Inexplicable Joy

A joy that’s inexplicable,
That gladly overwhelms.
Like eating a glorious meal,
Within a peaceful realm.

It’s accepting the truthful fact,
That tomorrow’s unknown.
By trusting God who never lacks,
You relax on your throne.

You see someone who clearly rose,
From the wrong side of bed.
Instead of becoming a foe,
You share a smile instead.

Joy when you see a newborn smile,
It’s magic and glory.
Joy when you see your Grandma dial,
To share her life stories.

You choose to turn the other cheek,
When someone insults you.
Instead you pray for them to seek,
A joy you know is true.

Like Jesus at the Last Supper,
He knew His time was near.
Despite this His joy was proper,
He gave thanks, ate with cheer.

Though we do have our ups and downs,
I challenge you today.
Choose to have joy, put on your crowns,
You’re vital like sun rays.

By Elicia Fyle


Life on a Yellow School Bus

Here, I have written a poem of a young girl who explains her experiences on an American school bus. She’s an immigrant to the US, and describes her interesting observations while travelling to and from school on the yellow bus. Her story may or may not be based on the author’s experiences. Who knows 🙂

Freshman year of High School came,

She climbed on Bus Fourteen.

The sun shined through the stained windows,

She sat on old leather seats.

“The fourteen-year-old on Bus Fourteen!”

She youthfully made the link.

“I’m on an American yellow school bus!”

Her mind would joyfully think.

Her bus journeys were a snapshot,

Of the different people she’d meet.

Most would be loud and proud,

Few would be willing to greet.

A friendly person she met,

Was the bus driver on the wheel.

He’d often grab them food,

And pay for their whole meal.

The loud kids sat at the back,

One threw a shoe at her head.

Apparently accidental,

She questioned the motive instead.

And then there were the unique,

She watched one particular youth.

He’d catch a flying cicada,

And eat it, licking his tooth.

“I’m on an American yellow school bus!”

Her mind would joyfully think.

She became the observant one,

Her eyes would never blink.

By Elicia Fyle