Burt Poole

Burt Poole Poems

Strolling in the rain, singing a sweet refrain,
Just my gal and I alone.
Though it’s far from being fair we- don’t care,
We have sunshine of our very own.
...

Without a sense of humor, you’re
defeated from the start,
For you lack the gift that may
give a lift to your sad and hurting
...

‘Tis quite a day on Erin Isle,
A day when even cynics smile,
And hardly can a man be seen
Who’s dressed without a bit of green.
...

The Regal Palm
Up from the desert, hot and dry
row upon row they stand.
Majestic, sentinels so high,
...

Ten million lights of kindness,
each shining in its place,
Would brighten up our nation
and inspire the human race.
...

The green of Ireland’s shores, like
the constant kiss of spring,
From Derrybeg to Westport and down
to the Kerry Ring.
...

I’ll tell you true, it is no blarney,
From Dublin Town to old Killarney,
The Leprechauns would dance with glee
To learn of what you gave to me.
...

A story sad came from a pond where
lived a thousand frogs.
Then, there were tadpoles by the
score that loitered near the
...

None are quite as strange as those,
who blow out smoke from mouth and nose.
...

How crude the rock that holds the gem,
Unpolished, dull, and dead.
How valueless the stone appears in its
Cold and vault-like bed,
...

I watched a little ant one day.... as on my desk it made its way..... Through letters, pins and paper weights...
It scurried, turned, would hesitate....
...

There has never been a little sphere
to cause more consternation,
Than that simple, dimpled, white round thing
that we use for recreation.
...

It’s a day of celebration, lots of laughter and
some tears,
as we think of godly Patrick and his mark upon
the years.
...

Some say it’s just a symbol and deserves no special care

They trample and they burn it; spit upon it on a dare
...

It wasn’t the music, it wasn’t the moon
It wasn’t the garden, with its flowers in bloom.
It wasn’t the stars or the soft breeze that blew,
It was none of these things dear, it was just YOU
...

Tho you’re many miles away,
too far for me to hear you pray,
I hear a voice within me say,
that you’re praying for me.
...

Old Glory fluttered in the breeze,
while birds sang gaily from the trees.
The prayers were prayed and speeches said,
each one made mention of the dead.
...

Yes, only God can make a tree,
but the planting’s left to you and me.
A little sapling, some tiny seeds,
can grow to meet man’s daily needs.
...

19.

There’s a little guy at your house
whose as cute as he can be.
Not that he’s tall and handsome,
he’s no higher than your knee.
...

“Save the whales and save the dolphins,
fringed–toed lizards and the rats,
But destroy the unborn babies; they’re
just senseless, human brats.”
...

Burt Poole Biography

I am posting posthumously for my father who passed away on May 16,2012. He left behind a wealth of poetry that I would like to share. Before he passed, his children printed a booklet of his poetry to share with his friends and family. These are the poems I am putting on this site. These poems were written over the span of his lifetime. Everyone that knew my father had the utmost respect and love for him. Some of the poems were shared from the pulpit, and others had never been seen before by anyone but his family. Burt R. Poole was born in 1923 in Rocky Mount, North Carolina. He served in the United States Navy in World War II. He married Dorothy Hunn in 1946. He graduated from Rockmont College in Colorado and attended seminary in Pennsylvania. He served as a Baptist pastor in churches in Colorado, Delaware and California. He lived in Sun City, Arizona. My father went to Ireland in the 1950's as a missionary and fell in love with the Irish people and their country. He passed away at 89 years of age, survived by my mother and his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. My wish is that his poetry will bless you as you read through his thoughts and musings.)

The Best Poem Of Burt Poole

Strollin' In The Rain

Strolling in the rain, singing a sweet refrain,
Just my gal and I alone.
Though it’s far from being fair we- don’t care,
We have sunshine of our very own.
Each little raindrop falling on the street
Is part of that melody my gal and I repeat.
Yes, we can share our love whether in or out of doors
‘Cause when love rains it really pours.
I can’t think of anything better
Than strolling through the rain
I know there’s nothing wetter
But who cares you get dry when the sun shines again.

(3/7/44 U.SN.M. Portsmouth, VA)

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