Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
I bought what I wanted,
whether I needed it or not.
Whether I had the money or not.
Oh, credit cards the wonder of our time.
I ended up with material things I could ever want.
But is this the good life?
I worked 12 hour days,
Plus traveling time of 2 hours a day,
I often worked nights and weekends
I had a high paying job.
But is this the good life?
There was no time for family or friends,
On the weekends I caught up on my sleep,
Baking, cooking, cleaning, I had someone else do that.
But is this the good life?
I was stressed out most of the time,
But, we went on holidays,
We had the two cars,
And the cottage and the house.
But is this the good life?
The answer - not for me!
So I set my goals to be:
Less work, less money, but more time
I wouldn't go back, not a dime.
I have time for my family and friends,
And I am no longer rushing to the day's end.
No longer stressed, not as much strife,
This is the good life!
Good Poems
Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
A good life of contentment is
The wealth untold,
The satisfaction from life’s hard fought journey
In its purest gold.
Focusing on what we have,
What makes us feel that we are blessed,
Living a life of little wanting
And being careful not to be unduly obsessed.
Discarding envy for what others have
Or material things you do not possess;
Take joy in the dreams fulfilled
And smile at the ones that don’t seem to progress.
Aspiring for goals that we set,
But content when life meets unexpected turn;
For it is then, in those moments,
We truly appreciate our life and learn.
Poems About Contentment
by George Macdonald
Better to smell the violet cool than sip the glowing wine;
Better to hark a hidden brook than watch a diamond shine.
Better the love of gentle heart than beauty's favors proud,
Better the rose's living seed than roses in a crowd.
Better to love in loneliness than bask in love all day;
Better the fountain in the heart than the fountain by the way.
Better be fed by a mother's hand than eat alone at will;
Better to trust in God than say, My goods my storehouse fill.
Better to be a little wise than in knowledge to abound;
Better to teach a child than toil to fill perfection's round.
Better sit at a master's feet than thrill a listening state;
Better suspect that thou art proud than be sure that thou art great.
Better to walk in the realm unseen than watch the hour's event;
Better the "well done" at the last than the air with shoutings rent.
Better to have a quiet grief than a hurrying delight;
Better the twilight of the dawn than the noonday burning bright.
Better to sit at the water's birth than a sea of waves to win;
To live in the love that floweth forth than the love that cometh in.
Better a death when work is done than earth's most favored birth;
Better a child in God's great house than the king of all the earth.
Christian Poems
Poet: C. C. Hassler
There ain't no use in kickin' 'bout the weather, for it's comin'
Just the same, an' soon we'll listen to the honey bees a hummin'.
We'll fergit about the freezin' an' the blizzards an' the snow,
When we watch the corn a sproutin' an' the taters as they grow.
There ain't no use complainin' 'bout the price of bread an' meat.
We will have to keep on payin' if we want to live an' eat.
This old world will keep on movin' an' the seasons will come 'round,
After we have all stopped livin' and are underneath the ground.
There ain't no use a sighin' 'bout the good old times of yore.
Tis the present we must tackle, as our fathers did before.
If we lived as they did — maybe — we would kick an' growl because
Things wasn't managed better by the makers of our laws.
There ain't no use a findin' faults with everyone we see.
When so many of them's showin' in the lives of you an' me.
Let us meet the clouds above us with a smilin' face an' know
God will send us fruit and flowers if we give them time to grow.
There ain't no use a growlin' till our faces are awry,
Smiles will make this old world better as the days an' years go by.
Call our present days the best days, scatter seeds of love an' share
Joys and sorrows with our neighbors an' they'll blossom everywhere.
A New Day Poem
Poet: H. Bonar
He liveth long who liveth well;
All else is life but flung away:
He liveth longest who can tell
Of true things truly done each day.
Then fill each hour with what will last;
Buy up the moments as they go:
The life above, when this is past.
Is the ripe fruit of life below.
Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure;
Sow peace, and reap its harvest bright;
Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor,
And find a harvest-home of light.
A Life Well Lived
Poet: Unknown
What is this life if, full of zest
We have no time to sit and rest?
No time to sit in sweet content
And dream of how our time was spent.
No time to dream of future things
Or hear the songs the glee club sings.
But always springing up to find
The kind of book that’s on some mind.
And listen to the silly gaff
That flows to make librarians laugh.
What is this life if, full of zest
We have no time to sit and rest?
