Make your own free website on Tripod.com
Poems and Such
for and by Buddies With Diabetes
 
submit your poems and such for publication to De, Kerry, or Gina

Holiday Rhyme - Herb Suppose
Johnny Boy - Herb Bad News, Good News - Herb
I'll win this war! - Diane 6
7  
   


I'll win this war!

On the downhill slide again....
I know I will make it..
But when?
I'm so fed up with being ill....
So tired...
So drained....
So washed out....
But then....
There are people who care.
People who I can share this with
This awful time has come again.
But then.....
The sun will shine again!
Iwill fight on to beat this turmoil...
So at the rest of my life...
I will not spoil.
I will not let this get me down....
Its happened to often where i've just frowned....
Thus time I'll win like I did before...
I'll stay on top...
I'll win this war!!!!!

Diane suffers from Chrohns disease and it has cost her dearly and nearly her life on three occaisions. But she is a fighter and thats what keeps me going. One hell of a brave lady. Hope this inspires bob in australia. - Written by Diane, Bob's wife.

   
Holiday Rhyme
Thanksgiving is here And Christmas is very near
Our minds are filled with thoughts sincere
And our hearts with memories so dear
As we think of holidays past
Complete with a cold wintry blast
The memories flood back so fast
The kind that last and last
All the seasons lights
That shine so bright
And make such a sight
Dispelling the dark of night
A cup of chocolate so hot
A turkey in the pot
Rich with worldly goods we are not
But of the things that count we have a lot
The family is gathered around
The spirit of the season abounds
The house is filled with holiday sounds
A gay happy spirit we have all found
The children are running in and out
Wrapping paper, ribbon, and tape lay all about
Grandma's worried the dressing will give her the gout
Uncle John is drunk, the lout
We hear the ringing of bells
And recogninze the holiday smells
The news of a troubled world we quell
As all our plans begin to jell
To the music we turn an ear
Just like we did last year
Songs about reindeer
Convince us we have nothing to fear
We are content with who we are
Even though we might not have come very far
We know that we have yet to cross that bar
Into that promised land afar
We realize that this is what life is all about
We finally figured it out
Memories, ours and theirs is what life is all about
We finally figured it our

Herb (Bear)

Suppose

Suppose, my little lady,
Your foll should break her head;
Could you make it whole by crying
Till your eyes and nose were red?
And wouldn't it be pleasaner
To treat it as a joke,
And say you're glad 'twas dolly's
And not your own that broke?

Suppose you're dressed for walking,
And the rain comes pouring down;
Will it clear off any sooner
Because you scold and frown?
And wouldn't it be nicer
For you to smile than pout,
And so make sunshine in the house
When there is none without?

Suppose your task, little man,
Is very hard to get;
Will it make it any easier
For you to sit and fret?
And wouldn't it be wiser,
Than waiting like a dunce,
To go to work in earnest and learn the thing at once?

Suppose that some boys have a horse,
And some a coach and pair;
Will it tire you less whle walking
To say, "It isn't fair!"?
And wouldn't it be nobler
To keep your temper sweet,
And in your heart be thankful
You can walk upon your feet?

Suppose the world don't please you.
Nor the way some people to;
Do you think the whole creation
Will be altered just for you?
And isn't it, my boy or girl,
The wisest, bravest plan,
Whatever comes, or doesn't come,
To do the best you can?

(By Phoebe Cary)

Brought to you by JOHN V., who wished he would have thought it up himself.


Johnny Boy

John you old rascally you
You're making us feel very blue
We are all so sad
To hear that you are feeling bad
And that you need to cut back
And enjoy a little slack
Excuse us for making a fuss
Cause you have helped all of us
With your injections of fun
By inserting your puns
Always with a wit so wry
And humor so dry
You refer to newspapers rolled
And Venetians so bold
As to never allow us Martians
To ask any questions
Concerning why our work is never done
Or why the battle of the sexes is never won
You remind us when we get sad
That we really don't have it so bad
With this disease we all own
You won't allow us with self pity to get overblown
You remind us real quick and easy
How things use to be
Back in the olden days
As our spirits you raise
Compelling us to be grateful
As in our minds we mull
The facts that you so freely give
Making us grateful to live
Forgetting to be blue
We are all thankful to share this world with you

Herb (Bear)


Bad News, Good News

Bad news, good news, good news, bad news
It's enough to give me the blues
I have to give out with a big sigh
As I try to figure out why
So many troubles come our way
In order to complicate our day
Mixed with news that is good
Which puts us in a positive mood
As from positive to negative we sway
Causing us the BS demons to pay
One moment it's low
Then comes the blow
It's as high as the sky
When it's high the family is always aware
They accuse me of becoming an old bear
That my teeth turn to fangs
And I should be running with the street gangs
I don't really believe that it is so
Anger is something I develop quite slow
Actually I'm just a big teddy bear
With a shape a lot like a pear
John knows what I mean
As we duck a newspaper to the bean
Picked on and put upon
Our independence is completely gone
Our lives are not much fun
Everyone knows a Martian's work is never done

Herb (Bear)