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Death Friendship Poems | Death Poems About Friendship

These Death Friendship poems are examples of Death poems about Friendship. These are the best examples of Death Friendship poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | I do not know? | |

Life and Death Across the Sky

   Life and death across the sky
some must live and some
must die
   Broken wings and slivers
   Shredded hopes the
wind is blowing
   Feathers flying, hear the
   Of the Night Hawk
through it all
   Terror blotting out
the stars
   Talons leaving
battle scars
   Life and death across the
sky some will live and some will die.

Copyright © Johnette Loefgren

Details | Free verse | |

Corey Fazel

Koorosh the Great, Friend

All of my heart
One tear
Or one Monsoon
No amount, no grandeur
Can express the sorrow
Oh yes, I am sad, I am saddened
I am in sorrow
I am swimming in the darkness
I am missing something
That can not be said in words

Koorosh the great was a prophecy
For only now have we seen
The truth of greatness
Not by Victory, but by kindness
We are blessed to have seen
How simple life can be
Love your life
Your family
Your friends
Bring everyone laughter
Create, envision and dream
Everyone who knows you feels special
Your father taught you well
Kindness that transcended generations
In the end
A humble man
No god could make him bitter
He was as he always was and more
A kind man

Only when you remove a tree from the garden
Do you realize
The tree was the garden
The flowers bloomed for the tree
The people sought shade and comfort

Quietly, I weep
For him
For his family
For life

If all great leaders followed his path
What a beautiful world we would have
He inspired 
He smiled
Corey, you are missed

Notes: Dedicated to my friend Corey Fazel who just recently passed away before his time. Corey, you will be missed by many many people. It is you with your friendly pertinence that got me to swim, and that alone has changed my life, I will remember the many evenings and dinners we talked about all things under the sun.

MSA is Multiple System Atrophy, a terrible and debilitating disease that attacks the nervous system. It has many of the symptoms of Parkinson, however from onset one has very few years of life left.

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Free verse | |

Marking Time

daylight hours Ozzie and Ben sitting at the picnic table as sunshine danced on the board chess match underway lasted all day, every day till knights and pawns cast long shadows elders’ eyes straining they would bid farewell violet sunsets escorted them home many stories they shared some repeated, but neither cared one brisk fall morning Ben waited for his friend hours on end until the orb began to sink fading light from the spectral sunset an usher of regret Ben sauntered past Ozzie's home black wreath on the door, a herald of loss Ben cast chess pieces on the street no longer wanted to compete after that day Ben’s zest for life faded away sun made its daily journey across the sky but Ben rarely rose from his bed twilight hours found him there still recounting the past tales he and Ozzie had told in his mind never grew old Ben realized the sun would continue on although he could not do the same memories locked within his heart shadowed recollections of a fallen chess king

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | Rhyme | |


Strangely bent this journey extends
Surreal at times, yet so real at ends
Each end confronts with a hardship of choices
With an abrupt passing, or an eternity of voices...

You and I, once on similar trends
Like brothers, we traversed all evil impends
The wheels then turned, unleashed worst of fears
We parted asunder on an ocean of tears

Through fallen decades, aggrieved heart sustained
I found my calling, forgot I was pained
Just when the going got peaceful and boring
Gales of anguish, and war started pouring

Again, I was forced to extinguish my wills
Left home for those in need of my skills
Forced to welcome the worst of thrills
A reward for one with the highest kills?

As we splattered blood on uncertain causes
Strode down the road of victories and losses
A vessel, merely, I was as I killed
Of sons, of husbands, of fathers, I spilled

In the heat of the battle, as I charged through
When my craving eyes met the eyes of you
That instant, that second, that moment, I knew
Neither decades nor ages could help subdue

My faltering sword could no longer fight
For whom I now behold in my sight
And I question my vow, having vowed despite
Whether or not my cause was right

Yet again, I stand on the recurring hill
In the midst of havoc, at a standstill
A piece of land that I swore to defend
Is it worth the life of a brother, a friend?

Copyright © M. Hussain Effendi

Details | Free verse | |

Under the Willow Trees

A path strewn thick with rusty leaves led to nowhere and everywhere in our fantasies, rescuing us from after school chores and homework pages wrinkled in time; a memory come and gone returns to me. Back home, under a row of willow trees, I weep for my childhood friend, for the innocence lost, I thought I could keep, for the faded line between joy and pain that suddenly comes with age; I close moist eyes to see you dancing in rain showers and climbing up rays of sunlight, imagination uncaged; running carefree for hours - just us, two, whether skies were shades of gray or blue. We said forever, a pinky swear I remember, naïve in our make-believe world. How many years passed by, distance growing between you and I? A phone call once-in-a-while became just a Christmas card once-a-year. I hope you always knew the truth, I loved you, my dear friend. Time cannot erase our laughter caught on the autumn breeze and the childhood secrets shared on that path strewn thick with rusty leaves, trodden bare each year come fall of winter snow. Our laughter now echoes in dreams, chaffing the row of willow trees still sulking low, moss brushing tears in timeless beauty, waiting for you to come home.

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

Details | Quatrain | |

To Soar

Gone are the days of childlike hope and dreams.
Our tender years were cast on life's broad streams.
Rich mem'ries float on waters still serene, 
while thoughts drift past the seasons in-between.

That final bend of river not yet seen, 
we set out seeking vistas new and clean,
where aging frame and psyche' still burn bright,
made strong and sharp as blades in morning's light.

We'd dream and see realities yet new.
Our aging forms, set free, would test as true
those aptitudes and skills not proved since youth.
The vision, quite sublime, has become truth.

We'd run the race as when young, full of drive,
to sense a new resolve, to feel alive.
The blood and air would surge deep in our chest,
hearts striving one more time to be the best.

Perhaps, we'd stand on mountain tops and view
our world and all its peoples kind and true.
If foes of that time bid earth-mates good will,
we'd aim from common fate all strife to still.

And, when the course of each life had been run, 
we'd pray wise God affirms all was well done,
while setting each soul free from fated slings
he bids us soar on air that yields to wings.

                                     To Soar

Copyright © Brian Baumgarn

Details | Bio | |

I Am Not Afraid

      On the day the Lord calls me home I will not be 
afraid as I know He loves us one and all and to this
earth we are only on loan
      We have spent all our lives here with family and 
friends and so we leave this earth to go home to be 
with our Lord and our family and friends who have
gone home to Heaven before us
       And so our lives go full circle as the Lord sent us 
down from Heaven to accomplish the things He wants 
us to do here on earth and as we complete this we will 
be called back home to heaven to live forevermore
       I am not afraid as I patiently wait for my call to 
enter the Kingdom Of Heaven where I will wait for my 
family and friends to come home and be with our Lord

Poems Of Inspiration (OLD) Contest 
Sponsor: P.D.
7th Place Winner

Copyright © Carol Sunshine Brown

Details | Cowboy | |


We’ve shared the trail, kicked up some dust, An’ stood a storm or two. We’ve rode the plains, the wide frontier, The easy trails were few. You’ve listened like some wise old sage To ever thing I’ve said, An’ as a friend, supported me, No matter where it led. I wished I coulda carried you, The times you were in pain; Or rustled up some kinda shed To turn the blowin’ rain. I’ve come up shy with some your needs, You gave me more’n you got, But in your silence, seemed to know, I needed you a lot. Compadre, friend, amigo, pard; I called you all them things, But there’s been times, I swear to God, You musta had some wings, An’ He sent you to care for me Like no one had before. If you’as a man an’ not a horse, I couldn’t a-loved you more. We gave this ranch our sweat an’ blood, It’s yours as much as mine, An’ raised our young’uns through the years, An’ Lord they’re doin’ fine. They’re blazin’ trails an’ raisin’ dust, They’re off an’ runnin’ free. We’ve taught ‘em well an’ made ‘em strong; Compadre, you an’ me. I always knew the day would come When we would fine’ly ride, To join the Maker’s round-up time, Up on the Great Divide. I sorta hoped we’d share the trail But this was not to be, So, you go on, we’ll ride again; Compadre, you an’ me.

Copyright © Jim Fish

Details | Ballad | |

Johnny Had A Girl

Johnny was my best friend through our early teenage years;
Wherever one of us went the other could always be found near;
Until he found a girlfriend who soon supplanted me,
But because he was my best friend, for Johnny I was happy;
Johnny had a girl
He had a girl
Johnny had a girl
She rocked his world
Johnny had a girl.

Throughout four years of high school I was always the third wheel;
Going off often by myself, leaving Johnny with his girl;
They learned about biology outside the class room walls;
Johnny always had plans with her every time I would call;
Johnny had a girl
He had a girl
Johnny had a girl
Oh, what a thrill
Johnny had a girl.

One week before graduation, coming home from a date,
Johnny never saw the drunk driver until it was too late.
For three months in a coma, I sat by Johnny’s side;
I knew that when he woke up, someone had to tell him she’s not alive;
Johnny had a girl
He had a girl.

I took him to the gravesite so he could see it with his own eyes;
We stayed there for hours so Johnny could say his goodbyes.

Johnny got in his car that day and started heading west;
Nobody has seen Johnny since, I wish him the very best.
I’ve taken care of her graveside for thirty years and more;
If Johnny ever comes home again, we’ll be friends just like before;
Johnny had a girl
He had a girl
Johnny had a girl.

Copyright © Joe Flach

Details | Elegy | |


Chill breath of autumn
Sears the poppy scarlet red,
On his memory'd cenotaph.

Tears trickle in the furrowed
Faces of young comrades long dead

Copyright © Brian Strand

Details | Sonnet | |

Goodbye Linda Marie

Eloquent, ethereal,
an artist through and through.
Her words alit on gossamer wings
as through our hearts they flew.

Each poem was written from the heart
and soul of our Linda Marie.
A visual portrait painted with words
for us, her audience, to see.

We thank you for your friendship.
You will be missed Sweetheart.
We thank you for the words you left us
before your sad depart.

Your beautiful soul, full of grace,
is in a far, far better place.


Copyright © Francine Roberts

Details | Free verse | |


You left an open door, And a stranger wandered in; She straightened out The cluttered rooms And mended broken things. She wiped away the dust And stains from many tears; She brought flowers, soft music And candles for light. . . . And . . . I closed the door.

Copyright © William Crocker

Details | Rhyme | |

Stormy Heart

Alone in loneliness Amid forever nights And these four walls In faint, whisper soft your name I beg out loud to the nothingness that remains "Please not another nightmare, no more storms" But, answers are merely glimpses of light From lightening... Filtering through the pane Empty sheets... Cast empty shadows on the wall Of places where you used to be Eyes wide open Now asleep, afraid I am to fall Trapped within this never ending dream I cling to all the memories that I have Spinning me closer to where you were, in parallel on the edge The thoughts, like imaginary rubble, comes tumbling passed A fire for you still burning inside Why can’t I let go of the tragedies last And silence your unrescued suicidal screams Or is it only the rain falling faster as it taps harder, and harder upon the glass Or is it of your wandering spirit Mockingly knocking? Haunting with its vindications Of "why’s" I can never seem to grasp All this amidst lost stares into black windows Where gutters overrunning, burdened by the strains And I swear I see your reflection Among the flashes, tracing out illuminations about your face And for the first time You are noticeably absent of all the worldly pains And your lips releasing out a comfort that for so long I've been seeking As I hear the words echo within my stormy heart "That where you are everything is okay"

Copyright © Michael Smith

Details | Rhyme | |

Dying, we awake to eternal life.

His fragile fevered brow is soaked with life’s sweat
Nearing the end, his death has not arrived just yet
Shivering, his body is on fire, he makes a gentle sigh  
His frame broken down by the years now passed by
The end of the final chapter, his book has grown old
Soon in a faith filled church, his past tales will be told
He’s a person, loved, surrounded by his living history
His family hold one another, parts of his closing story 
Go quietly now love, for the time has come to move on
Hush now, your wearied tiredness, is oh so nearly gone
Soon the warmth of living will become so stiff and cold
Leaving this earth’s dusty soil, so as to join an eternal fold
He enters deaths doorway that will close quickly behind
A peace beyond imagination, a kind welcome he will find
Tears flow, fond goodbyes are spoken a kiss of farewell
Do not mourn too long have faith, know he is now well.

Patrick Brennan © 2010

Copyright © Patrick Brennan

Details | Free verse | |

Consume Me

Reveled in ancient times, words escape from the crevices of nature
Through soils that many have tread
The living and the dead
Eat everything and take a great big look
Something is waiting for you—someone is there for you
The history of mankind will not tell you otherwise
The vines of truth and peace surround your being
You are something new and true
And the words are willingly fleeing from my grasp
Life is a spinning top—it spins as long as you keep it going
Manmade trinkets are concepts of lives untold
Objects hold energy that are more powerful than mere words
The feeling behind the whole of it all is all too satisfying
Listen to the breeze
It whispers riddles that lift the spirits of the deep
I can hear it calling
Can you?
Humanity has closed its breadth of hearing
But they can always reopen!
Consume me—let the fires of your passion envelope me
I want to know everything I can before I leave this world behind
I want the living and the dead to be satisfied in luxuries
Luxuries of love, appetite, desire and cool water fire
There is a secret rhythmic chord in every brain
You must accept yourself
You must accept your surroundings
Let them curl all around you—let your heart turn from serpentine to
Clear fluid
Consume the waters
Consume me
Before the worms in the soil soak in what is rightfully yours
The earth will be your companion
Engorge what you may . . . but respect

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | I do not know? | |

Two Little Girls

Three Little Girls:
That's what we were,
Standing outside the school,
You, me, and her.
I remember how it felt 
When you began to cry,
The weighted look of sadness
Reflecting in your eyes.
You missed the place you'd been before,
Where you had built a life,
And here among such harshness,
You had met much strife.

A year later, two little girls we were,
The other off on her own.
We were two in love with the same boy,
And a great friendship had grown.
You'd tease me and we'd laugh,
For hours that seemed like days,
And even though it was you he chose,
Our friendship did not go away.

Two little girls: that's what we were,
Friends until the very end.
As the years passed by,
More & more time together we would spend.
Though maybe not as close, 
Were we, as I wish we could have been,
Our friendship was a strong one, 
Unlike any I had seen.
You never pulled away,
Or said you needed space.
You'd greet me at the door, We'd link arms, a great smile upon your face.

One little girl: that's what I am,
Now that you left me.
I needed you so much,
But I suppose you never really did see.
Two friends, we are, torn apart,
However, our friendship will live on.
For true friendship knows know limits,
The barrier an invisible line that has been drawn.

You're still with me, here, even today,
But your smile I cannot see.
Though you pulled away,
We're closer now than I could have ever hoped to be.

Two little girls: that's what we are,
For no one could pull us apart.
Just like those still with me,
You'll be forever in my heart.
If I had known you'd leave me here alone,
I would have tied you to my side.
I knew not of your intentions,
For the truth you chose to hide. 
You haven't left me here alone,
I just long to hear your voice.
You wrote "The End" to your story,
Without giving me a choice.

If I could, I'd hug you now,
The way I forgot to before.
You're still here with me,
But somehow I want more.
I want your laughter to ring out,
Your song to echo through the halls,
To see again the look upon your face when
We went exploring and found only horses' stalls.

I don't want to be one little girl,
Why did our fun have to end?
I want to be two little girls,
Not one who misses her friend.

Copyright © Jennifer Pruitt

Details | Haibun | |

a thawing of hearts - for contest

I sat quietly and waited, making the noises he had come to know, calling him in his newly given name.  His face would appear, cautiously calculating my intent, he would approach.  The promise of food and gentle touch too much to deny.  And so we did the “Little Prince’s” taming dance, each aware of the other and the possibility of betrayal.

cold eyes, empty heart frost forming on life’s edges winter’s numbing kiss
Our meetings continued, less cautious greetings, more welcome contact, minimal conversation. His coat was becoming more ragged in spite of attempts to keep it up, his gait slowing as our good-byes became short walks together. He could not leave his place, his home, even though it had left him – alone, to fend for himself.
hoarfrost in retreat sunrise gently awakens friendships warming blood
He withdrew – I would wait, quietly, whisper the name he had come to know, make the sounds that signaled “all clear”. I searched for him, stood silent and listened for his weakening call, shed tears in the cold rain of November. His last call, a feeble attempt at good-bye, led me to him. Alone, cold, hungry, he lay there, rolled his eyes as I cradled his cold and fading spirit. He shivered – and left.
winter’s cold cradle ice encasing a friendship a thawing of hearts
10/20/2015 submitted to – Creative Haibuns – Poetry Contest sponsor – Charlotte Jade Puddifoot

Copyright © John lawless

Details | Free verse | |


He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
All results of

Copyright © Laura Hamilton

Details | Epitaph | |

The Day the Eagle Cried

We will never forget exactly where we were, 
	We will never forget exactly what we were doing, 
		We could never forget the loss we felt – 9/11/01.

We saw the birth of amazing heroes,
	We mourned with the grief of thousands,
		We marveled at the strength of the human spirit.

It was the day we held our children more closely,
	It was the day the American Family was reborn,
		And the day we became “One Nation, Under God.”

We heard those resounding words, “A plane hit the tower”,
	We watched in disbelief as the second tower fell to earth,
		And we heard the most heroic of words, “Let’s Roll!”

There were so many lessons that we learned,
	There are so many memories to be held dear,
		There was “Old Glory” – still standing to give us hope.

Firemen, Policemen, Clergy and Civilians-
	Were taken from us in a few fleeting moments,
		We saw a flight of angels, and an Eagle cry.

We became the strongest and most formidable of enemies,
	The most united in spirit and purpose in decades,
		We were filled with renewed honor and pride.

Yes, we lost the very innocence of our being,
	We lost the complacency of everyday routine,
		But yet we gained so much more.

For now we know the true meaning of so many, many words –
	“Indivisible”, “In God We Trust”, “United We Stand”
    		and the most important of all -
			“Greater Love Hath No Man Than This”…

Copyright © Meridy Petricciolli

Details | Blank verse | |

he is leaving home

                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence

                    Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      No .. this was not my hero in music and song .

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                        Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul. 

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~

           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "


Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek

Details | Free verse | |


R.I.P. William Dale Eubanks
d. July 1, 2012, aged 68 yrs., Tennessee Ridge, Tennessee

Death came as no surprise
the first Sunday in July;
it claimed you, on a ridge in Tennessee,
with kin who took you in and waited with you
through the last hard days.
You kept what fears you had well hid,
did not betray with loud complaint
the fate you could not but know awaited.
A smile, a joke, a hug – exotic meals –
And genuine interest greeted all you met.
And you were, certainly, never boring
but well-traveled and smart
beyond the telling.
We’ll miss your wit, your bright demeanor,
and will remember all you freely gave ---
and what you took from us
with your passing.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Rhyme | |

Missing You

You filled my lungs,
When I needed oxygen,
You were my energy,
Boosted me up like Supligen,
You were my sky-scraper,
Not just a tent,
You were my mortgage, 
Not just the rent,
You were my mountain,
And we stood tall,
We played lifes' music,
You kept me glad,
Now your flesh has fallen,
But you are next to God,
Right to the end,
You were my best friend,
In my heart, until we meet again....

Copyright © Richard Palmer

Details | Double Dactyl | |

Beyond Your End

Look deep into yourself my friend,
if then, you need to look to me, 
and deep enough to see the end,
beyond your end is where I'll be.

Into the love someday you'll see,
becoming all the things you'll know,
before your very eyes, I'll be
already where you want to go.

I'll be your long and blinding light,
of which all life is awed,
the thread that reaches through the night
in search of what is God.

And in a while, if love is right,
and hope is not just more pretend,
though you have sought what e'er you might,
'tis me you'll find, beyond your end.

And I will love your death away,
removing from your mind
what'er your death might seem to be,
with love impossible to find.
Û  © RON WILSON aka vee bdosa

Copyright © Vee Bdosa

Details | Dizain | |

Your Support I Need

The physician offered no hope, But why did you push me away? You only said you couldn’t cope To watch me decline, fade away. As I approach my final day, I long for a place in your heart. I wish some support you’d impart. This path is not one I had planned And it’s not my choice to depart. Please offer me a loving hand.

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | Free verse | |

Early mourning

I sift through his Taoist rants
searching the brilliance and madness
for something to make sense; to inspire.

And he does not insult me
with the dust of dead men
though dust is what remains.

Ash falls through my fingers,
as promised, plenty of his own decay,
pure and uncontaminated,

his spirit whispering remembrance;
his legacy blowing in the wind
captured in my heart and lungs.

*Loss contest November 3rd, 2012

Copyright © Thvia Shetley

Details | Rhyme | |

A Friend

A friend is always there for you
when you need them most
A friend will give the last they have
and, never brag or boast

A friend will always love you
just the way you are
A friend will come to visit you
no distance is too far

A friend will give you the biggest hug
on those days you need to cry
A friend will always go with you
and, never ask you why

A friend will always tell you
all the times that you are wrong
A friend will tell you..if you can't sing
when you try to sing a song

A friend will argue and make you mad
`til  you can't see their face
That's when you both..go away for a while
and, give each other space

It's such an amazing thing in life
to have a wonderful friend
Who will share the good times and the bad
until the bitter end

I dedicate this poem to my best Friend 
Greg Stack
May you rest in piece
Feb. 14th 2015

Copyright © Roger Horsch

Details | Elegy | |

The Task

The old screen door still welcomes me
    .. a familiar face, just as before
but after this...who'll pass this way?….
Will they use the rug and wipe their shoes?...
Swipe away the grime and mud?
 .....Or will they even care?

I feel my pulse and lungs collide
I take a breath...and step inside

She lived alone, the last to go....
one amber dawn when skies were clear
silently, without fanfare....
death wafted through these hard wood floors
and took more than a glimpse of her

I've been asked to sell the house,
to clear it out, and set it right…
Somehow, seems wrong…. 
a trespass on the throne of  life
that was softly lived
behind the gate, where thirsty roses bloom, and wait…

I hesitate….
to disturb the lace on drop leaf tables…
disgrace the quiet of the gloom
open drawers, snoop and sort, ….a pruning, 
of the good, the used, from worn and torn

My hands are able, but my heart declines..
what isn’t mine, to toss, to find, to mark, and label…

I hear the echoes, in each room…
along with swishings of my broom…
and the dust motes in the window light
like glitter in the afternoon…
reminders of old sparks ingnited
where cozy logs had offered light
keeping her last nights warm..…

The whirling sound of winds outside… 
whispered breaths of weaving looms
the treadled sounds of sewing hems..
peddled feet, and bustling, rustling
and those of clattering pans and potting blooms…

There are questions I want to ask
tho’ I can’t recall just what they were
no matter now….with no one here
I must be focused….on my task…
it must be done…

And now, …as doors of dark begins
I see, somehow, that fate moved in….
I am glad that I, with my two hands…
have witnessed with a smile, unplanned,
A life once new, until the end

I hold it all, and always will
her life, I held in loving hands

I stand here in the halls of night
content, I'll leave without regret
companioned by a day well spent…

                    I've been within …her company


Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Rhyme | |


Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”

Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”

One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But, there, to his surprise…

Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
Then, after the last one was planted,
He sniffed it; then turned and licked Bob’s face.

Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”

Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.

Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed. 
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.

Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he ‘d come on the double.

Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray, 
“Lord, let this day be my last.”

For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one night,
Both quietly passed away.

The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….

Stood an old dog beside the stone, 
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place. 
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then turned and licked her face.

She smiled.  “I had a dog when I was young...
a good one too.  His name was Pal.”

Copyright © Robert Candler

Details | Free verse | |

'God selected the perfect rose'

your voice now silent never to see you smile again you left us heartbroken unprepared shocked to silence we remember your laughter and your “I can go on attitude” never complaining just being you even when fighting this battle we'll never know why you had to leave us so soon we'll always wonder we'll always have questions God knew your journey was complete when He selected the perfect rose for His garden today--- IN LOVING MEMORY OF A FRIEND AND COLLEAGUE, MICHELLE SCHULTZ 26092011 We, at BABS miss you already

Copyright © Wilma Neels