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Ode Song Poems | Ode Poems About Song

These Ode Song poems are examples of Ode poems about Song. These are the best examples of Ode Song poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ode | |

The Memories of a Dancing Peacock

The Memories of a Dancing Peacock 
( Based on a true incident captured in my Camera )

I was in a mood to sing, and

The Peacock was in a mood to dance, 

My singing came, while watching the beauty and 

The beauty started unfolding its wings and charms, 

As if the Peacock was listening the songs, 

I was singing, silently in my mind.  

Oh, what a joy it was to feel and share, 

Those wonderful moments 

I spent with that beautiful bird,

Who kept dancing and dancing,

Till the song continued in my mind silently.

You and I may not be dancing or living forever, O, bird,

But the image, which you have engraved on my mind and

The rhythms of that joy and pleasure, 

Which you have left,  

Would continue to generate always,

The music of silence and beauty in every mind.

Kanpur India 28th December 2011

NOTE:IMP. NOTE: The Memories of a Dancing Peacock
The Photo Poem cum Song is also on my Music Channel
"RavindraKK1" on U Tube. or you simply use this URL

For my Videos Songs on My U Tube just write on Google "RavindraKK1 
and go on U Tube Channel - RavindraKK1

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor

Details | Ode | |

A Heart Song

A heart hath no boundaries,
It sees no fault, it does not fear.
It walks a narrow path alone,
Meeting sorrows along the way.
A path full of strife,
Yet it tarries along the path,
Till it reaches the place 
Of absolute eternity.

Copyright © Fiona Herne

Details | Ode | |

In Memoriam (Che Guevara)

I woke up this morning with tears in my eyes,
your face was in the morning paper;
they shot you dead like a dog,
hunted you out all day and night.

They said you'd always been a bad seed
and youths were dying because of you;
they said you're a criminal on the run
with a dirty face and shaggy head.

But I know you better than they do,
you preached love to all the people;
you fought for them, young and old,
you lit up their nights with your heart.

And now as I see you lying dead,
it seems my dreams have vanished as well;
they can call you names, any names they want,
but I know there's only one like you, 
there's only one like you, 
there's only one Che Guevara.
              (Repeat Refrain)
You lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart,
you lit up their nights with your heart.

Copyright © Wilfredo Derequito

Details | Free verse | |

An Ode To A Friend

We met in 8th grade...We became great friends and
Years later,

She Dared Me To Write my First Poem January 21, 1948...we were both 16...I on January 9th and she on January 20th same year.

"I bet you can't write the second verse to this poem!" she said to me in sassy manner...

She shoves a note book page to me with a scribble in her handwriting.

The title was "I Love To Dance!"

How absurd I thought, after all, I was a "singer!"

Without hesitation I took the paper and began to write..."I'd love to be held close in your arms where only I could share all your charms..." 

I followed with a few more line of "poetic bliss", to my thinking, and her respone was..."How did you do that?"

I replied, hands on hips, "Well you wrote the first so I wrote the second!"

Eloise replied in evident astonishment, "Girl, mine was from a song sheet!"
We fell out laughing as any 16 year olds would do.

Of course, I've written thousands of poems since then and I often say, "It's like breathing to me!".

My friend Eloise will be laid to rest tomorrow, March 16, 2013...Such a sad song for me. We stayed in touch over the years and often still laughed about that dare for me to write a second verse...Who knew?!

My heart is filled with the sorrow of Eloise's demise
Yet I sing still

Copyright © Cynthia Alvez

Details | Ode | |


I wrote for you my best love song
I sing it everyday.
The melody from your kisses
The words from your every smile

I wrote for you my best love song
To sing a never ending love
The rhythm from your laughter
The notes from each step you take

Each day I sing you in my mind
I play you on my heart
I hum you in my whispers
I strum you in my eyes

I wrote for you my best love long
As only a mother could write
To the child who gives her laughter
Son…my best love song is you

Copyright © Marcia Walton

Details | Free verse | |

An Ode to LIFE Part 1

An Ode To LIFE

As I lay my head down and start to fall asleep I see myself being carried off to a place and time the place of our Lords birth in Bethlehem of Judea

As in the Bible tells the story of His life and how he lived and died in that human seance and rose on the day He told of

I do not remember being here but I remember the story I was taught so many years ago

As I walk through the streets of Bethlehem I see each scene  and hear  every word as I am learning the story they telling is true

The writer writes of a jealous King  and his way of dealing with his people and of Mary and Joseph who came to Bethlehem to have a child

The story tells of the three wise men  who saw a star in the north and heard of a child  who was born to be the King of the Jews  and come to see and bring Him gifts 

An  angel from the Heavens above came to Mary and Joseph in a dream and told them they had to leave Bethlehem or King Herod would have their son killed 

So they left Bethlehem and went to Egypt and there they lived until King Herod no longer ruled

As I follow along in my dream I see each scene  and hear  every word as I am puzzled by the fact I understand each

I don’t understand why I’m going through this time but I know I must continue on this journey 

As I am pulling through a time where I reach the place of Jesus’ in  Nazareth of Galilee

As I watched Him grow and work in His father's shop I could see the thing in Him that were with me

As I walk along the streets and look around I hear the people talk of a child that speaks of wondrous love that’s all forgiving and of a Father in Heaven that’s loving and true.

By Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
Copyright 2013

                                                            Inspired by God

Copyright © Rev. Dr. Samuel Mack OMS DD

Details | Ode | |



Sing a song of Christmas
Stockings all in a row,
Tangerines and pennies
Tucked into the toe.

If you were really lucky,
You might get a toy,
A dolly for a little girl
And soldiers for a boy.

Sing a song of Christmas
Bringing home the tree,
With mistletoe and holly,
We decorate for free!

Paper chains and candles
Brighten up the hall,
Lots of fun and laughter
Not much expense at all.

Sing a song of Christmas
Now things have changed
Children now hang up a
That’s filled on Christmas

Flashing lights on houses
Are fun for all to see,
But they’re going to cost a
fortune in electricity.

Sing a song of Christmas
Thank goodness some things
In best Yuletide tradition
Drink a toast to Christmas past.

Sing a song of Christmas
Every one’s happy and glee,
Opening up their presents,
Given by you and me.

Sing a song of Christmas
We all sit down for lunch,
Looking all around the
What a tasty bunch!

Sing a song of Christmas
Gran’s in her room,
Sending out a text message,
She comes out with her

Sing a song of Christmas
Family all around,
Merry Christmas to you all,
You cannot hear a sound!

Sing a song of Christmas
Pretending to be happy,
Oh I like my socks – 
I got from my granny!

Sing a song of Christmas
We love to just be happy,
But certain people can’t
be like this;
They are a real misery.

Christmas past and some are
That is how it is,
But deep inside we do feel
Christmas can be bliss.

To all those other Christmases
From when we were all small.
In Dickens’s words from Tiny
Tim: ‘God bless us, one and all.’

Sing a song of Christmas
Baby Jesus is born today,
We all do go to sing in church,
And to the lord, we pray.


Copyright © Darryl Ashton

Details | Ode | |

The song of the Fair Maiden

When lost in the Aegean Sea, I heard a song afar from my sails;
          Blinded by the fogs, I sail to the direction of that voice.
Guided by the sweet voice and arouse by the melody, I followed the path of which I knew not,
         And found myself drifting ashore a foreign land.
         Haul by the passing mist; I saw a hill that rose above the lands,
         My ship was in the middle of the two great hills that looked down and over the shores.
         I looked above and saw no clouds, just the blue skies; I could still hear her voice
        The wind blew ever so gently as I move my rudder,
        That song can still be heard, yet I know not where she is?
         I looked to find that voice that eludes me, that called me;
         But, yet, I found nothing, saw no one.
         She sang a sadden song, of lost love, but lost love I knew not?
         I am a stranger, afar my abode, a stranger lost in the midst of seas.
         Hold and steadfast, for my heart feels allured by the maiden song,
Yes...though my heart be sadden by her song, her voice drifts my soul across the Styx.
        God makes all things beautiful; all things have purpose, and is her song,
        Whether it be joy or sorrows, her song, is the song of a broken heart.
        That took hold my empty vessel, and filled it with joy,
         Though I never thought song of sorrow can be taken for a joy.
         I sailed far and afar from the shores, and saw the hills moved further away.    
         I could still hear her song, I looked back and saw her, a fair maiden.
        God's grace that showed me, a spirit of a woman, that took my heart and broke it. 
         Her skin as white as snow, her deep blue eyes that stared into my soul, 
         her hair long and gold as that of a golden fleece.
          She a ghost of the past, singing to guide her lover back into her bosoms
          And her lips afar from mine. At last! it was not for me. 
          A strong wind that force my eyes shut and bent my knees.
         As I stood up and saw no more, I heard not her song, aye, neither her voice.
        She was gone with the wind.
       The song of the fair maiden still resonates in mine heart as I sail a distant shores. 
       Even if  death approaches me and take'th my life, 
        My words of praises for her beauty will live on forever.

Copyright © LIde Sangtam

Details | Ode | |

The silent song in Pere Lachaise

As I crossed the gravel way
Of chemim de la Geurite
Through dead leaves that fell astray
I dodged them in a wild mad spree
As I crossed the gravel way

As I climbed up the granite wall
Thick and cold and high
To the top, feeling small
I slid across the rim
As I climbed up the granite wall

Down the other side I went
Through coins strewn about
Through photos and through flowers spent
I slowly crawled along
And down the other side I went

There were people standing over me
People standing high
People with teary eyes did see
The writing on the wall
As there were people standing over me

And as I headed towards chemim Lebrun
I heard some people sing some old forgotten songs
Holding candles of whitish hue
Lamenting a man called Jim
As I headed towards chemim Lebrun

And as I rested for a while
In my house upon my back
I rested with a blissful smile
At the end of my shiny track
As I rested for a while

Copyright © Daniel Human

Details | I do not know? | |

An Ode to the Bath-House (by Vladimir Vysotsky)


Vladimir Vysotsky

God, bestow on us your salvation,
God, your blessing bestow on us,
When we, dirty, begin the lavation,
Washing spirit and flesh in the bath!

Mother-water’s  renascent, reviving,
Healing ugliness, sickness and sores.
Here you feel how nature is thriving,
Here you feel that the birthright restores!

Sins and faults, in your soul embedded,
Any nuisance which grinds you or bores,
By hot steam that’s been lavishly added,
Are knocked out of you through your pores!

All your torments are evaporated
And dissolve in the sky to your mirth;
Being freed from your vices and hatred,
You can start a new life on the earth!

It’s not washing – it’s purification!
Don’t you rush outside, take your time!
Give your soul some hard perspiration,
Steam away all its mire and slime!

Naked bodies – defects are not hidden.
Never mind! You’ll be cleansed and renewed!
In the bath-house just like in Eden:
Only those can stay, who are nude!

Rid of pride when the pants you are stripping,
Rid of vanity, being undressed,
Since a besom is equally whipping
Any legs, any back, any breast!

How one is exactly like others
In a sauna you can esteem;
All are free in the bath, all are brothers
And the parity rules in the steam!

Through the bath-house pass generations,
Through the water, that’s holy and prized,
Through affection, through mercy and patience
We, barbarians, must be baptized!

Translated by George Tokarev


Copyright © George Tokarev

Details | Ode | |


Whenever tears roll down
somebody's face,
and whether it brings joy, reward or pain:
it matters to someone
whose life, somehow, has broken him down,
or has lifted him up through grace;
it matters when one rejoices,
and sees in victory
what his bewildered eyes
couldn't ever have imagined it to be...

He chose  the path to glory
without harboring suspicions,
or being frightened by unseen woes
and hard-and fast rules;  
he made swift choices    
and built up his courage from nothing;
and what his fearless mind couldn't perceive,
wasn't so impossible to dream,
but surely achieved
through grit and indisputable duty...

Whatever that solemn oath
relied on a certain promise, he never lost heart,
because his valor never seemed to lessen a bit;
and he was taken above and beyond his fears
by not foreseeing any disheartening defeat:
confidence had given his untiring feet a steady beat...

It matters to someone to be recognized,
and cherish that moment of gladness:
perhaps the only moment to be remembered
and be locked away in his past;
a brave soldier at his best,
never settling for anything less,
always going above and beyond his expectations,
to honor and safeguard the Country that he loves...


Copyright © Andrew Crisci

Details | Ode | |

Girl on a Bicycle at the Fair

spokes of a turning wheel
strung with colored string
strumming fingers playing
plain and turning
turning plain
and simply round and round

colors whirl up and around
up and down
music moving turning sound
rhythm round

swirl of colorful motion
jaunty ribbons of song
bright and shining
shining bright
and lightly up and away

Copyright © Ginna Wilkerson

Details | Ode | |


In these days of the dance
I will handle the bass
And strike with my finger
The strings of the guitar
Playing the tunes of love
Just to sing I love you Lord

You took me from the miry clay
You are my rock and stay
In your goodness and mercies
You showered me blessings
You school me in your kingdom college
That inspires my every knowledge

To you I give my whole heart
It will remain like that
I won’t cause heart break
For I have known how it pains
Let me be simple and plain
I want you to believe this:

I will not stir your jealousy
I will not break your heart, never 
This is my song forever
This is the tune I’ll keep playing for love
Just to sing I love you Lord.

Copyright © Prince Agba

Details | Ballad | |

Ode to a rock song

He thought he was a poet
but turned out to be a lyricist
He didn't even know it
Until his words were on the hit list

He wrote sonnets a-plenty
Rhyme and meter sublime
They made songs of almost twenty
Without paying him a dime!

He woke up to it all too late
He dozed too long, too ignorant
But such is the blind fool’s fate
If of worldly ways indifferent

“how I missed my ultimate calling!”
he wailed and cried and sobbed
as he heard his words on beats a-falling
Of honor and credit robbed

The producers made a killing
The poet died in debt
But the words stayed alive and thrilling
On vinyl’s preciously kept

In the end the poet was rewarded
By life’s eternal song
And posthumously awarded 
Credit that tried to right the wrong

But far above the earthly sky
Looking down upon the thieves
No tears were there to cry
As he sat under Abraham’s eaves

Seeing the producers one by one
Shedding their fleshy pants and top
To be wrapped in burning flames and sun
Wailing and crying for a single drop

Copyright © Daniel Human

Details | Cowboy | |

Ode To A Blueberry Roan

I was heading to the bunkhouse, after a wild night on the town
dancing & romancing & one too many round
Back in my wild & woolly days, one more rowdy Saturday night
full of cheap beer & whiskey & the necessary fight
I set Ol' Gus on auto pilot, he knew the way back to the spread
And I set to fighting with those rotgut demons dancing in my head
We were getting pretty close to home, so I eased up on the bit
when all of a sudden that dang horse he up & quit
His ears were all pricked forward, listening quite intense
I caught a drift of what might pass for music, somewhere beyond the fence
It took a lot of persuading, cussing & cajoling
but I got ol' Gus headed for all the caterwauling 
the sound got more peculiar as we crested the hill
the memory of what I saw that moonlit night stays with me still
for I had stumbled on a peculiar party, hosted by a peg leg dog
and there was a one eyed pole cat doing comedic monologue
A Blueberry Roan soon took the stage, singing Motley Crue
I swear I saw a big ol' ornery hog with a "born to squeal" tattoo
There were bulls & Heifers dancing, I couldn't believe my eyes
why those bovine wore spikes and body piercings, in places utterly unwise
There where horses with mohawk hairdos head banging to the song
I swear to you, Ol' Gus, he began to sway & sing along
Now I know what you're thinking & I most heartily agree
it was the moon & wind playing tricks, along with rotgut whiskey
You city folks can keep your pink elephants parading in tutus
for this cowboy was shown the light by a Roan in blue suede shoes
I gave up hell raising & carousing, said so long to the honky-tonk life
Happy now to stick to ranching & dancing under the moon with my wife
But every now & again, when the wind blows & the moon is shining bright
I swear I can hear the livestock laughing & head banging through the night

Copyright © Catherine Devine

Details | Free verse | |

Ode to the Beatles' song stuck in my head

Strawberry fields.
I want to go there
where giraffes in art class
form human shapes
out of vanilla candle wax.

Surreal like a Dali painting
with melting clocks
strewn over large rocks
where nothing is real, 
but not so unbelievable either.

Copyright © Dawnell Harrison

Details | Ode | |

Silent Night Sky

Oh how can one capture 
Your beauty on paper
Without you evaporating
Off as it is your nature

The stars are your jewels
The moon is your crest
Everyone drools
As if blessed

Your silence is serenity
That whisper to my thoughts
An overwhelming beauty
That ties my stomach up in knots

How humble I am sound
A beauty incomparable
With a radiance so profound
Your absence is unbearable

Copyright © Ana Ramirez

Details | Free verse | |

The Needle Pushes: An Ode to the Pink Floyd Song Comfortably Numb

the needle pushes in her face 
a kiss and the wall scratches 
higher naked searching cracks
for an exit you scream soldiers
planes flash back and forth flying
a room fills with angry anxious
voices shadows growing tall
corpses rise flowers swallow
space white crosses over graves
praying mantis mothers explode
down the endless fluorescent
hall your lifted into the 
long black limo ripping worms
from your face

Copyright © Alex Roth

Details | Rhyme | |


You who transcend the shallow depths
Of commercial rants and ravings
You who labour, out of love
To satisfy your honourable cravings

Though some of you have fallen
At the alter that you serve
And further true, that so few of you
Have found what you deserve

For to be what you are and not what you aren't
To produce what it is and not what it wasn't
Is your only sin, your only failing
The muse of 'The Label', a banshees wailing
In your depths of despair, the weak and the strong
In your gardens of Eden your towers of song

Stay true my friends, transfixed in thought
Creative in your vision
Let not the chains of commerce
Bend your knees, in indecision

To work for pay, is not your way
Be paid for work you're doing
Enrich the World, with poem and song
Though that be your undoing

For to be what you are and not what you aren't
To produce what it is and not what it wasn't
Is your only sin, your only failing
The muse of 'The Label', a banshees wailing
In your depths of despair, the weak and the strong
In your gardens of Eden your towers of song

Copyright © peter walsh

Details | Rhyme | |

Ode to a Canary

His name was Mr Cinnamon
and he loved to sing.

Lost among the masses yet within the throng
he lifted his head and began a song.
Without thought the mass would open and part
the burdened would feel an uplifted heart.
The songs, each one, were simple and pure
and none could escape the magical allure
of the one who sang
the one who went
by such a simple name
He never fought
Girls flocked around him
He was humble
He only wanted one thing

His name was Mr Cinnamon
and he loved to sing

Copyright © Bonchance Longfall

Details | Lyric | |

Ode To "Survivor"

Another season of Survivor is almost at an end.
That there will be a "shocking twist", you can depend.
Jeff will be snarky, and the Jury, too.
"Why should we give a million dollars to YOU?"
"Let me explain why I'm the best player EVER!"
That is every remaining contestant's endeavor.
Immunity Challenge victories are a must to move on.
If you fail at those, you will likely be gone.
There will be strategizing all day, and conspiring all night.
With only 5 Castaways left, the end is in sight.
At the final Tribal Council, we will finally get to the vote.
But before it is read, Jeff will hop into a boat.
The suspense is nerve-wracking, who will win Survivor this season?
Will the Jury be vindictive, or vote with common sense and reason?
After Jeff reads the votes, the winner is announced live.
The audience erupts like a swarming beehive.
The time has now come for the "One Hour Live Reunion Show".
The questions begin; there's so much we want to know.
Were there any secret scandals, does everybody hate each other now?
Will Jeff get an amazed look on his face, and say surprisedly, "Wow!"?
Last but not least, we will get Previews for next season's show.
The anticipation is crescending, soon it will overflow.
Next thing you know, Survivor is over once again.
Soon, the emptiness and despair will descend.
How will we survive the next 2 months of our lives?
The trauma will surely make us all break out into hives!
Just when we think we can function no more,
And we're crying like babies down on the floor.
Right at the time when we begin to think that our spirits have been broken,
We hear the glorious words of Jeff, "The tribe has spoken!"!
Our spirits are renewed, Survivor is back one more time!
I can finally put an end to this silly rhyme!
Thursday nights will once again be the best.
We will find another favorite player, to whom our hearts will invest.
We will hope they form the right alliances and play the game smart.
To be voted out, would be a dagger to our hearts!
Survivor will live on, this thread will NEVER die!
When next season ends, we will once again cry.
The summer will be boring, we will be counting the days,
Until the Fall Season arrives with a new group of castaways.
If you read this entire poem, I am extremely impressed!
Survivor fans are truly the best!
I can't wait to join you, on the Survivor journey next year!
Until then, I wish you good luck and good cheer!

Copyright © Elizabeth Stanley

Details | Ode | |


It does not cast a shadow,
Nor does it judge, mimic, or belittle,
But it is full of emotion,
When expressed, time stands still,
Ubiquitous to society,
And inspired by nature,
More valuable than gold,
But cannot be spent,
More real than the stars,
But cannot be seen nor touched,
It can calm the most incorrigible of people,
And create passion in the most stoic souls,
It remains the same,
But is constantly changing,
And is older than life,
But will never age nor die,
To move by it is beautiful,
But to create it is a gift from God… 

Copyright © Ian Sylvester

Details | Lyric | |

Ode to Jennifer Nettles

Wow it seems just like yesterday
I sat there watching the CMA
The rest is history what can I say
An angel sang “Why don’t you stay”

She was raw and raucous as I ever heard
But all leaned forward to hear her words
She held us in her reaching palm
And she exploded like an atom bomb

Jennifer, Jennifer won’t you sing for me
I’ll write you a song like none could ever be
I know you write the words you sing
And you really don’t need my fling

However I am just an old man with a silly dream
You can make it happen… or so it really seems
You should hear my words coming from up above
Like the ones sent me about the “Garden of Love”

I think you would find it really very prime
However Steve Earle didn’t write it, it is mine
And I am already married my kids are quite tall
Also when it rains I often slip and fall

If nothing else I hope this gives you a smile
Stranger things have happened 
You know every once in a while
It doesn’t hurt to dream, not by a country mile.

So Jennifer, Jennifer consider an old man’s plea
What the heck it can’t hurt to talk a while with me
It might even climb all the way to number one
Let the world hear the Garden of love, basking in your sun 

Wow it seems just like yesterday
I sat there watching the CMA
The rest is history what can I say
An angel sang “Why don’t you stay”

Copyright © Gregory Cox

Details | Cowboy | |

Ode to the Cowboy Yodeler

One Day I was listening to an old Cowboy song
My boots began to tapping & I began to sing along
A Cowgirl stepped to the mic & as she began to sing
It sounded like a falsetto auctioneer pulling vowels out on a string

I perked my ears & listened, it didnt seem that hard
If I could learn to yodel, I'd be a Cowgirl Superstar
So I warmed up & just let loose
Was that the call of a lovesick moose?

So I adjusted my pitch, had my stance down pat
Just as I began to yodel, I swear someone stepped on a cat
I struggled on through most of the day trying to warble & trill
And If I'd not sprained my tonsils & tongue, I'd be at it still

Let's hear it for the Cowboy Yodeler, Head & shoulders above the rest
For in mastering the yodel, you surely passed the test
I only have one question, I'd really like to know
Why they sing about her & where did the little old lady go? 

Copyright © Catherine Devine

Details | Ode | |


It's hard really; To describe you in one word, But if I had to, you'd be my Best friend. Maybe that counts as two words; So I'll try again, You are my Everything. But that still doesn't give you justice, you're always there for me when I need you You forgave me when I was horrible to you, And I owe you everything, Yet I can't tell you My simple feelings. Your laugh, voice, are like a melody of angel harks, Your eyes are like smooth chocolate and honey. You have a smile that lights my darkened soul; And if only there was a song I could send your way, But the best song is the one from my heart, However, that song is continually writing As long as you are in my life, it will alwayas be writing, Because you are; my light, my gardian angel my everything. my life my hope my peace my strength...

Copyright © Rebecca Larkin

Details | I do not know? | |



Cruel God’s crooked clasp,
Is worse than the sting of a wasp,
Genius, healthy, wealthy man,
Becomes an orphan and forlorn!

Childhood innocent,
Youth fragrant,
Tranquil prime,
Become a weird dream!

Defies God’s clout,
Becomes fear-less ‘n’ stout,
Undertakes an uphill task,
And reaches the mountaintop!

Handicapped albeit,
Dares God’s verdict,
Proves the worth by his action,
He is worthy of admiration!! 

Copyright © Dr.Hemant Vinze

Details | Ode | |

Will You Be There?

(In Memory of Micheal Jackson)
  (For All of his fans)
I know My leaving you,
doesn't seem fair
Probably, even gave you 
a real good scare
Left you with a hurt, to which
none could compare
But, I am, in the Spirit, Every-
Who roams freely, about the
While awaiting your Arrival, a-
top the golden stair
In heaven, with the clouds moving
through My hair
As I hang out, at those pearly-gates,

Copyright © Karin Edwards

Details | Ode | |

A Soldier's Song

Sing, your favorite song slowly as it plays.
Dance, to that sweet melody as your body sways.
Transpose, each word as it reaches your heart.
Recall, all the memories tender, that never part.

What will we do when all the songs have been sung?
What emotion will we possess, when every tragic war has been won?
Will we stare sadly into each others eyes, and watch painfully tears go by?
Or, will we hold each other tight and simply sigh?

Can you conceive your favorite song, never to be?
Can you truly preceive the day when there are no more wars, threating us to be free?
Love would be felt in music, as our lonely hearts would recall.
Cold wars are still being fought causing death, as we stain their city walls.

Will our hearts remember rhythm?  When all the songs have been sung.
What conflict will be fought, when all the wars have been won?
Without wars, lonely soildiers hearts will sing in gladness.
Without song, our souls, hearts, and minds would sink into madness.

Gladly, sing your favorite song slowly, as it plays.
Let that sweet melody consume you, as your body sways.
Transpose, each word as it reaches your heart.
Recalling, all the cold wars, that man should never start.

Copyright © Nell Bolden

Details | Ode | |

The Poet Within

For you starless nights stretch out 
      and scare away the morn

And yet it's you who tint and tinge, 
      who paint and adorn

Every thread and strand that you stitch 
      and loop with the years

Into the fine fabric of Life, Love, 
      Death, it appears...

      As you daydream nights at the seam
            of a seamless shore

      Sketching the now and tomorrow,
            spinning yarns of yore

      Beneath borderless horizons
            of  the ocean skies

      Till love knows no more your heart, 
            till sight disowns your eyes.

Copyright © romeo naces

Details | Ode | |

If You Love Him, Do Not Cry

(For Oliver, who made this statement) (in reference to M.J.)

If You Love Him. Do
Not Cry
Think of him often,but
hold your head, up high
Despite, it hurts, that you
couldn't say: goodbye
Because, We all, at some
point, are going to die
Whether or not, made known
is the reason why
Since, it's the Lord's preroga-
tive, in Our lives to pry
So, you Need not worry, about
his being given Wings to fly
If, He'll be waiting there, for Us,
in the sky

Copyright © Karin Edwards