Well, it's been awhile since I've made an entry. I recently had an occasion to give a close friend a couple appropriate Guest poems. He found himself in a traumatic and life changing situation. I laminated the two poems and gave them to him.

The next day his assistant saw the poems on his desk, read them, and asked if she could get copies. When I brought the copies to her, she told me that when she read one of them, it was so meaningful to her that she cried through the whole poem.

She gave me a hug. This is why I share Edgar's poems.

Following is: No use Sighin' and All for the Best.


No Use Sighin’ Edgar A. Guest

No use frettin’ when the rain comes down,
No use grievin’ when the gray clouds frown,
No use sighin’ when the wind blows strong,
No use wailin’ when the world’s all wrong;
Only thing that a man can do
Is work an’ wait till the sky gets blue.

No use mopin’ when you lose the game,
No use sobbin’ if you’re free from shame,
No use cryin’ when the harm is done,
Just keep on tryin’ an’ workin’ on;
Only thing for a man to do,
Is take the loss an’ begin anew.

No use weepin’ when the milk is spilled,
No use growlin’ when your hopes are killed,
No use kickin’ when the lightnin’ strikes,
Or the floods come along an’ wreck your dykes;
Only thing for a man right then
Is to grit his teeth an’ start again.

For it’s how life is an’ the way things are
That you’ve got to face if you travel far:
An’ the storms will come an’ the failures too,
An’ plans go wrong spite of all you do;
An’ the only thing that will help you win,
Is the grit of a man and a stern set chin.



All for the Best Edgar A. Guest

Things mostly happen for the best.
However hard it seems today,
When some fond plan has gone astray
Or what you’ve wished for most is lost
An’ you sit countin’ up the cost
With eyes half-blind by tears o’ grief
While doubt is chokin’ out belief,
You’ll find when all is understood
That what seemed bad was really good.

Life can’t be counted in a day.
The present rain that will not stop
Next autumn means a bumper crop.
We wonder why some things must be –
Care’s purpose we can seldom see –
An’ yet long afterwards we turn
To view the past, an’ then we learn
That what once filled our minds with doubt
Was good for us as it worked out.

I’ve never known an hour of care
But that I’ve later come to see
That it has brought some joy to me,
Even the sorrows I have borne,
Leavin’ me lonely an’ forlorn
An’ hurt an’ bruised an’ sick at heart,
In life’s great plan have had a part.
An’ though I could not understand
Why I should bow to Death’s command,
As time went on I came to know
That it was really better so.

Things mostly happen for the best.
So narrow is our vision here
That we are blinded by a tear
An’ stunned by every hurt an’ blow
Which comes to-day to strike us low.
An’ yet some day we turn an’ find
That what seemed cruel once was kind.
Most things, I hold, are wisely planned
If we could only understand.


Then a week ago, we celebrated Memorial Day at or church. Every year this is a separate service held in our cemetary beside the church. Usually - a prayer, a hymn, a message from a military guest, taps, and the cannon is fired. This year, between the message and taps, I read Edgar's poem, Memorial Day. A few people thanked me and praised the poem.

One lady gave me a hug. This is why I share Edgar's poems.

Following is Memorial Day.


Memorial Day Edgar A. Guest


These did not pass in selfishness: they died for all mankind;
They died to build a better world for all who stay behind;
And we who hold their memory dear, and bring them flowers today,
Should consecrate ourselves once more to live and die as they.

These were defenders of the faith and guardians of the truth;
That you and I might live and love, they gladly gave their youth;
And we who set this day apart to honor them who sleep
Should pledge ourselves to hold the faith they gave their lives to keep.

If tears are all we shed for them, then they have died in vain;
If flowers are all we bring them now, forgotten they remain;
If by their courage we ourselves to courage are not led,
Then needlessly these graves have closed above our heroes dead.

To symbolize our love with flowers is not enough to do;
We must be brave as they were brave, and true as they were true.
They died to build a better world, and we who mourn to-day
Should consecrate ourselves once more to live and die as they.