

Poems of Family

The Reluctant Seed

In the dark, dark earth
Small Darcy Seed was all curled up,
Softly humming to himself throughout the spring.
How he loved his gentle life
With naught to do but rest and think
And smile and wait and giggle quietly and sing.

Above his head, below his knees,
His parents’ roots gently entwined.
Yes, they loved their little seedling snuggling near.
But as the days rolled slowly by
And other seeds began to sprout,
The parents’ thought began to turn to doubt and fear.

“Mr. Sun,” they called out loud,
“What shall we do with our small seed?
He’s lying happily, content to rest and hum.”
“Where is his nest?” the sun inquired.
“I’ll send out special warming rays.
He’s just not ready, but his sprouts will surely come.”

And, sure enough, old Mr. Sun
Glowed gently, thinking of the child,
And comfy, cozy, peaceful warmth flowed all around
That little sleepy Darcy Seed.
He turned his shell to feel the rays
Which softly, tenderly soaked through the cold, dark ground.

No shoots appeared. Now Mom and Dad
Were mighty worried once again.
“Suppose we call on Mrs. Rain to help us out?”
They raised their shiny, suppliant leaves.
“Dear Mrs. Rain, please shower down.
Our stubborn baby isn’t growing. Not one sprout.”

The soothing rain gave forth her best,
Most charming raindrops to the seed.
Darcy turned once more and let the drops seep in.
And, really, quite against his will,
The hardened seed began to swell.
Darcy yawned and felt a stretching urge begin.

In the dark, dark earth,
Darcy Seed stuck out a root.
It was so tiny that it almost didn’t show.
Mr. Sun and Mrs. Rain
Had worked their magic once again.
Small Darcy Seed felt loved enough to crack and grow.

You should see him now.
Darcy Seed is one fine plant.
Healthy roots and shiny leaves have blossomed out.
Darcy loved the peace
Of the dark, dark earth,
But he gave it up to take a chance and sprout.

The Reluctant Seed PDF

Poems of Family

My Nana Is Perfect

My nana sings in bathtubs
and toy stores
and parking lots.

My nana gives me presents
and toothpaste
and polka dots.

My nana takes me shopping
and swinging
and to the zoo.

My nana likes my drawings
my dollhouse
my kangaroo.

My nana’s good at napping
and popcorn
and picture books.

My nana’s brave with splinters
And spiders
And fishing hooks.

My nana hides the band-aids
and lipstick
and china dolls.

My nana gets things backwards
like slippers
and overalls.

My nana feeds me liver
and okra
and barley grass.

My nana cries at soccer
and play group
and dancing class!

But when the rocker holds us
And stars are dressed in sparkles,
I snuggle with my nana
And give her tiny kisses.

She sings about a baby
A-rockin’ in her cradle
And tells me how my elbows
Are so much like my daddy’s.

She says “I love you darlin’.”
And I say, “Me too, Nana.”

You see?
My nana is perfect.

My Nana Is Perfect PDF

Poems of Faith

The Sweetest Word

I heard a brand new word today
I’d never heard before.
My mom and dad were talking
And I heard them through the door.
Their voices sounded happy
Quietly—no “Ha ha ha!”
They almost sang that special magic word:

i wonder what the word can mean
And why I feel so glad.
Is this new word a present?
“Such a gift!” whispered my dad.
They always get excited
Chanting, “O Bahá’u’lláh”
I’m sure He must have given this to us:

Tonight when I am ready
For my prayer and Hidden Word,
I’ll tell my mom and dad
About their talk I overheard
And if they think I’m much too young
I’ll ask ‘Abdu’l-Bahá
To tell me in my dreams about this sweet

The Sweetest Word PDF

Poems of Faith

A Rock Is Patient

A rock is patient
It sits through lightning, snow and grime
Rocks don’t complain, they take the time to change
A rock is patient

A plant is patient
A seed grows when the time’s just right
It knows the day’s for sun, the night’s for rest
A plant is patient

A cow is patient
It stands all day to chew and eat
It gives us milk in cold and heat and rain
A cow is patient

Sometimes I’m patient
When people ask, I stop and wait
Sometimes it’s hard, but it feels great to know
I can be patient

The Master was patient
He did just what God asked him to
I hope I grow up like ‘Abdu’l-Bahá
For He was patient

A Rock Is Patient PDF

Poems of Friends

Wild, Wild Wally and the Magic Loom

In the dark, dark land of the dukedom of Mmadd
Lived big creatures all stringy and hairy.
And the loudest and largest and maddest of all
Was old wild, wild Wally D. Clarey.

Old Wally was quite in the habit, you see,
(As were all of his Mmadd fellow creatures)
Of yelling and whining and hard’ning his heart.
Shades of anger marked all of his features.

Gentle folk from outside of his kingdom so dark
Sometimes strayed by mistake ‘cross the borders.
But they didn’t stay long. Or were ne’er seen again
By their mothers, their sons, dads, or daughters.

One Wednesday, Wild Wally was walking along
Through a typical afternoon shower
When he noticed a hut hidden back in the leaves
By a rosebush just starting to flower.

“I ain’t never nohow seen that hut in the trees,”
Thought Wild Wally. “It shouldn’t be here.”
With wild earsplitting shouts, he galumphed toward the door
When a magical song reached his ear.

Now that song wasn’t loud. But it somehow stretched out
To Wild Wally beneath his loud roars.
And his heart, which was almost as solid as granite,
Was pulled, very gently, indoors.

The room that he entered was soothingly dim.
There was just enough twilight to see
A few bodies as stringy and tall as his own
Sitting, standing, or on bended knee.

All the Mmaddites were watching and humming along
To a rhythm embracing the room.
This soft beat was produced by a plump little creature
Who worked without pause at her loom.

Wild, Wild Wally had kept his new anger inside
From surprise at the most odd surroundings.
Now, all of a sudden, his heart creaked and groaned,
And his strong hairy arms began pounding.

But just as he bellowed his best angry roar,
All the threads in the loom started glowing.
Wally’s pounding was stilled by the sight of the weft
From which sparkles and star trails were flowing.

“I am weaving,” began the sweet voice at the loom,
“Bonds of friendship and love with each heart.”
The room shone with the light of her words and her work.
Wild, Wild Wally felt happiness start.

And the happiness warmed him. It grew and it grew
Until Wally’s face cracked with a grin.
And you wouldn’t have known Wild, Wild Wally D. Clarey
If you’d been his kith or his kin.

Thus the creatures stayed on, warmed and tamed by the light,
And absorbed all the love that did shower
From the loom of the lady whose actions and song
Helped each stony heart soften and flower.

One by one, every creature in Mmadd made his way
To that magical house in the gloom.
And as years passed, the dukedom of Mmadd changed its name
To the Land of the Love of the Loom.

And Wild Wally? “What happened to him?” you might ask.
“Is he really not angry and mean?”
Well, he married the woman who weaves and who loves,
And their home is at peace and serene.

Wild, Wild Wally and the Magic Loom PDF