A Favorite Poem By William Wordsworth
This is a poem I had to learn by heart in high school as a project for my English class. I have loved reading it ever since then. Hope you enjoy my reading. Please leave a comment.

This is a poem I had to learn by heart in high school as a project for my English class. I have loved reading it ever since then. Hope you enjoy my reading. Please leave a comment.
Today I had so many things to smile about; I wish you find something to smile about and that it lasts all day.
Poemattic: Poetry and Art for the Soul
Sometimes you just need to smile
even when the pain is deep
and measures more than a mile
Refer yourself to happiness
no matter how big the mess
for sometimes the plan is done
and there is
not much you can do
with the what or the who
So smile
even if it is just for a little while.
Just smile.
Today we commemorate the victims of 911. 21 years have passed since that dreadful day. I was watching the ceremony that is aired today and I was touched to see the children of some of the victims reading the names aloud. They are all adults now. Some parents themselves. Some speaking of their grandparents as being some of the first police officers and firefighters to respond to the tragedy that horrible day.
Today is a bitter sweet day; September 11th this year is also Grandparent’s Day. Some of us will remember our grandparents now long gone and for others still blessed to have a grandparent, it is a day to call or simply send hugs and kisses to them.
As a grandparent, I looked at pictures of my grandsons and granddaughters. First the baby pictures then the pictures sent to me through a text message or an email. I have pictures of them all around the house to remind me how blessed we are to have them in our lives.
Today I want to share the podcast I dedicated to my grandmother. She was the only grandparent I ever knew. The others had passed before I was even born. I knew of them and cherished their memory because my mother and father made sure I know who they were. They were hardworking and each had a special talent.
Happy Grandparent’s Day to all grandparents out there. I hope you enjoy listening to my poem. Please send me a comment and do not forget to answer the poll I posted.
To all those who lost love ones on 911, I know the pain is huge. Especially to the mothers among you, I know now how immense the loss of an adult child can be. God bless you all. God bless all those who helped to try and rescue people that day. God bless all those who remain united and conserve our democracy. To my beautiful niece who survived and still remembers that traumatic experience, I love you very much. May God bless America.
On this rainy day I was sipping on some soup and wished for one of Sam’s great sandwiches. Amazing how things come to visit your mind. I still remember Sam so vividly; and I still believe that gun violence needs to be eliminated.
Poemattic: Poetry and Art for the Soul
“Nonviolence is absolute commitment to the way of love. Love is not emotional bash; it is not empty sentimentalism. It is the active outpouring of one’s whole being into the being of another.”
–Martin Luther King, Jr., 1957
Sam’s Deli
the minute you walked in
the aroma of fresh baked Italian bread
linked you to Tuscany
and the faint scent of salami and
provolone
mesmerized your senses.
Sam greeted everyone
with a magnificent smile
and by the count of five
he was spreading mayo
on the long skinny roll
just the way you liked it.
he layered the cold cuts
meticulously
his technique never failed
to produce the best sandwich
Everyone loved Sam
and of course his sandwiches.
One day, after school
Joe, his brother walked into the deli
just like he had done everyday for many years.
This time he found Sam dead
laying behind the meat slicer counter.
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I often listen to sad songs to remind me that having lost someone means that you also loved someone so deeply. A song can help bring back a sweet memory and also in a weird way help you through the grieving process.. This song by Ed Sheeran is a poem.
Sometimes I think I may survive today,
and then worry about tomorrow
some other day.
But life is too short
to live life worrying about survival.
Life is too short to live it fully;
and it is too short to die young
even when you all your dreams come true.
Every day is a new day;
today is no different.
Sometimes I think I may survive today;
so I will just worry about tomorrow
some other day.
I wonder about the ovations given in heaven
when a true saint walks through the pearly gates
A single piano key plays
A church sonata in four movements
so no forgets the terrestrial seasons
then,
a nightingale sings.
Poemattic: Poetry and Art for the Soul
Life is about cycles. There is a time for everything. I try to represent this in the painting. The highlights are the moments that count, some unpredictable, some planned. I love the surprises; I welcome the challenges when life decides to spin me around. Happy cycling. We are given only a certain amount of cycles. Make them count.
Melba Christie
Hope you enjoy the podcast. Please send me your comments and suggestions for future podcasts.
I have been recording some of my poems for my podcast on Spotify. Please tune in and leave a comment. I will truly appreciate your support. I am lining up a few interviews with colleagues and friends. Topics will be about many of the issues that resonate with all of us these days.
https://open.spotify.com/embed/episode/26y7BMqwSiDIAYoUoMwICl?utm_source=generator
Mary Oliver is one of my favorite poets. I reread her poems in her collection- Why I Wake Early. Her poems are always an inspiration and also a source of calm.
Image by Pavan Prasad from Pixabay
Thank the Artist
Sometimes I think you can say things best only once. Love you Dad.
Poemattic: Poetry and Art for the Soul
A tall oak hovers high
Sun rays slip through its strong limbs
I remember Dad!
Remembering My Dad
My dad was not a very tall man.
But he was tall enough
to protect us from harm.
He was our sunshine,
everytime he smiled.
His kindness was eternal;
He’d always go the extra mile.
He befriended those who seemed
to need a friend the most
and when it came to celebrating life
he was the best of hosts.
Everytime I look up at the sky
I want to think
he is looking down.
I know he is present
in all the things
he taught me how to love.
Like opera and tangos,
Daisies and even sweet mangoes.
My father was not a tall man
but he was a giant to me
My hero, my protector,
A prince
for all my friends to envy.
Today I think of you more than ever
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