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.

Kindness by Edgar Albert Guest

Kindness by Edgar Albert Guest

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

Kindness

One never knows
How far a word of kindness goes;
One never sees
How far a smile of friendship flees.
Down, through the years,
The deed forgotten reappears.

One kindly word
The souls of many here has stirred.
Man goes his way
And tells with every passing day,
Until life’s end:
“Once unto me he played the friend.”

We cannot say
What lips are praising us to-day.
We cannot tell
Whose prayers ask God to guard us well.
But kindness lives
Beyond the memory of him who gives.

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.”

Love is More Thicker Than Forget

Love is More Thicker Than Forget

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

love is more thicker than forget

 E. E. Cummings

love is more thicker than forget
more thinner than recall
more seldom than a wave is wet
more frequent than to fail
it is most mad and moonly
and less it shall unbe
than all the sea which only
is deeper than the sea
love is less always than to win
less never than alive
less bigger than the least begin
less littler than forgive
it is most sane and sunly
and more it cannot die
than all the sky which only
is higher than the sky
Copyright Credit: E.E. Cummings, “[love is more thicker than forget]” from Complete Poems 1904-1962

These Inward Trials

These Inward Trials

by | Nov 25, 2025 | Poems, Prayer Poems, Religious Poems

These Inward Trials

I asked the Lord, that I might grow
In faith, and love, and every grace;
Might more of His salvation know,
And seek more earnestly His face.

T’was He who taught me thus to pray
and He I trust has answered prayer,
but it has been in such a way
it almost drove me to despair.

I hoped that in some favored hour
At once He’d answer my request,
and by His love’s constraining power
Subdue my sins, and give me rest.

Instead of this, He made me feel
the hidden evils of my heart;
And let the angry powers of hell
Assault my soul in every part.

Yea more, with His own hand He seemed
Intent to aggravate my woe;
Crossed all the fair designs I schemed,
Blasted my gourds, and laid me low.

‘Lord, why is this?’ I trembling cried,
‘Wilt thou pursue Thy worm to death?’
‘This in this way,’ the Lord replied,
‘I answer prayer for grace and faith.

These inward trials I employ
From self and pride to set thee free;
And break thy schemes of earthly joy,
That thou mayst seek thy all in Me.’

John Newton