Skip to content
Browse Best Touching Stories Poetry, we have a special collection of superb, one line and short Touching Stories Poetry. Get Beautiful Touching Stories Poetry.
- Look at me! Look into my eyes.
Tell me that you love me, Tell me will survive.
Hold my hand and hug me. Show me that you care.
Show me all the butterflies, The rainbow in the air.
The beauty in your lips. The locks upon your Hair.
Even if you leave me, You’ll always be right there.
My heart is locked for you. I threw away the key.
I asked God once to guide me. He said “she is all you need.”
I closed my prayer with that and continued on this lead.
I promised that i loved you. he said “love her like a queen.”
I took my pay and bought you, this tiny little ring.
i wrote this poem to ask you. Will you marry me?
- If I should ever leave you whom I love
To go along the Silent Way, grieve not,
Nor speak of me with tears, but laugh and talk
Of me as if I were beside you there.
(I’d come – I’d come, could I but find a way!
But would not tears and grief be barriers?)
And when you hear a song or see a bird I loved,
please do not let the thought of me
Be sad . . .
For I am loving you just as
I always have . . .
You were so good to me!
There are so many things I wanted still
To do – so many things to say to you . . .
Remember that I did not fear . . . It was
Just leaving you that was so hard to face . . .
We cannot see Beyond . . .
But this I know:
I loved you so –
’twas heaven here with you!
- Whatever our hands touch—
We leave fingerprints!
On walls, on furniture,
On doorknobs, dishes, books,
As we touch we leave our identity.
Oh please where ever I go today,
Help me leave heartprints!
Heartprints of compassion
Of understanding and love.
Heartprints of kindness
and genuine concern.
May my heart touch a lonely neighbor
Or a runaway daughter,
Or an anxious mother,
Or, perhaps, a dear friend!
I shall go out today
To leave heartprints,
And if someone should say
“I felt your touch,”
May that one sense be…
YOUR LOVE Touching through ME.
- I didn’t get to say “goodbye”,
And all the words I wanted you to hear.
I should have said them when I had my chance,
But I thought that you would always be near.
I ran out of time to let you know,
Just how much you meant to me.
I should have told you, but I thought you knew,
But now I will never know, if you really did see.
When l talk to you in my prayers at night,
I hope you can hear all I have to say.
I would have told you, if only I could,
Have had you back for one more day.
Perhaps there were words you wanted to say also,
That were left unsaid by you.
But I do know that you loved me,
As you knew that I loved you too.
We should always say what we feel in our heart,
As tomorrow may never come.
Speak those words today as you feel them,
And never lose your chance to tell someone.
- The sadness of the present days
Is locked and set in time,
And moving to the future
Is a slow and painful climb.
But all the feelings that are now
So vivid and so real
Can’t hold their fresh intensity
As time begins to heal.
No wound so deep will ever go
Yet every hurt becomes
A little less from day to day.
Nothing can erase the painful
Imprints on your mind;
But there are softer memories
That time will let you find.
Though your heart won’t let the sadness
Simply slide away,
The echoes will diminish
Even though the memories stay.
- ‘Twas battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.
“What am I bid, good people”, he cried,
“Who starts the bidding for me?”
“One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?”
“Two dollars, who makes it three?”
“Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,”
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.
The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said “What now am I bid for this old violin?”
As he held it aloft with its’ bow.
- “One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?”
“Two thousand, Who makes it three?”
“Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone”, said he.
The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
“We just don’t understand.”
“What changed its’ worth?”
Swift came the reply.
“The Touch of the Masters Hand.”
“And many a man with life out of tune
All battered and bruised with hardship
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.
But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters’ Hand.
- Countless letters, countless words
Be with me quietly
While the sun is fading away.
Faraway rosy clouds, faraway stars
Will they sing a lullaby
Let you sleep as sweet as a baby?
Countless yearnings, countless dreams
I want to tell you
Through the lonely nights.
Faraway breezes, faraway rain
Will they send you all my wishes
When my heart sings?
we must say goodbye, someday
once we met?
that’s the way life is?
I’m still waiting
waiting for you to return
When will I see you again?
- Dear Lord,
Please give me strength,
to face the day ahead.
Please give me courage,
as I approach each hurting bed.
Please give me wisdom
with every word I speak.
Please give me patience,
as I comfort the sick and weak.
Please give me assurance,
as the day slips into night.
That I have done the best I can,
that I have done what is right.