Guardian Angels
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© 2009 - Ben Heine

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There Is an
Angel in Heaven

A poem by Peter S. Quinn

There is an angel in heaven,
He's awake until eleven;
You can hold to his hand
And he'll try to understand,
Why your heart is angry and bitter,
And he'll try to make it fitter
So the future for you will glitter.

There are roads to walk across
And you are your only boss,
But your angel will guide you through
Because he knows what to do;
So don't let your hope become lost
Or frostbitten in your frost.
Be saved by an angel, who tries,
He knows both your lowness and highs;
Find refuge in love and kindness,
Hope you try this and God bless.
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Penniless
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© 2008 - Ben Heine

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The Economy

By Linda Settles

Living above it
I go on the web and the bad news is posted every day
Our nation and indeed the world, is in a "bad way,"
As my Grandpa used to say.

Banks have failed and panic reigns in the capitals of kings
Homes are lost as markets crumble & wealth takes wings
and vanishes from our life scene.

If our wealth is our power and our primary source of security
We may be tempted to find a window-- as many in the thirties
did and jump from floor thirteen.

Before we open windows and pull up a chair in our despair
We should stop, and reconsider our decision...
All is not lost and poverty is not a prison.

All losses we experience --here-- on this terrestrial plane
Are merely preparation for the treasures we will gain
If we will look beyond the prospect of our pain

We'll see a world that hid behind our wealth and prosperity
Treasures that are unaffected by this world's economy
We'll walk the woods, as Grandpa did.

A simple man, without a B.A., M.A., or PhD
His house was humble, his friends were many
and I knew that he loved me.

The woods, the streams, and even mosquito infested swamps
Were treasures in his eyes, Maybe Grandpa, after all
Knew where to find the prize

Of living well, a simple life that needed few possessions
The sunset, a deer taken, or a turkey call--a few concessions
to his comforts--these were his mansions.

What is there to fear in the instability of our economy
If we live like Grandpa did? In the midst of what some call poverty
He learned to live each day and to be free.

World markets may crumble and the Dow take its plunge
But we won't be affected if our economy is love.

(The poem appeared on authorsden.com)

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