Riches and Rhymes

The Poetry and Writing of Janis Gaines

Category: Favorite Poems

To You, From God

To: You

From: God

By BekahM


My darling, My sweetheart, My love, My dear

I am always with you, yes I am always near

My beautiful, My exquisite, My precious work of art

When you smile or when you laugh, so does My heart

My love for you is overwhelming

I am calling out your name

No matter what you do

I will love you just the same

I did not make a mistake, when it was you that I chose

My treasure, My jewel, My child, My rose

I will say it again and again, until you really believe it

I love you, My masterpiece

So please, receive it

My darling, My sweetheart, My love, My dear

I am always with you, so do not ever fear

My beautiful, My exquisite, My precious work of art

My joy, My pearl, we will never be apart.

***NOTE: This poem was written by one of my former students, BekahM. She emailed this to me one random Thursday back in January 2015, and it was so timely as I was beginning a new writing class, which had been a spirit-led decision for me. It really felt like a personal love letter from God. I don’t know if she wrote this just for me, but it sure seemed like it. I was so touched and so grateful. I’ve never had a student do anything like this before or since. This girl is very poetic and musically talented. I hope she keeps writing!



I found this metaphor about how we choose oranges and relationships to be surprisingly intimate. This poem was originally posted here.


By Roisin Kelly

I’ll choose for myself next time
who I’ll reach out and take
as mine, in the way
I might stand at a fruit stall

having decided
to ignore the apples
the mangoes and the kiwis
but hold my hands above

a pile of oranges
as if to warm my skin
before a fire.
Not only have I chosen

oranges, but I’ll also choose
which orange — I’ll test
a few for firmness
scrape some rind off

with my fingernail
so that a citrus scent
will linger there all day.
I won’t be happy

with the first one I pick
but will try different ones
until I know you. How
will I know you?

You’ll feel warm
between my palms
and I’ll cup you like
a handful of holy water.

A vision will come to me
of your exotic land: the sun
you swelled under
the tree you grew from.

A drift of white blossoms
from the orange tree
will settle in my hair
and I’ll know.

This is how I will choose
you: by feeling you
smelling you, by slipping
you into my coat.

Maybe then I’ll climb
the hill, look down
on the town we live in
with sunlight on my face

and a miniature sun
burning a hole in my pocket.
Thirsty, I’ll suck the juice
from it. From you.

When I walk away
I’ll leave behind a trail
of lamp-bright rind.

Source: Poetry (September 2015)


Imitate the Trees

Imitate the Trees
By May Sarton


Imitate the trees
Learn to lose in order to recover
And remember that nothing stays the same for long
Not even pain…

Sit it out.
Let it all pass.
Let it go.










If thou of fortune be bereft

If thou of fortune be bereft” by John Greenleaf Whittier

If thou of fortune be bereft,
and of thyne earthly store hath left
two loaves; sell one,
and with the dole, buy hyacinths to feed the soul.


i carry your heart with me

[i carry your heart with me]

By E. E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear
no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)







“[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]” Copyright 1952, © 1980, 1991 by the Trustees for the E. E. Cummings Trust, from Complete Poems: 1904-1962 by E. E. Cummings, edited by George J. Firmage. Used by permission of Liveright Publishing Corporation.

Source: Poetry (June 1952).

Let Evening Come

Let Evening Come

By Jane Kenyon

Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don’t
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.

flowers grass pier evening 1280x1024 wallpaper_www.wall321.com_78








Jane Kenyon, “Let Evening Come” from Collected Poems. Copyright © 2005 by the Estate of Jane Kenyon. Reprinted with the permission of Graywolf Press, St. Paul, Minnesota,

Source: Let Evening Come: Poems (Graywolf Press, 1990)

One Art

One Art

By Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.








Elizabeth Bishop, “One Art” from The Complete Poems 1926-1979. Copyright © 1979, 1983 by Alice Helen Methfessel. Reprinted with the permission of Farrar, Straus & Giroux, LLC.

Source: The Complete Poems 1926-1979 (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1983)