Browse all 2,726 songs
By Original Work
Wildflowers grow in field and meadow,
Where nobody tends or sows,
They find their way through rock and soil,
Against all common shows.
Purple, yellow, white, and blue,
A painter's palette free,
The wilding bloom cares nothing for,
What humans think to be.
I'd rather be a wildflower bold,
Than garden rose refined,
Growing free where winds do blow,
In body, spirit, mind.
By Original Work
Summer sun begins to fade,
The days grow short and cool,
The vacation memories made,
Live on within our school.
The beach days done, the campfire's out,
The sandcastle's washed away,
But golden tan and laughter loud,
Will stay through winter's gray.
We'll hold the sunshine in our hearts,
Till summer comes again,
When warm winds blow and life restarts,
We'll welcome joy and pain.
By Original Work
Morning coffee steams so sweet,
The first sip wakes me up,
The newspaper lies flat and neat,
A morning ritual cup.
The radio plays soft and low,
The birds begin to sing,
The sun creeps in through window glow,
A brand new day to bring.
These simple pleasures make me whole,
Contented, calm, and clear,
A cup of coffee warms my soul,
And guides my day with cheer.
By Original Work
Your letter came from overseas,
With stamps and postmarks new,
The words you wrote so long ago,
Still ring so tried and true.
You asked about my health and work,
And how the garden grew,
The children tall, the oldest's smart,
Just like you said they'd do.
Though miles divide us, still your words,
Bridge oceans but by sea,
A lifeline stretched across the world,
From someone dear to me.
By Original Work
Grandfather's clock stands tall and proud,
Its pendulum swings wide,
Each tick and tock marks time's own road,
Where secret hopes reside.
It watched us grow from children small,
To adults with our own,
It marked our triumphs, failures, all,
Through every season's tone.
The clock may have wound down now,
Its brass has turned to green,
But time stands still in memory,
Where love still lingers clean.
By Original Work
We carry dreams from youth to age,
In pockets deep and wide,
Some dreams have faded with the years,
While others still our guide.
The child who dreamed of flying high,
Now finds a different sky,
The girl who dreamed of dancing far,
Now spins in place nearby.
But dreams don't die, they just evolve,
To fit our present true,
A dream of happiness and love,
Is always born anew.
Storm clouds gather overhead,
The thunder rolls so near,
I weather every tempest strong,
Through all I hold most dear.
The lightning strikes, the rain descends,
Yet shelter I have found,
For those who love stand by my side,
On this their consecrated ground.
We gather at the gates of stone,
Where loved ones rest so deep,
The marble angels watch us weep,
And flowers eternally sleep.
The names are worn by time's own hand,
Yet memory clings on strong,
We come to honor those who've passed,
To keep their love where it belongs.
Down the country road I ride,
My horse beneath the moon,
The crickets chirp their evening song,
A gentle summer tune.
The fences line both sides of road,
Where fireflies dance and play,
I'm heading home to those I love,
At end of every day.
She turned sweet sixteen today,
A lady fair and fine,
The boy next door brought flowers round,
And asked if she were kind.
They danced beneath the paper lanterns,
Twirling round the floor,
Two young hearts learning love's first steps,
As they've done before.
The house feels bare since you've flown,
Where laughter once did ring,
The rooms echo with memories,
Of when you spread your wing.
But pride replaces sorrow deep,
For those who learned to soar,
You found your sky beyond our walls,
And that's what love is for.
The harvest moon hangs big and bright,
On fields of golden grain,
The farmers work through moonlit nights,
To bring in winter's gain.
The combines hum from dusk to dawn,
The silos fill up tall,
Another year of plenty's come,
To feed both great and small.
My old dog lies beside the porch,
His bones grow stiff and weak,
He chases squirrels in his dreams,
Though legs no longer seek.
The puppy days have passed him by,
But love remains so true,
A faithful friend through many years,
Still loyal through and through.
The train whistle moans through the night,
A lonely sound so clear,
It's carrying the wanderers,
To destinations near.
The railroad tracks stretch far and wide,
From town to town they go,
The iron horse that roars so loud,
Brings travelers to and fro.
Old cobblestone streets lead to the square,
Where market vendors call,
The smell of bread and flowers sweet,
Fills both great hall and small.
The fountain's spray catches the light,
As children run and play,
This village square has stood for years,
Where life goes on today.
Dear tomorrow, I'm writing you,
To ask what's in your plan,
Will sunshine follow rain today,
Or will I finally understand?
I fold this letter carefully,
And seal it with my hope,
The future holds a special place,
Where dreams learn how to grope.
The rain beats down on window pane,
The world has turned to gray,
I've got those rainy day blues,
That never seem to go away.
But coffee steams beside my book,
A blanket soft and warm,
Sometimes the rainy days are best,
To shelter from the storm.
Ring out the bells for New Year's Eve,
Let joy fill every heart,
We say goodbye to year gone by,
And welcome a new start.
The champagne bubbles sparkle bright,
The ball descends so slow,
A thousand voices cheer as one,
As out the old does go.
The butterflies drift through the garden,
On wings of orange bright,
They flutter past the rosebushes,
In their graceful, lazy flight.
The children chase but never catch,
These treasures of the air,
A living rainbow flits about,
With beauty beyond compare.