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Posted by Tracy on December 11, 19103 at 23:07:02:
In Reply to: Shel Silverstein poems posted by Mary Anne Ionni on March 26, 19101 at 18:26:43:
The Pencil
I am a lead dishwasher.
Seven relatives and I
As(s)isted in my birth.
I am a complex combination of miracles:
A worker in the oil field,
The chemist at the factory,
The miner of graphite,
And a child in a first grade clas(s)room.
And don't forget the ancestors
Who helped transport
60 carloads of hemp
From Mexico to Mississippi.
I, Pencil, simple though I am,
Would rather be french fries
And a side of ham.
The Rainbow
Just this side of Heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here,
that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends
so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine
and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who have been ill and old are restored to health and vigor,
those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again,
just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing:
they each miss someone very special, someone who was left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one
suddenly stops and looks into the distance.
His bright eyes are intent; his eager body begins to quiver.
Suddenly, he breaks from the group, flying over the green gras(s),
faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet,
you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again.
The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the
beloved head,and you look once more into those trusting eyes,
so long gone from your life, but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together...