The Crystal Lady

The Poet's Corner

Poems About  Life and Living

Life Is A Uphill Race.
By Joan Estelle High
©  Oct 2000 

I would gladly enter into the race, but I am not sure of the rules.
Let somebody else set the pace,  I'll follow behind with the fools.

I would be glad to swim the lake, try to get to the far  distant shore.
They keep tying rocks to my legs, and then adding a few rocks more.

I would gladly climb that tall hill, Lord, if that is the way you say.
But there is three more after it Lord, there has got to be a better way.

I can see the valley over there, it looks both snug and warm.
Why can't I go an easier way. just what would be the harm?

I can not seem to find an easy path, one that would more smoother be.
Why is it so wrong to want a way, that has both peace and harmony.


Life Is Like A Loaf of Bread.

By Joan Estelle High

©November 2003


I guess I will never leave a mark, Upon the pages of history and time.

My life was purchased for a penny. While others asked and got a dime.

I was born this time as a little girl, With straight hair and big green eyes.

Who liked to sing, dance and twirl, And often talked  to angels in the skies.

I knew the whole world awaited me, These dreams I attained from a book.

I longed to sail the vast endless seas, And walk the path my adventure took.


But my destiny another way did unfold. Maybe it was pre-ordained by fate.

Maybe I lacked courage for such a life.     So I took a tamer way and was a wife.


So now after all is said and done, Perhaps  my life was like a loaf of bread.

I'd never settle again for just one slice. I'd want the whole darn loaf instead.

Life Is Not Fair
by Joan Estelle High

I learned very early that Life is not fair, so I got over it.
All men are not created equal no matter what they say.
It wonít do you any good if you stew and have a fit.
Differences in our lives are as different as night and day.

For some are born to live in a thatch cottage on the Thames.
While the next poor pilgrim lives in a mud hut in the Congo.
Then there are those folks that listen to concerts in the Park,
Compared to the natives that make rhythms on their Bongo.

All women arenít born equal , some born with blond hair,
Whose good looks will bring them fortune and even fame.
While other women are built more like a sturdy Mack truck.
Will be lucky if they ever even have a dollar to their name.

The point is that we are as different as the snow flakes,
Although the flakes are similar no two are exactly the same.
Mother Nature likes variety it is called  the spice of life
Flowers come in rainbow colors more than we could name.

So I figured out that God takes in consideration all these variation.
And he gives out extra points for hardness of the lot in life we draw.
He throws in a pinch of mercy because after all we are his creation.
He polishes each and every one of us until we no longer have a flaw.

A diamond before it is cut and polished looks like a ordinary stone.
You would have to see itís hidden potential with discerning eyes.
The trick is to cut and polish up itís facets until itís beauty shown.
God the Master Craftsman , knows just where that your beauty lies.

So life is not fair my friend, you might just as well get used to it.
Life is a crap shoot at best , your trip down here a game of chance.
All one can do is hope and pray that when it is time this life to quit.
That on our trip back home we will have our time to sing and dance.

Life Is Just Too Short
By Joan Estelle High
©December 2004

Life is just too short to take seriously my friend.
If all we are allotted is only three score and ten.
We can but blink our eyes and barely turn around.
Then it is over and we are planted six foot down.
Alas, our time on this Earth seems way to short.
A journey just begins and they they shout" Abort".

 Now Adam really had it made, he was set up for life.
Then he screwed things up when he listened to his wife.
Eve did not  have a clue to the trouble she would make.
All she ever  did was to take a red apple from a snake.
Now the Lord got mad, He was chapped they say.
It was not only  the mess, the banana peels and such.
But then they started lying ,well that was just too much.

The Lord took them by the hand, led them  to the door.
Told Adam  " Hit the road Jack and don't come back no more."
Old Adam on his best day, was not the smartest man in sight.
But at least the Lord God gave him 938 years to get it right.
Down through many generation men have come and gone.
Some have lived over 800 years,  just where did we go wrong.

Now you take the tale of Noah, wasn't he quite the man.
He lived 950 years, my  is not that  a most proper life span.
Noah was only 500 years when he begin to build  his  boat.
 He waited for the rain to come just to see if it would float.
He gathered up his family took them on a nice long ride.
Then he packed the ship with critters and floated on the tide.

Now a cruise like that ain't cheap, so it is kind of funny,
That the Bible never tells just where he got the money.
In 500 years of living you can squirrel a buck away.
Noah gives new meaning to " Saving for a Rainy Day".

Many Paths In Life
by Joan Estelle High
© Dec. 2003

I have wandered so many paths in this life.
I may have to wander other paths again.
I went over some roads that were hard.
They were also sometimes filled with pain.

Spent some time in valleys, green and low.
Then it was up to the mountain's top again.
Had a few trips down lover's lane, I know.
I'm no stranger to either sunshine or the rain.

I've walked though dark and stormy nights.
Have sailed out across some wind tossed seas.
Once braved the cold to see the Northern Lights.
Soon left to be kissed by the summer's breeze.

I do not think that I have ever lived a life of ease.
Know sometimes I was even too poor to die.
A pauper's grave often brought sweet release.
Mine was not to reason why but to do or die.

I once followed the one they called the Christ.
Through the winding streets of old Jerusalem..
I followed Him for a long , long way that day.
Until I could touch His garments, bottom hem.

I know I am writing this chapter day by day.
I am trying to live this lifetime in such a way.
that when this final chapters has been read.
I'll sorrow not for how I lived or what I said.

May the Lord God's holy light always shine.
So no matter if I should take the wrong way.
I'll see a beacon in the star above that shine.
And I will find my pathway back home to stay.
Then I shall go to where the Angel sings.
And maybe this time I will get my wings.

The Ballad Of The Wheel
by Joan Estelle High
© Jan 2003

 I don't want to go around again, I want off the "wheel of life".
I am tired of this sinful world with it's worry and it's strife.
When I leave this earthly plane and exit to the "Promise Land".
I hope it's there that I remain and not have to go around again.
No I don't want to go around again, around and around again.

I'll be a pillar in the house of God, there I will make my home.
With a robe of white and a golden crown. I never more will roam.
He will wipe the tears from off my face and take me by the hand.
I will never hunger and never thirst there in the "Promise Land".
I hope it's there that I remain and not have to go around again.
No I don't want to go around again, around and around again.

I will rest my weary spirit and  I will stroll the heavenly shore.
I will bathe my self in the light of God and not go forth no more.
I'll sit my self at the feet of the King, sing praises to His name.
I know that is where I belong and He's the reason that I came.
I hope it's there that I remain and not have to go around again.
No I don't want to go around again, around and around again.

If one day I hear my name, called by the Master's voice so dear,
Asking if I would go back down again, would I be a volunteer.
I then will have to say "Dear God, I hope you understand,
I would rather stay here with You, right in the "Promise Land".
I hope it's there that I remain and not have to go around again.
No I don't want to go around again, around and around again.

Song Playing is "Immortality"

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