Health Poetry

Browse Best Health Poetry, we have a special collection of superb, one line and short Health Poetry. Get Beautiful Health Poetry.

• We here at Progressive Health would like to thank you
  For being one of the generous few who’ve promised
  To bequeath your vital organs to whoever needs them.

  Now we’d like to give you the opportunity
  To step out far in front of the other donors
  By acting a little sooner than you expected,

  Tomorrow, to be precise, the day you’re scheduled
  To come in for your yearly physical. Six patients
  Are waiting this very minute in intensive care

  Who will likely die before another liver
  And spleen and pairs of lungs and kidneys
  Match theirs as closely as yours do. Twenty years,

  Maybe more, are left you, granted, but the gain
  Of these patients might total more than a century.
  To you, of course, one year of your life means more

  Than six of theirs, but to no one else,
  No one as concerned with the general welfare
  As you’ve claimed to be. As for your poems—

  The few you may have it in you to finish—
  Even if we don’t judge them by those you’ve written,
  Even if we assume you finally stage a breakthrough,

  It’s doubtful they’ll raise one Lazarus from a grave
  Metaphoric or literal. But your body is guaranteed
  To work six wonders. As for the gaps you’ll leave

  As an aging bachelor in the life of friends,
  They’ll close far sooner than the open wounds
  Soon to be left in the hearts of husbands and wives,

  Parents and children, by the death of the six
  Who now are failing. Just imagine how grateful
  They’ll all be when they hear of your grand gesture.

  Summer and winter they’ll visit your grave, in shifts,
  For as long as they live, and stoop to tend it,
  And leave it adorned with flowers or holly wreaths,

  While your friends, who are just as forgetful
  As you are, just as liable to be distracted,
  Will do no more than a makeshift job of upkeep.

  If the people you’ll see tomorrow pacing the halls
  Of our crowded facility don’t move you enough,
  They’ll make you at least uneasy. No happy future

  Is likely in store for a man like you whose conscience
  Will ask him to certify every hour from now on
  Six times as full as it was before, your work

  Six times as strenuous, your walks in the woods
  Six times as restorative as anyone else’s.
  Why be a drudge, staggering to the end of your life

  Under this crushing burden when, with a single word,
  You could be a god, one of the few gods
  Who, when called on, really listens?

• We live in a world where sickness abounds,
  Sometimes stumping the best of providers.
  Symptoms and tests almost always expound,
  While the emotional costs grow wider.

  The travel and care and expenses we bare,
  In dollars and tears for a healing.
  Pale when compared, with the voluminous prayers,
  Our reverence and humility kneeling.

  Seeing through to the end, great strength we must take,
  And the position that attitude matters.
  A stiff upper lip and a smile sometimes fake,
  Anything less, and fragile hope easily shatters.

  Yet until we’re called home, to streets paved with gold,
  Or abodes filled with love and affection,
  Widely known in the hearts, of the young and the old,
  Laughter remains, life’s greatest healing medication!

• Rich or not
  We all have got
  Chances in lifetime
  To live quite sublime

  More rich people become richer
  And the majority poor more poorer
  It’s not how much money brings boost
  But having enjoyed life not its cost

  Healthy body makes an active mind
  Once sick can’t make good things rewind
  Beware of taking too much of everything
  Good health is wealth and the best thing

• I had a loose tooth, a wiggly, jiggly loose tooth.
  I had a loose tooth, hanging by a thread.

  So I pulled my loose tooth, this wiggly, jiggly loose tooth.
  And put it ‘neath the pillow when I went up to bed.

  The fairies took my loose tooth, my wiggly, jiggly loose tooth.
  So now I have a nickel and a hole in my head.

• My insides feel messed up
  It is all dirty and sinful
  I need water
  But it isn’t a good source of vitamins

  Maybe place fresh cucumber
  That will help
  Drinking until the last drop

  I feel better already

• A national
  dilemma
  fears abound
  losses loom darkly
  i lose mine
  if we are covered..
  i versus we..

  awakening
  from this dream
  a new lucid vision..
  there is no i
  nor a we..
  a bewildering surprise
  the linkage
  our real constitution..
  the real
  patient…

• It has been said that “Health
  is better than wealth.” The truth
  of this statement is difficult to
  refute, especially when one’s
  state of health is so debilitated
  that he must depend upon others
  no less than a baby who must
  depend on his parents to do for
  him basic things such as feed
  or bath him. But even when the
  debilitation is not that extreme
  or incapacitating it is easy to
  recognize that good health is at
  the top of the list of people’s
  most treasured possessions.

• Take care of yourself;
  At the top of the list is your health
  that means far more than wealth.
  And spiritual health that
  is transcendent of heredity
  and the environment enables
  you to do good, enjoy life and
  have peace.

• It’s a special kind of feeling
  Lightness in the breeze
  Lightness in your limbs
  Moving one’s fingers with ease
  A special kind of feeling
  Heading towards real gold
  Spiritual wealth and thriving health
  Treasures and riches untold

  An invaluable, precious feeling
  Life as it’s meant to be
  Breathing with the full confidence of being
  A healthy body enables a life worth living

  An exceptional state of living
  The condition of living is giving
  With every breath of life we’re giving
  Empowering life on earth with healthy living

• I once heard the whisper of falling snow,
  saw a spark in the eye of a coal-black crow,
  felt the power and awe of a swift river’s flow,
  the older I get, the less I know.

  My hair was once braided in golden cornrows,
  by Jamaican friends in an island below,
  a psychic once asked me about Jericho,
  the older I get, the less I know.

  The hot southern asphalt that scalded my toe,
  the rope swing that swung us, to and fro,
  Christmas Eve and the tree in the firelight’s glow,
  the older I get, the less I know.

  Everyone’s gone, but where did they go?
  Why is my spirit sinking so low?
  Is it true we reap only what we sow?
  the older I get, the less I know.