Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

by | Nov 28, 2025 | Winter Poems, Poems, Poetry

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

‘Kind Hearts are the Gardens’ 

‘Kind Hearts are the Gardens’ 

by | Nov 28, 2025 | Kindness Poems, Poems, Poetry

Kind Hearts are the Gardens 

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

Kind hearts are the gardens,

Kind thoughts are the roots,

Kind words are the flowers,

Kind deeds are the fruits.

Take care of your garden,

And keep out the weeds,

Fill it with sunshine;

Kind words and kind deeds.

Kindness Matters

Kindness Matters

by | Nov 28, 2025 | Kindness Poems, Poems, Poetry

Kindness Matters by Bedzines

Now before I begin this poem, allow me to preface it with a warning and play devil’s advocate for a moment. I know many who are kind of heart can have many second thoughts about being so ” out there ” with acts of kindness. Many might say it makes one too vulnerable to predators who will only see weakness and take advantage of such acts. That these acts of kindness are a horizontal rather than a vertical progression that can actually be an impediment to success and rise in the world we live in today. That they may actually be reason enough for others to belittle and cause pain.

IF SO.. Then WHY DO WE KEEP DOING THEM ?
Could it be because there is a sense of magic attached to the act of making one smile ; a sense of adventure that makes the heart pump faster of where this act may take one; an adrenalin rush that one can feel surging through their veins when one realizes that one has actually made a difference in someone else’s life..

Perhaps, THAT’S WHY WE DO IT!! Well, I for one, would not exchange those moments for ANYTHING else in this world; not for any pot of gold; not for any higher position, BECAUSE there is no greater feeling of fulfillment or grace then to be there for someone else in their time of need.. and with that said, I will begin my poem.

One act of kindness is all it takes.. To make the moon smile back..

One act of kindness is all it takes.. To feel the sun’s embrace..
One act of kindness is all it takes.. To turn a spark into a flame..

One act of kindness is all it takes.. To create a water fall..
One act of kindness is all it takes.. for a rainbow to show it’s colors..

One kind word is all it takes.. To put the world at peace..

One kind word is all it takes.. For bees to make their honey..

One kind word is all it takes.. To drown out all that thunder..

One kind word is all it takes.. To make the flowers blossom ..

One kind word is all it takes.. To shape one’s world to be..

If only one would take the time.. To be there for another.. Perhaps the world would.. Be more primed to dance and sing together..

And learn to understand.. Where another lives.. Perhaps they would be more inclined.. To live and let things be..

Perhaps the world would try to see.. The value of being ME !!

Kindness by Sylvia Plath

Kindness by Sylvia Plath

by | Nov 28, 2025 | Kindness Poems, Poems, Poetry

Kindness by Sylvia Plath

Kindness glides about my house.
Dame Kindness, she is so nice!
The blue and red jewels of her rings smoke
In the windows, the mirrors
Are filling with smiles.

What is so real as the cry of a child?
A rabbit’s cry may be wilder
But it has no soul.
Sugar can cure everything, so Kindness says.
Sugar is a necessary fluid,

Its crystals a little poultice.
O kindness, kindness
Sweetly picking up pieces!
My Japanese silks, desperate butterflies,
May be pinned any minute, anesthetized.

And here you come, with a cup of tea
Wreathed in steam.
The blood jet is poetry,
There is no stopping it.
You hand me two children, two roses.

Greater Love by Wilfred Owen

Greater Love by Wilfred Owen

by | Nov 28, 2025 | Love Poems, Poems, Poetry

Red lips are not so red
As the stained stones kissed by the English dead.
Kindness of wooed and wooer
Seems shame to their love pure.
O Love, your eyes lose lure
When I behold eyes blinded in my stead!

Your slender attitude
Trembles not exquisite like limbs knife-skewed,
Rolling and rolling there
Where God seems not to care;
Till the fierce love they bear
Cramps them in death’s extreme decrepitude.

Your voice sings not so soft,-
Though even as wind murmuring through raftered loft,-
Your dear voice is not dear,
Gentle, and evening clear,
As theirs whom none now hear,
Now earth has stopped their piteous mouths that coughed.

Heart, you were never hot
Nor large, nor full like hearts made great with shot;
And though your hand be pale,
Paler are all which trail
Your cross through flame and hail:
Weep, you may weep, for you may touch them not.

Wilfred Owen

The Obit by Ethelbert Miller

The Obit by Ethelbert Miller

by | Nov 25, 2025 | Book Poems, Poems, Poetry

After reading my obituary
folks went to their local bookstores
looking for my books. For a few days I was often quoted
like Baldwin and
people went looking for T-shirts with my image. My
books rested on the desks of teachers filled with
bookmarks, notes, and underlined words. Someone said
a critic once said Ethelbert’s poems failed because they
were filled with too much desire and despair. The world
doesn’t need another Neruda. Ethelbert in his last
interview said
“Love is a fragile thing and will always suffocate in
darkness.”