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Julie Little Poem
I sit staring at the child within the photograph.
Still so innocent; infectious is her laugh.
Mother and daughter in a world all thier own,
Sharing secrets and giggles; bond clearly shown.
The emotions captured, a true work of art.
Looking at the child within her mother's heart.
Now I see the child within a mother's heart.
Thoughts of mine are many, don't know where to start.
Not a single worry to bother these two.
Of moments like these, there are so very few.
Looking deeper still, I see more of the whole.
Come to light; she is the child within the soul.
The mother too, once a child within her soul.
Lost for a time, as Life tends to take it's toll.
Just close your eyes, and open your heart with me,
To reflect back on a mother's memory.
Set free by her own little girl's precious laugh,
Story of my child within the photograph.
Placed and published
2020 Anthology
P.s. It's Poetry
Selected submission
pg. 315
Copyright © Julie Little | Year Posted 2019
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Julie Little Poem
Tis the Holiday Season
To shop for no good reason
It is for Him, we are told
But those tales are getting old.
They want you to actually believe
In the 'Miracle Money' They recieve.
One thing said is really true:
That the Bible really did tell you
That He is the Shepherd that you seek;
His Followers- the Sheep; mild & meek
Must never question and must always obey
Or to be sent to Hell on Judgement Day.
Eternal flames you would endure
If your devotion is anything but pure.
Remember when 'Witches' were burned at the stake?
'Rebels'- they were burned for Loyaltie's sake.
'Blind Faith'- not to doubt His word,
For " He will take care of All 'Sheep' in His (Heard)."
The 'Fear of God' shall be bestowed
As 'the Dark Ages' has clearly showed
That if the Truth ever came about
Then the entire world would start to doubt,
As if to keep as little 'playtoys'
All the 'Great Leader's started raping little boys.
As young lads they are scared to die
As grown men they will never question why..
If the man states utter devotion
His wife will always second the notion.
The Devil is bad, yet it is God you Fear.
They tell you this, but you refuse to hear.
Time has come now the numbers still amaze
So many followers afraid to question Thine Ways.
Most afraid of Family or Friends,
Lives as they know them will find bitter ends.
A small amount may actually buy into it all,
These are the ones that get the Call.
Not even a single smidge of doubt,
They call themselves "the Devout."
They are trainable- can't you see?
Doing anything to live 'Eternally.'
The rest will continue to pretend to be 'Devine.'
For none of them are tall enough to carry a spine.
Beginnings were these days told before,
Leading into The season of 'always wanting more.'
Yesterday- Thankful for what we merely might hold,
Today- shopping to die looking for a pot of gold.
So the moral of my words I shall point out:
This day shall remain for the truly 'Devout.'
Copyright © Julie Little | Year Posted 2019
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Julie Little Poem
Last words spoken
Last will broken
Last love token
Last words spoken
Last soul shredded
Last imprint embedded
Last trauma threaded
Last soul shredded
Last fear realized
Last life immobilized
Last dream immortalized
Last fear realized
Last answers revealed
Last kiss sealed
Last fate unveiled
Last answers revealed
Last words mattered
Last dreams shattered
Last reserves scattered
Last words mattered
Last tears cried
Last years tried
Last empty pride
Last tears cried
Last battle fought
Last solace sought
Last fading thought
Last battle fought
Last love made
Last attempt played
Last memory fade
Last love made
Last words said
Last love fled
Last heart bled
Last words said
Copyright © Julie Little | Year Posted 2020
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Julie Little Poem
Here, they create
Art, not hate
Of the street
Without defeat
Share with all
The Graffitti Wall
Judgement naught
Art, self-taught
Self expressions
Mood reflections
Having fun
One day, done
Copyright © Julie Little | Year Posted 2022
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Julie Little Poem
It was a warm, bright, sunny day.
Anne let her two cats out to play.
Pooh, (the rocket), blasts off without care.
Peach takes his time getting anywhere.
Complete opposites in every way,
Agreeing only on the games they play.
Pooh is always in a hurry,
His world is hazy and blurry.
He is older, but dark like night.
So he thinks he is always right.
Always looking toward the sky,
If he gets faster, he can fly.
Peach is trying to see it all:
Everything large, everything small.
Like a turtle- steady and slow,
His world has a colorful glow.
Younger, drawn to colors bright like he,
Living life happy and care free.
Now these two are buds of the best-
Friendship most never would have guessed.
Always an adventure they will find.
Trouble finds them, of every kind.
Today no different, of course.
Hear crying, try to find its source.
They come up to the larger house,
& find a tiny crying mouse.
Not thinking the tired mouse will make it,
Offer a ride, hope he will take it.
Already dark when they reach their goal-
A well-hidden little mouse hole.
Just as mouse is climbing down,
Mama Mouse pops out of the ground.
As they began walking away,
Peach learns a lesson the hard way.
Anne grabs Peach and shuts the door.
Knows trouble, not what it's for.
She tells him, " Don't go out to play.
Stay inside the rest of today."
Mama Mouse comes and hugs him tight.
Anne sees this and makes things right.
Now a hero, there is no crime,
The wrong place at the right time.
04/21/23
"Write a Sweet fairytale for children with good outcome, (nobody gets hurt)...."
Poetry Contest
Entry submit
Sponsor: Bj Legros Kelly
Copyright © Julie Little | Year Posted 2023
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Julie Little Poem
What is Fear?
Is it only an emotion?
Or is it our inner self looking into a mirror?
Is it a way of life?
Or a way simply to survive?
Is it a way to dominate, control, over-power?
Or a way to satiate our evil-most desires?
Is fear a healthy, psychological trait,
Built- in to prevent our demise and seal our fate?
Is it a conscience?
Or simply man- made nonsense?
Perhaps a caution?
Is it a choice, or even an option?
Is it an instinct meant to aid in our fight to survive?
Or is it a learned behavior we have adapted to help us thrive?
Has fear of the Unknown kept us hidden in the dark?
Or has our ignorance created this quest for knowledge on which we all embark?
Are we afraid Because we do not Know?
Or afraid of What we do not Show?
Who can say what the term 'Fear' really means?
Is the meaning Concrete, or is it Abstract?
Does that make the definition Fiction, or is it a Fact?
Is it in our subconscious, like that of our dreams?
Is fear used by ourselves to keep us from doing what we dare?
Or used against us, keeping us happily unaware?
Is there such a thing as too much Fear?
Or do we need more to kick us into gear?
Was it Fear that led us into war after war?
There is no way to be completely sure.
So many questions have been pondered.
So many answers have been squandered.
One of Life's emotions we know so little about.
What little we do know, leaves much room for doubt.
There is one certainty, and only one:
"That of which we do not know, can be undone."
Our Quest for Knowledge has only just begun.
Did you honestly think you had won?
Pitiful Sheep, so blissfully unaware;
You have already lost this 'Battle of Wits,'
In Life's game of 'Psychological Warfare.'
Copyright © Julie Little | Year Posted 2019
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Julie Little Poem
There is no love
Like a child can give
There is no life
Like a child has to live
There is no beauty
Like a child can see
There is no angel
Like a child can be
There is no pain
Like a child can feel
There is no fantasy
Like a child sees as real
There is no faith
Like a child can believe
There is no impression
Like a child can leave
There is no fire
Like a child can burn
There is no knowledge
Like a child can learn
There is no joy
Like a child can bring
There is no song
like a child can sing
There is no dream
Like a child has made
There is no price
Like a child has paid
There is no plant
Like a child's favorite flower
There is no serenity
Like a child's sleeping hour
There is no heart
Like a child holds
There is no creation
Like a child molds
There is no battle
Like a child must win
There is no place
Like a child has been
There is no music
Like a child can hear
There is no happiness
Like a child's cheer
Most of all,
There is no horror
Like a child's fear
There is no sorrow
Like a child's tear
Copyright © Julie Little | Year Posted 2021
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Julie Little Poem
The shower hides the tears that she cries,
waiting to see if he lives or dies.
She can not be strong anymore.
Things are different than before.
Not one doubtful thought
He is "The One" she caught.
She may have to let go of him.
No visitors, can't show to him
how much he means to her life;
only wants to be his wife.
She needs him to carry her so;
he needs to hear her tell him though.
Face to face, & skin to skin;
will they ever be again?
The tears are starting to fall,
hidden in the shower-fall.
The one place to let it out;
cry, kick, scream or shout.
She needs him to get better and come home.
Never again to leave her all alone.
She knows, but tries her best not to show it;
soon, she herself will succumb to Covid.
Copyright © Julie Little | Year Posted 2020
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Julie Little Poem
Serenity on the river bank
Setting sun reflecting
Mirrored golden lake
Rays and angles effecting
Birds serenading
Bathing ducks splash
Daylight fading
Starry sky in a flash
Copyright © Julie Little | Year Posted 2021
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Julie Little Poem
World watches Humanity Fall;
Indifferences felt by All.
Few moments in History can compare;
Shockwaves rippled everywhere.
Each land of a different name;
Every Indifference is the same.
Suffering, Despair;
Proof that Nobody Cares.
Violence, Anger;
Skin Color Danger.
Hatred, Fear;
Hard Truths Faced this Year.
The People United;
No Longer Divided.
Joining Together;
Overcoming 'Stormy Weather.'
Every Father, Every Mother;
Teachers of 'Love Another.'
Every Sister, Every Brother;
Helping One Help The Other.
Companionship, Comfort
Eases The Impact of The Hurt.
Creativity, Hope;
Engineered New Ways to Cope.
Our Daughter, Our Son;
The Healing has Begun.
All the Lands, Across All the Seas;
All the Same in Times of These.
New Life, Old Heart;
Love Found Miles Apart.
Angrily Loving, Civil Unrests;
Violent Peaceful Protests.
New Enemy, Old Friend;
Only One in the End.
Black, White;
Not Wrong, Not Right.
Blind, Sight;
Presently We Write.
Rite, Oversight;
Historic rewrite.
Support, Unite;
Beautiful Highlight.
Fight, Fright;
Dark of Night.
Heroes, Spotlight;
Front Lines of Knight.
Guiding Love, Leading Light;
Hatred Overwrite.
Flames, Ignite;
Ignorance Invite.
Copyright © Julie Little | Year Posted 2021
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