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Poems about Life - Page 7 by Bill Childers

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The Winning

I shall not be, O Lord I pray,
That one who thinks only of gain.
But rather, O Lord, that one
Whose life is not shattered by pain!

I know there may very well be times
I'll shrink away from a thronging crowd.
I may choose to be quite different
I might not stand forward with the proud!

I pray O Lord, it will not be fear
That will hold from the post,
But, only O Master, a driving need
To derive the ultimate from the cost!

To run at the lead, to set the pace,
Would seem the natural choice to seek.
Yet, to shirk the lead, a different stride,
Is not always the symbol of the weak.

Thus, note not my faltering pace O God,
Look not with shame on the little I've done.
Yet, search my soul, examine my Spirit...
For the stunning victory you've won!

Bill Childers
Copyright: 2003

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The Chase

Aye, hounds and horses chase the hunted,
So certain of what they can do.
The horns wail,
Man runs the dale...
Thinking seldom, if ever of pain to ensue!

Aye, but the hunted knows a thing or two,
Having lived ere his smell is known.
Though wiley he be,
Many think smarter than he,
There is much he has not shown!

Ah, the fox and the hounds, a mated pair,
Though they seem to seek different aims.
There is much alike
In the pose they strike...
They are never playing different games.

There are those who always lose the chase,
Though thinking they always have control.
They who ride the chase,
Surely they've won the race...
Lose the fox... along with the pot of gold!

Bill Childers
Copyright: 2003

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My daddy always said, "Play by the rules,
If you find you can't, don't play!"
It's like, if you don't have the right tools,
Don't go searching for another way.

He always told my brother and me,
"Nothing's important enough
To forget how you've been told to be"...
Words meant to be easy, not rough.

He said, "When you don't like the rules,
You most likely don't like the game anymore.
Because when you go and buy new tools...
You'll find a new job in store."

My brother was the one who knew
What tools it took for the work.
Even as years passed and we grew,
He still wore the biggest shirt!

He worked by the same rules as dad,
He never cut a corner for speed.
We'd work longer... and then be glad...
The pay came to pride... not greed!

Bill Childers
Copyright: 2003

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