Be inspired by these famous Patience Strong poems. Patience Strong was a pen name for Winifred Emma May. She was born on June 4, 1907, in the United Kingdom and inspired many by her short but inspiring poems. She published many books over the years during wartime that helped
encouraged and offered messages of hope and courage. Her poems are like good friends, refreshing and offering a positive perspective on the issues facing us all as we journey through life. Her poems are often referred to as "poems to keep and
read often - constant comforters, to be consulted again and again..."
If you are feeling discouraged or sad or perplexed read some of her poetry and be uplifted. Great poems to share with others who need a positive message!
Over the course of her life she had her poems published in books, and she also contributed to the Daily Mirror and different magazines. She passed away on August 28, 1990 however her poems still live on today by motivating and inspiring people,
While she has written many poems we have picked some of the best ones to share
with you. We hope these poems by Patience Strong are ones that will inspire you and give you food for thought. Her style is one that is easy to read and the poems are full of meaning and wisdom.
Lovely is the garden after summer showers,
When the crystal raindrops tremble on the flowers -
And the grasses glitter with the clinging rain,
As on leaf and petal sunlight falls again.
Everything is sparkling, fresh and bright and clean-
Colours that had faded wear a rich new sheen -
Smell of wet earth mingles with the fragrant fumes,
Drifting from the censers of the dripping blooms.
Sweetly sing the songbirds in the shining bowers,
From the secret turrets of their leafy towers -
Pouring notes of rapture in a glad refrain -
As the garden echoes: Thank you for the rain.
I love to climb the hill that lies behind our little town -
And when the sun shines after the rain, it's lovely to look down -
Upon the coloured roofs below, lit by the sun's bright ray -
A beautiful mosaic, brown and red and green and grey...
The town looks small and toy-like underneath the sky's great dome -
And as I gaze, I realize that each roof is a home -
Where people strive and work and play, and children laugh and cry -
And men and women play their parts, and live and love and die...
And yet the town looks so content, so happy and serene,
With all its little shining roofs of red and brown and green -
And as the daylight fades to dusk, I watch as sunsets gleams,
And pray God sends to every home joy - peace - and happy dreams.
I love to look at cradles, for they seem to symbolize -
The whole of human tenderness - their pretty frills and ties -
Are emblems of the love that spreads its kind protective wings -
Around the helpless and the weak, and small defenseless things...
And we are all defenseless from the moment of our birth -
Frail, tiny figures strutting on our little spinning earth -
Our world is whirling in the void - we face Eternity -
We cannot probe the secrets of our hidden Destiny...
And yet, we, too, are cradled, safe within His tender care -
The love too deep for man to know is always waiting there -
Creating and controlling - suns and stars and worlds above -
And we are safe within the cradle of that perfect Love...
Blessed are the happy folks who understand the trees -
And hear the whispered messages that float along the breeze -
For they are never lonely though they may be all alone -
They have their secret Wonderland - treasures of their own...
They know the language of the flowers, and hear the symphony -
Of rain and wind and rustling leaves and sweet bird-melody...
And happy ghosts troop in and out the quiet of their room-
With hints of lovely things to come - dispelling fear and gloom ...
Familiar voices echo from the mists of Memory -
They live in friendly intercourse with that great company,
That moves around us all the time - protective - yet unseen,
With blessings for the heart that is receptive and serene.
The winter sunset flames about a world of smoky grey -
The wild red glory of the clouds lights up the day day
The sky is slashed with whips of fire - the bright sun dips to rest -
And fans of gold and orange flames strike upward from the West...
The heedless crowds go crawling by along the ugly street -
Intent upon their little lives - what they shall wear and eat...
How strange they do not stand and gaze with hungry, staring eyes -
And read the blazing message of God's writing in the skies.
I shall remember this beautiful scene -
When I'm caught one again on the wheel of routine...
I shall pause as I go on my dull humdrum way,
to recapture this hour of my brief holiday.
And against the drab background of commonplace things
I'll conjure the picture of white wheeling wings -
Swift gulls gliding low through the shimmering haze -
The bright crowded beach and the sun's golden blaze -
The stain of red sails on the blue of the sea -
The gleam of tanned figures, like bronze statuary...
A vivid scene flashed on a canvas of grey -
To light up the murk of some winter's day.