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Best Poems Written by Hilda Greenhough

Below are the all-time best Hilda Greenhough poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Happy 2025

Melting away is the year 2024.
We powered through or failed, but the hour is no more.
For the New Year celebrants, tonight gives no clue, 
But I wish a year of happiness to everyone of you.
          Happy New Year.

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

The Tormented Moon

The.isolated moon in  far arc of her epogee,
As she searches Earth's surface in cold winter's hemisphere,
She bites her tongue of protest of what she will never be,
And throws sharp knives of jealousy into the atmosphere.

In the cold moon's distant musings, her echoes can't be heard, 
And but for the crunch of snow, silence waits for morning sun.
A blizzard has filled a reservoir, and so needs prepared,
Yet moon added sparkly diamonds to selfish pleasure's run.

The winter moon shivers with knowledge that her days will end,
And a yellow moon will rise during six months of the year.
The anguished, tormented moon whose dark murmurs now portend, 
She will vanquish the yellow moon, and once more reappear.

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

The Jews

Years ago, my aunt developed mesothelioma.  She and her husband did not have money for medical care. It was a Jewish hospital that took her in, and helped her through her last days free of charge.
The Jews have built many hospitals, made contributions to many charities, and established many foundations. The list is endless.
 Jews have been instrumental in government and finance. They have served in our American armed forces from recruits to high level generals and admirals.
I have never seen a Jew burn an American flag.
I have never heard of a Jew cry out for his God while assaulting a woman. 
Jews take their God seriously, and are respectful In prayer.
Jews are good pet owners. Many Jews own cats and/or dogs. Jews recognize dogs as one of God's gifts to all of us.
Jews endure a lot of hate and bullying, yet they stay strong.

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

The Dogwood Flower

I was a youngster when my sight began to realize,
When I viewed a tree of flowers that grew across the road.
Whereas this time of beauty was forming within my eyes,
Where the shapes and lines are made from the clay that memories mold.

A flower on the tree branch seemed to bloom before my sight.
Sacred bloom was a symbol of where Jesus had been nailed,
The central color brown in midst of petals of pure white.
Yet, my eyes saw baby Jesus; and my soul had been unveiled.

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Vanishing Buffalo

  They thundered across the fertile plains,
  Those hardened hooves, those tangled manes,
   But now the Buffalo can't be found.
   They thundered across the fertile plains.
   The long grass has vanished from the ground
   Where cities and highways now abound.
   They thundered across the fertile plains,
   Those hardened hooves, those tangled manes.

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The Horse Rider

An expert rider, a solid horse, what greater pals can there be?
To stretch the land amongst the hills, to charge past the wind and be free.

The horse's hooves slam to the earth like an auto's fiery pistons.
His mane flows like a mighty river while his wild wide-eye glistens.

Rider balances, holding the reins, and moves as one with the horse.
She gentles her steed, who knows he's safe, and so they complete the course.

How great to ride with the speed of a 'comet' on an Autumn day.
How great to pace with the thrill of the ride, to live what comes your way.

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Morning Rise

Merlin's wand brushes the sky,
As the sun rises with a groan.
The caw of crows are harbingers
Of brightening days tomorrow.
Full rightly is the special one
Seated upon the Stone of Scone.
Prayers bring full circle ancestors, 
Whose Book of Charms they borrow.
     In four more days is Christmas Tide.

             Here Nature waits.
             The tree alive.
             These words are shunned
             By Rome's contrive.

This good day gives each a gift
To the person by his side.
Sealed now with song of return,
May Earth, in wealth, be well-supplied.
      In four more days is Christmas Tide.

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

The Unbroken

'Sell out your country' is what they said, 
As water kept dripping on his head.
Two days had passed since he went to bed.
'Sell out your country' is what they said.
Three days passed since he had been fed.
Denial of his Rights had not been read.
'Sell out your country' is what they said, 
As water kept dripping on his head.

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Yield

Yield? Not to you, I certainly won't. 
I'll parry on hot coals, I'll lunge to your affront.
Succumb? I'll not breathe your air of lies,
Since no honeyed sweetness makes me compromise.
Supplicate? Then throw down your armor at will.
Once freed from this battle, you will be my love still.

Details | Hilda Greenhough Poem

Stifled Dreams

The life that's long brings to a man a change
Of those traditions then to modern thrill.
May journeys, that we're staid, now rearrange
To open thoughts and chance for a new skill.
Does work march on by rules of a new drill?

The World turns man like marbles in a jar,
And leaves him searching for a perfect star.