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Glen Schwartz Poem
A drop of paint upon a canvas,
a sketch on a warn tattered pad.
It's been said that Art can be timeless,
I say without it our world would be sad..
A drop of paint upon a canvas,
to draw Gods beauty in your own hand.
To capture a rose in it's full bloom,
having such talent must feel so grand..
A drop of paint upon a canvas,
a reflection of the artist eye.
To convey all the granger ,
in the dawn of the days new sky..
I stand in envy and in awl ,
and your praises I will sing.
For the gift that you possess,
to the table, I can not bring
So please paint us your impression,
of the life you see so true.
Give us something to live forever,
that is you, and only You..
Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017
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Glen Schwartz Poem
War Is Hell
Our nations war to settle a score and or fight to noble fight..
It's the countrymen who pay the price, no matter who was right..
Now I love my nation under God , My country tis of thee..
My one regret is that my son , was my eternal fee..
Like his dad before he went to war and served this nation well..
I taught my son a lot of things, but not how War Is Hell..
His camp came under fire one night while the boys were all writing home.
That was the first of many nights, our families would dine alone..
The days were long , the nights were longer..
But with time all wounds they fade ..
I could see my boy in my grandsons eyes..
What a treasure my God has made..
I spent most of my time doating upon the lad..
Telling him hero stories of his fearless dad..
Now he's joined the core, to fight a new war,
and or make his father proud..
And every night as I pray for his life,
My cries can be herd aloud..
Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017
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Glen Schwartz Poem
I Do not want a window seat .
I do not want to freeze my feet..
I do not want a waiter cat .
I do not like his pin striped hat..
I do not want him to touch my food.
And how he speaks is down right Rude..
So won't you take my order Jerry.
I know the menu, and I'm in quite the hurry..
Scrapple , egg and cheese on toast,
that is the meal I love the most..
The tall cat can have his green eggs and ham.
He's not from Philly but Sam I Am..
Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017
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Glen Schwartz Poem
A city of neighborhoods,
it's been called in a song.
With row houses like Legos,
my block fifty long..
I grew up poor as dirt,
with not a spec to be found.
It was asphalt and concrete,
which lined all the ground..
Our fathers were heros to us,
they worked hard for their clan.
With calluses covering,
every inch of their hand..
Times they were hard,
for the uneducated trade.
Your choice of tool,
the axe, pic, or the spade..
The funny thing is,
I never knew I was poor.
Never thought I had less,
never needed much more..
No back yards on our block,
just an alley to play.
this was packed with
thirty to forty kids everyday..
Wireball , stickball,
jacks and jumprope.
We'd build ramps for our bikes,
and than jump the slope..
Our baseball field,
was a parking lot.
We'd chalk out the bases,
how I miss the old spot.
I wasn't raised by one Mom,
but every Mom on the block.
all doors were left open,
there was no need to knock.
Sometimes nostalgia grabs me,
and I drive by the old hood.
To see myself as a boy,
most likely up to no good..
Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017
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Glen Schwartz Poem
Every four to eight years ,
they all bark change..
But all I see ,
is the Oval Office chairs rearranged..
Reform seems to be a word,
they speak in their sleep.
And all we are to do,
is follow as sheep..
A campaign of lies,
will win your vote.
now he's elected,
and you are the goat..
For the middle class,
it will be easy street.
A road paved in gold,
for only one percent to reap..
If you really want a voice,
I do have a plan.
Give all the house seats,
to the working man..
A life time job,
this was not meant to be.
Why should rich people know,
what is best for me ..
Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017
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Glen Schwartz Poem
The sun is brightly shining,
no one can see the doom.
Just one look into my eyes,
would give away my gloom..
Outside the children laughing,
as they play as children play.
I find no joy in this,
for I have lost a friend today..
And life goes on as normal,
he wouldn't want it any other way.
The life he lived was modest,
a family man you'd say..
His family they were stoic,
holding hands as he slipped away.
I stand there in the background ,
as I bow my head to pray..
There is no happy ending,
there is nothing you could say.
My life has changed forever,
for I have lost a friend today..
Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017
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Glen Schwartz Poem
The call goes out, the horn it sounds.
Someones fight for life begins uptown.
Most of us hear that horn from the safety of our home,
not giving it a thought as it bellows out it's tone.
But for a certain few, that sound means so much more.
It's someones cry for help and that quick they're out the door..
For their the Volunteers and my respect for them immense,
when their out there fighting fires, no matter how intense..
The screeching of a wheel.
The sound of breaking glass.
Your entombed in your car
and you think that breaths your last.
But a few minuets pass , as the roof it's cut away.
You hear a friendly voice assuring you're OK.
They say our countries values , have gone a bit astray.
I say that isn't true for volunteers are born each day..
So if you hear that horn as you go about your way.
Please take a couple minutes and Volunteer yourself to Pray...
Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017
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Glen Schwartz Poem
When I was a small child, I was plagued with bad dreams...
I said Mom, I'm afraid . She said, you can rest,
there is nothing in this house but Love..
And Then.... She Smiled..
When I was in Sunday School the preacher spoke of Sin , Hell and Damnation..
I was old enough to know, I was a sinner. I said Mom, I don't want to go to Hell..
She said, you have nothing to fear . You Love God and God Loves you..
And Then.... She Kissed me..
It was my wedding day, butterflies filled my stomach, I damn near fainted when my beautiful wife to be walked down the aisle . At the reception I said Mom, I am nervous . She said, if you Love her with all your heart, you will be forever happy..
And Then.... We danced..
Mom was in the hospital with heart trouble . I rushed there wanting to help but knowing I wouldn't be able to. I said, Mom are you OK how do you feel.. She said, I am going to die. Don't you cry for me, I lived a life of Love . I had a great life and Love is all that matters in this world..
And Then.... She Hugged me..
At her funeral , I felt so weak I could hardly stand. My whole body seemed to be trembling . My wife of 30 years took notice. She grabbed both my hands pulling me to her embrace and said, You've been my rock for so long, let me be your rock today. Everything my Mom had taught me ran through my head. How Love makes life Beautiful . I pulled away from my wife to see her tear filled eyes..
And Then.... I Smiled..
Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017
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Glen Schwartz Poem
Autism speaks everyday in my house.
Not always in words, because the words won't come out..
It speaks from the heart, and from the soul.
It's seen in their eyes, as the burden they hold..
It's easy to see all the struggles they'll face.
Wishing that we could just take their place..
Some days are hard, they can't express what is wrong.
Theses are the days I pray to be strong..
I pray every night and some nights I cry,
Oh please Lord have mercy on my little guy..
But our Lord has a purpose in all that he does.
Giving those special children ,
to special parents, who have extra Love..
Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017
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Glen Schwartz Poem
Rain, Rain go away,
this job has lost another day.
April showers have ran into May,
and the men have lost a week of pay.
Dirt and rain become a torrent of mud,
and we can not work in this kind of crud.
We dig the footings, they become a moat.
I'll tell you this rain has really got my goat..
There's mud in my office and mud in my truck.
I hear thunder in the distance more rain, Just my luck...
These May showers have become my bane !
If they don't subside soon, they'll float this job down the drain..
Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017
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