On this Blog I will be posting things that people are doing to make this world a better place. In the comment section of each post I would like you to tell me about things you have done to make the lives of those around you better. It could be something as simple as buying someone in need a hot meal. Any of the things you put in the comments section will be posted on this Blog.


Request for (10) cards: Send a self addressed, stamped envelope to:

Promise Cards
4710 Farming Ridge Blvd.
Reading, Pa. 19606

Friday, September 30, 2011

The Promise by Patrick Dykie




Rising amidst misty dreams of sleep,
The coming dawn a whisper on the wind
 Remembering a promise left to keep,
A promise never to rescind
To one who sits, and thinks and waits,
I must arise not hesitate.

Sad, alone and feeling hunger,
Hope is all he has to hold
As memories of being younger,
Help to push back bitter cold
Everything else seems to fade,
Except the thought of a promise made.

I had seen him in the park,
Sitting beside all he owned
Bundled against the coming dark,
Wishing the night could be postponed
He looked at me so beaten down,
But a smile I saw, and not a frown.

A stranger once had stopped to talk,
A nice young man who held my eyes
He said he came here just to walk,
I looked for truth and saw no lies
He passed a bag of food and turned,
 Then stopped and promised to return.

I rush along and look around,
An empty bench and silence greet me
Ahead I see upon the ground,
The one I promised by a tree. 
Whispered words, a gentle shake,
Is all he needs to come awake.

A familiar face framed by the sun,
I recognize, and soon remember
A promise made, this is the one,
He visited me this past September.
He reaches down to grasp my hand,
He pulls me up I try to stand.

I'm sorry that it took so long,
I was afraid and couldn't sleep
I wish I could've been so strong,
A promise made I need to keep
No more tears, please don't be sad,
It's time to come home now; Dad.


     I wrote this poem to remind us of all the people in this country who are homeless. Many of them are suffering from mental illness, or drug and alcohol abuse. Many of them are beaten down by circumstances and have lost all hope. This poem is about someone I once knew. His father was a veteran who had suffered for years with mental illness. He had left his family to become one of the millions of homeless people. This poem had a happy ending, because his son found him, and made a promise to return. He then returned for his dad, brought him home, and got him the help he needed. Promises are so important. Take care.

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