Poems by Alora M. Knight

What does it take to be a volunteer?
Must you travel afar, or is there someplace near
Where there is a need that is evident--
Where someone would think you were heaven sent

For giving them just a little of your time?
A cheerful smile does not cost a dime.
Or maybe, they need a ride somewhere
But there's no one to call on that seems to care.

Some people find it a difficult task
Being handicapped and having to ask
For help in doing the simplest things.
You can't imagine the joy that it brings

To know someone understands what they need--
A trip to the store or a new book to read.
Someone who doesn't make them feel useless and old.
Love and respect  are more precious than gold.

Now I know that this sounds like the same old story.
Still, I'd like you to take a good inventory
Of the things that you could easily do,
For someday the one who needs help may be you.

At a time of sorrow, it is hard to believe
That the sun will once again shine.
That's when it seems you do nothing but grieve,
With all joy being left far behind.

Still, life has a way of starting anew,
A gradual moving away
From heartaches that linger, as heartaches will do,
If you will allow them to stay.

As spring returns to the Earth every year,
Bringing all of its beauty in view,
So merciful time will heal everything,
Bringing peace of mind back to you.

Know in your heart that love never dies,
No matter whatever befalls.
The only ones who never have tears in their eyes
Are those who loved no one at all.

The greater the love, the greater the loss.
Still, it's love that makes life worth living.
Few are the ones who will not bear the cost
To have shared in the joy of its giving.

A gardener, if he's very wise,
When it is planting season,
Will always use the best of seeds.
It only stands to reason.

Because he knows when harvest comes
He'll reap what he has sown.
If he's been careful, he'll be proud
Of all that he has grown.

It makes me realize that words
Are very much like seeds.
People use all kinds of them
That seem to fit their needs.

But, unlike seeds, the words we speak
Don't stay down in the ground.
More likely in a fertile mind
Is where they will be abound.

Where they are nourished by the thoughts
Of those who seek to find
A way they can express themselves.
The way of all mankind.

Especially fertile is the mind
Of every little one,
So we should be so careful
Before much harm is done.

A child will mimic what he hears
And not give it a thought.
He doesn't even realize
Just what he has been taught.

Still, when he's grown, his attitude,
And what he will believe
Will come from words that he has heard
And what his mind received.

If he's been fed on ugly words,
He'll grow up full of hate
For those he thinks are different.
A most unhappy state.

Because that hatred then will spread.
It can go on forever,
With nations hating nations.
Peace, a lost endeavor.

So take care when you are speaking.
Plant words that when they grow,
Will bring forth love and wisdom.
You'll be glad you made it so.

Outside my window flowers bloom
In a rampant disarray.
They pay no heed to color schemes
In their wonderful display.

I thought I heard a pansy say
In a low voice to a lily,
"I simply do not understand
Why human beings are so silly.

They will argue about color,
They will argue about size,
They even seem to disagree
About the shape of someone's eyes.

Though we're crowded in together,
There never seems to be
Any sign of agitation,
No disrespect that I can see."

An ageratum said,"You know,
Though I am low down on the ground,
I never feel that I am less
Than the tallest flowers around.

It is too bad that people
Cannot seem to realize
They should listen to their hearts,
Not just depend on ears and eyes.

It would help them understand
How much joy there then could be.
Accepting everyone as equals
Would give their lives sweet harmony."