Winifred Emma May’s pen name was Patience Strong. She was born in 1907 in UK. She wrote many inspiring poems especially during the period when the war was going on. She emphasized in her poems to develop courage, endurance, persistence, courage and strength. Those who had suffered heartbreak got encouragement and courage from his poetry to start their new life better. Her poetry is mostly motivational. She left the world in 1990 but still the number of admirers of her poetry has not decreased. She will live forever in people’s hearts.
Table of Contents
Listen!
by Patience Strong
“Listen –
that’s a lovely word –
it makes us quiet and still –
There’s so much in the world to hear –
The birds that chirp and trill –
The wild wind fluting in the trees –
The drumming of the rain –
The muffled fluttering of moths against a window pane;
Chopin, Beethoven, Liszt and Grieg –
Giants of music’s art –
Created golden melodies to stir the human heart –
The world is full of lovely sounds –
They fall about our ears –
Remembered in serenity-
They echo down the years –
A voice we loves, a waterfall, a violin, a thrush –
All steal into the quiet heart in Memory’s solemn hush….
So close your eyes and listen,
You will hear all kinds of things –
The secret language of flowers –
The whir of fairies’ wings…
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Broken Romance
by Patience Strong
You told me your story –
A picture in words –
A garden with roses and sweet-singing birds –
And two lovers dreaming the moments away –
Bewitched by the spell of the blue Summer’s day…
A brief hour of magic and Love’s ecstasies-
Now locked in the casket of old memories –
The Summer has ended –
The roses have gone –
The lovers have parted –
Yet Love lingers on –
The songs and the laughter have ended in tears,
As lonely, heart-broken they face the long years…
A sad little story, but who knows, my friend?
Your romance may still have a beautiful end.
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After The Rain
Poet: Patience Strong
Lovely is the garden after summer showers,
When the crystal raindrops tremble on the flowers –
And the grasses glitter with the clinging rain,
As on leaf and petal sunlight falls again.
Everything is sparkling, fresh and bright and clean-
Colours that had faded wear a rich new sheen –
Smell of wet earth mingles with the fragrant fumes,
Drifting from the censers of the dripping blooms.
Sweetly sing the songbirds in the shining bowers,
From the secret turrets of their leafy towers –
Pouring notes of rapture in a glad refrain –
As the garden echoes: Thank you for the rain.
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Roofs
Poet: Patience Strong
I love to climb the hill that lies behind our little town –
And when the sun shines after the rain, it’s lovely to look down –
Upon the coloured roofs below, lit by the sun’s bright ray –
A beautiful mosaic, brown and red and green and grey…
The town looks small and toy-like underneath the sky’s great dome –
And as I gaze, I realize that each roof is a home –
Where people strive and work and play, and children laugh and cry –
And men and women play their parts, and live and love and die…
And yet the town looks so content, so happy and serene,
With all its little shining roofs of red and brown and green –
And as the daylight fades to dusk, I watch as sunsets gleams,
And pray God sends to every home joy – peace – and happy dreams.
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Message of Christmas
Poet: Patience Strong
Welcome Christmas once again!
Come blizzard, snow or rime
It cannot dim the joy that’s fills
Our hearts at this glad time.
The days are brief, the nights are long,
The skies are bleak and drear –
But a glory shines about
The ending of the year.
The glory of a wondrous thing:
The Christmas Mystery.
The strange and lovely story of
Our Lord’s nativity.
The only hope that’s left to Man
Upon this troubled earth –
The hope God gave at Bethlehem
At the Messiah’s birth
Welcome sweet and holy day,
The day of Christ the King.
Once again the world awaits
The message that you bring.
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The Tides of Providence
Poet: Patience Strong
It’s not what you gather, but what you sow,
That gives the heart a warming glow.
It’s not what you get, but what you give,
Decides the kind of life you live.
It’s not what you have, but what you spare.
It’s not what you take, but what you share
That pays the greater dividend
And makes you richer in the end.
It’s not what you spend upon yourself
Or hide away upon a shelf,
That brings a blessing for the day.
It’s what you scatter by the way.
A wasted effort it may seem.
But what you cast upon the stream
Comes back to you recompense
Upon the tides of providence.
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Anticipation
Poet: Patience Strong
The very best part of a party, I think
Is the house before guests come along –
And you sit very still, just composing your thoughts
(if you don’t things are bound to go wrong) …
When the table is laid and the places are set,
And the fire is ablaze in the grate,
When the flowers are arranged and the lamp is switched on
And there’s nothing to do but just wait…
And at last when the bell rings and people crowd in,
Bringing gaiety, laughter and fun –
Then you feel that you’ve lived through it all in your thoughts –
As you hasten to welcome each one…
I enjoy every moment I spend with my guests
Till the good-byes are said in the hall –
But the quiet hour of anticipation, for me,
Is the very best part of it all.
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Cradles
Poet: Patience Strong
I love to look at cradles, for they seem to symbolize –
The whole of human tenderness – their pretty frills and ties –
Are emblems of the love that spreads its kind protective wings –
Around the helpless and the weak, and small defenseless things…
And we are all defenseless from the moment of our birth –
Frail, tiny figures strutting on our little spinning earth –
Our world is whirling in the void – we face Eternity –
We cannot probe the secrets of our hidden Destiny…
And yet, we, too, are cradled, safe within His tender care –
The love too deep for man to know is always waiting there –
Creating and controlling – suns and stars and worlds above –
And we are safe within the cradle of that perfect Love…
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Wonderland
Poet: Patience Strong
Blessed are the happy folks who understand the trees –
And hear the whispered messages that float along the breeze –
For they are never lonely though they may be all alone –
They have their secret Wonderland – treasures of their own…
They know the language of the flowers, and hear the symphony –
Of rain and wind and rustling leaves and sweet bird-melody…
And happy ghosts troop in and out the quiet of their room-
With hints of lovely things to come – dispelling fear and gloom …
Familiar voices echo from the mists of Memory –
They live in friendly intercourse with that great company,
That moves around us all the time – protective – yet unseen,
With blessings for the heart that is receptive and serene.
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Winter Sunset
Poet: Patience Strong
The winter sunset flames about a world of smoky grey –
The wild red glory of the clouds lights up the day day
The sky is slashed with whips of fire – the bright sun dips to rest –
And fans of gold and orange flames strike upward from the West…
The heedless crowds go crawling by along the ugly street –
Intent upon their little lives – what they shall wear and eat…
How strange they do not stand and gaze with hungry, staring eyes –
And read the blazing message of God’s writing in the skies.
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Seaside Reverie
Poet: Patience Strong
I shall remember this beautiful scene –
When I’m caught one again on the wheel of routine…
I shall pause as I go on my dull humdrum way,
to recapture this hour of my brief holiday.
And against the drab background of commonplace things
I’ll conjure the picture of white wheeling wings –
Swift gulls gliding low through the shimmering haze –
The bright crowded beach and the sun’s golden blaze –
The stain of red sails on the blue of the sea –
The gleam of tanned figures, like bronze statuary…
A vivid scene flashed on a canvas of grey –
To light up the murk of some winter’s day.
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Little Things
Poet: Patience Strong
We sometimes get impatient doing simple little things,
Like stitching, buttons, washing gloves – the trifling task life brings –
We think we’re wasting precious time and grumble terribly –
Because we think we’re fitted for a higher destiny . . .
But God did not despise the doing of the tiny things –
He must have spent a lot of time on making flowers and wings –
He made the mountains and the seas, the whirling worlds on high –
And yet He deigned to make the ant, the bee, the butterfly –
The spider and the snowflake and the smallest bird that sings –
So surely we with grace and care can do – the little things.
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Cinderella
by Patience Strong
The little maid-of-all-work sits beside the firelight glow –
The teardrops glisten in her eyes, for oh, she longs to go,
Dressed in a gown of satin, to the splendours of the Ball –
Poor Cinderella, dreaming in her little ragged shawl…
And suddenly, from nowhere, Fairy Godmother appears –
“Come, come,” she says, “You’ll have your wish, so dry your foolish tears.”
The wish is granted, there she stands, a vision of delight –
Wrapped in a cloak of gold and hung with jewels rare and bright…
The pumpkin is a shining coach beneath the magic spells –
And milk-white ponies all a-jingle with their silver bells…
But that’s an old, old story – Tell us something new, you say –
But don’t you see these characters are with us still today…
The world is full of Cinderellas, crying for a star –
A-wishing for a golden coach (a fine, grand motor-car) –
Dancing with Prince Charming in a cheap and shabby dress –
In dreams each Cinderella is a beautiful Princess!
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Bulbs
by Patience Strong
I’ve put my bulbs in coloured bowls and hidden them away –
Inside my cupboard, where they cannot see the light of day –
I’ve put them in the soft black mould as cosy as can be –
And in the quiet darkness they will work their mystery . . .
And when all things lie lifeless locked in winter’s frozen sleep –
Inside my cupboard one sweet day a pale green tip will peep.
I’ll bring them out into the light and set them in my room –
And silently and secretly they’ll grow and bud and bloom –
The grey old house will waken from its drowsy slumbering,
To find the rooms ablaze with flowers, as if it were the Spring! . . .
With daffodils and hyacinths, narcissi, tulips too –
A flaring mass of loveliness in gold and pink and blue –
And I shall smile, remembering my small part in the show –
For though we plant and tend the bulbs –
it’s God that makes them grow.
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The Gift
by Patience Strong
It’s not the price that sets the value on the gift we send –
It’s how much love goes with it –
That’s what matters in the end –
The spirit of the giving, the affection that we feel –
The selfless thought behind the act that makes it good and real…
A little simple thing can bring great happiness to you –
If given in sincerity with wishes kind and true ….
The gift we give without our love is worthless, dead, and cold –
While gifts we give from out the heart are worth their weight in gold.
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Comfort
Poet: Patience Strong
When the soul is plunged into the depths of dark despair –
When the heart is heavy with its load of human care –
When it seems that we shall never see the light again –
Blinded by our sorrows, by the tear-drops and the pain …
That’s the time when unseen hands reach down to take our own –
Loved ones press around us, though we think we stand alone –
Angel wings enfold us safe from every hurt and harm –
Something seems to come to us and make us strong and calm…
Comfort steals upon the heart, we know not how or why –
Suddenly the light comes flooding o’er the darkened sky –
“God shall wipe away all tears” –
His promise shall remain –
And strengthened, healed and comforted –
We face the world again.
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Sleep
Poet: Patience Strong
Sleep is a soft and gentle hand that charms away all strife –
And draws us with a magic touch from out the grasp of Life –
It throws into our tired eyes the golden dust of dreams –
And we forget our failures and our little futile schemes…
If you’ve a grievance in your heart, don’t rail and storm and weep –
Just put a finger on the lips and then lie down and sleep –
And in the morning when you wake, you’ll take a different view –
For God gives you another day in which to start anew.
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Crumbs
Poet: Patience Strong
When the grass is stiff with frost, and Winter really comes –
don’t forget the birds –
for they can do with all the crumbs –
You’ll see them waiting patiently, lined up along the fence –
While you enjoy your breakfast they are waiting in suspense ….
And all those crusts that always get left over in the bin –
Don’t let them get all stale and hard, it really is a sin –
Just soak them –
and then throw them out –
they’ll love them –
mark my words –
Our crumbs and scraps and pieces make a banquet for the birds!
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Bedside Books
Poet: Patience Strong
My house is full of well-loved books –
They’re scattered round the place –
In unexpected corners –
On the shelves and in the case.
But on the table by my bed, I keep a little row –
Of precious books –
My favorite ones –
And when I’m tired I go –
And find some passage that inspires with words like angel wings –
That lift me up above the swirl of petty human things…
A truth from some great poet’s pen –
A lovely, lilting phrase –
A message that will spur me on,
And light the darkest days.
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Shadows
by Patience Strong
The candlelight flings funny shapeless shadows on the wall
And when I put the candle out the queer moon-shadows fall
The sun casts shadows on the lawn when there are trees around
Like stripes of blackness painted on the green and shining ground…
And in the country when a could obscure the blazing sun
Across the golden fields of corn the dancing shadows run
And so it seems in daily life the shadows come and go
We cannot have the light without the shadow – this we know
And so when cares depress you and you cannot see a gleam
Remember shadows are not quite as dark as they may seem.
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Beauty Hint
by Patience Strong
We keep our shoes all spick and span (it’s nice to see smart feet) –
We always see that clothes are brushed –
We must look trim and neat!
We wash our gloves religiously (that’s if they’re cream or white) –
There mustn’t be a spot on them if we should look just right…
We have our shampoo once a week and keep the waves in place –
We buy the latest creams and perfumed powder for the face –
We do our exercises just to keep ourselves in trim,
And cut out the cakes and chocolates in the hope of getting slim! –
We spend our time and money keeping up that certain style –
But none of it is any use,
Unless we wear a smile!
It’s more important than the most expensive sort of hat –
And strange to say it doesn’t cost a bean –
Imagine that!
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