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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Abundance (06/08/06)

By Anishka Deveaux


Every aspect of our lives begins from something small. Our birth was the precursor for adulthood. Every penny we saved generated a higher return for the investments that were made throughout life. Every tear and fear that was felt was the catalyst for our ability to be courageous and insurmountable by those things that tried to hinder our lifeís growth. Itís those tiny things that allow us to appreciate when we have more than we ever anticipated. Whether rich or poor, we live a life of abundance when we are able to reminisce and are receptive of the things in our past that made us who and what we are today.

A shanty home,
In the ghetto,
Familiar faces,
I no longer see,
These are apart of the memories
That made me me

Jam and bread,
Corn beef and grits
A meal
That was eaten with so much zest

Shoeless feet
That ran races in the street
The freedom to laugh and play
Night and day,
With family and friends that
Meant more than words could say.

These were the little things that
Made me appreciate the bigger things in life

Just another name for poor
Made striving for excellence such a tedious chore
A fatherless home, with mother away,
Work she did for there were many bills to pay

Back in the day, words flew in the air,
There were so many critics with their opinions to share.
Never will you rise from the slums of this city,
Or will the world see your true beauty.

As a child I did not understand,
That the words of man could do so much harm
A motherís love entwined with motherís wit,
Made my little heart full,
When she said, on my child this world would not sit.

Yesteryear, I walked as a child,
Now I speak with the lips of a woman
That barefoot child I still could see,
Because that child I remember was and is me

Today, my life I can speak about,
For I rose to the occasion,
And now I can shout
Sticks and stones,
Though hurled at me,
Could not break the arms that circled me

A motherís love
And my Father in heaven,
Took from lips bread that was unleavened

My life the critics tried to take away,
They hoped it was the slums that I would stay,
Stagnant and lusterless were the words they spoke,
But today itís on their words that they choke

I brag not of the life I live,
Because there are many purposes I am yet to fulfill
Poor I am, but I have much more
For love stirs my heart from the core.

With humble beginnings, that inspired life,
Itís the little things that took away my strife.

See in me the child that may have been in you,
Think of this situation and ask yourself, what would I do?
Live or die,
Cry or dry those weeping eyes
Ask or take from the world that is your very own
Or walk with heads hung down,
Because from this world you may have been disowned

It is that little thing called hope that make us strong,
It is that little note that allows us to sing our song,
It is our faith that keeps us dreaming
And it is on this one Man that most of us are leaning.

Like a seed, I once was,
In good soil I was planted
And that is how my life was started
Today, as an orchard I stand
Bearing fruits of wisdom
For all to understand

Rich I am in life and love,
In my life I have my Father above
A promise was made
That I would have life
A life that many thought I would never see
But now I have life and I live it more abundantly.

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Member Comments
Member Date
Marilyn Schnepp 06/17/06
Some great poetic phrases here..."Mother's love entwined with mother's wit....when she said, on my child this world would not sit"; also, "Sticks and stones, though hurled at me, could not break the arms that encircled me". Beautiful poetic prose - but the downside is (in my opinion) too long and too repetitious. But a really nice job!
Marita Vandertogt06/18/06
This reads very much like lyrics that could be set to music.. especially the first half. I think it could be very powerful as a song. Good work!
Lisa Vest06/18/06
Good imagery/wording. I agree that it could be tightened/shortened up a little.
But overall a great job.
dub W06/19/06
I agree, a lot of melody here, possible part spoken, and part sung. The figurative language and phrasing in the poem created unforgetable images. Thanks for posting.