Robert Bartlett Poems

When the road ahead
Seems dark and dreary,
That's when our faith kicks in.
...

Donna, my dear, it should be quite clear
To anyone who has watched you trot
An inchworm you, indeed are not.
For despite your sensitivity,
...

The air is humid; the sky is gray.
Nothing seems right - what a dismal day.
My disposition is heavy like the sky overhead;
How often I've wished that I'd stayed in bed.
...

Fifty years a priest you've been,
Fifty years of forgiving sin.
Sacred love propels your life,
While overcoming neglect and strife.
...

Some would have the whole world wed,
Others would view that thought with dread.
It seems in fact that some will wed,
While others will wait, and wait and see,
...

To write a poem is the task to which I'm set;
To write a poem says I, but I don't think I'll bet,
Upon the essence, or variety, or the choice of words I've used.
Since I've never written one before, I'm hoping you're amused.
...

Gathered here as we are today,
One might think we'd come to pray;
Alas, I fear such isn't the case,
We're gathered instead to try and save face.
...

I came to write a sonnet
But forgot to don my bonnet;
Hopelessly chilled, my mind now fades.
As the garbage truck is passing by,
...

My mind is so preoccupied
This decision has been made;
There will be no poem today,
No poem shall there be!
...