Here are some excerpts from the A Lifetime of Words Poetic Series. All work on this page is secured through Copyright and Infringement laws.
No part of this poetry can be copied, used without the express written permission from Robin Gorley and her publishers.
One Chance
I smile at you it’s not returned
A certain feeling I can discern
My heart beats slower
My smile fades as I wait for the end
Then as your smile breaks through the frown
My heart skips a beat again
I take a step close to you and put my hands
When I am
Old, Will You Love Me?
I would ask you, my dearest,
A question soft and low,
That gives me many wonders
As the moments come and go
Your love I know is truthful,
But the truest love grows cold;
It is this that I would ask you
Will you love me when I’m old?
Life’s morn will soon be calling,
And its evening b ells be toiled,
But my heart shall know no sadness,
If you’ll love me when I’m old
Down the stream of life together
We are sailing side by side,
Hoping some bright day will anchor our love
Safe beyond the surging ti9de
Today our sky is cloudless,
But the night may unfold them;
But, though storms may gather round us,
Will you love me when I’m old?
When my hair shall shade the snowdrift,
And mine eyes shall dim low
I would lean upon some love done,
Through the valley as I go
I could claim of you a promise,
Worth more to me than a world of gold;
It is only this, my darling,
That you’ll love me when I am old.
Dance
with Me
Dance with me in love
Dance with me in life
When did enduring love begin?
The day we became man and wife
There is patience and understanding
We try to be unselfish and kind
Though not a fairy-tale romance
No greater love will we find
Sharing dreams, passions, and desires
Building each other up when we fall
We've learned to say I'm sorry
And I love you through it all
Our two hearts beat as one
Cherishing what we have from above
Dance with me forever
Dance me to the end of love
The Angel that Stole my Heart
To lay a kiss on your lips,
so gentle and delicate
is like picking the drops of dew
off the petals of a rose.
I hold you close and feel safe,
sheltered in from the rain,
from the storms that grow and surround me.
I take your hand and look into your eyes
and see a heart made of gold and soul so pure.
You see you are an angel, an angel to me.
I could not help but fall madly in love with you,
the one who stole my heart.
I’m glad you did
because I could never find one such as you...
Some one who makes each day the best,
each laugh the longest,
each tear the saddest,
and a life, my life, worthwhile.
It is apparent
That drooping drawers
Is no longer just a fad
They are here to stay
Drooping drawers
No longer a fad
Who planned this?
Mothers, fathers, frustrated
‘cause they can’t get
The kid to keep them up
The drooping drawers’ syndrome
Can we make them a thing of the past?
In my arms you’re mine
Your love and devotion are sure things
That you need me is obvious…
But oh, I need you
The warm and soft
The flesh that gives
Downy head
Fluttery eyes
Delicate fingers.
Your work is to discover your world
And then with all
your heart give yourself to it.
Bitter are the tears of a child: sweeten them
Deep are the thoughts of a child: quiet them
Sharp is the grief of a child: take it from him
Soft is the heart of a child: do not harden it.
A young child is, indeed, a true scientist, just one big question mark. What? Why?
How? I never cease to marvel at the recurring miracle of growth, to be fascinated by the mystery and wonder of this brave enthusiasm.
To value his own good opinion, a child has to feel that he is worthwhile person. He has to have confidence in himself as an individual.
Too often we give our children answers to remember rather than problems to solve
Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person’s character lies in their own hands.
Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person’s character lies in their own hands.
A characteristic of the normal child is he doesn’t act that way very often.
Children seldom misquote. In fact, they usually repeat word for word what you shouldn’t have said.
A mother’s children are portraits of herself.
Over the hill
On the horizon
I cannot see
That golden glow
Time has gone by
A week or two
Over the hill
On the horizon
I see what
Seems to be
The golden glow
Several weeks have passed
Over the hill
On the horizon
Yes, it is…
the Golden Glow
That I’ve been searching for.
Be sure of the foundation of your life
Know why you live as you do
Be ready to give a reason
Do not, in such a matter as life,
Build it upon opinion, or custom
What you guess is true
Make it a matter of certainty.
What was I thinking
Before I was thinking?
When you find out,
Tell me, won’t you please?