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Age Song Poems | Age Poems About Song

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

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Details | Free verse | |

Star Song

Even if this life ends one day, 
Don't worry for me, I'll be here. 
Don't cry, it breaks the heart, 
That I no longer have. 

We used to walk across the bridge all day, 
Simply laughing along, sing a few songs.
That day seemed to come to soon, like it was a coincidence, 
Right as I pulled out a new song for us to enjoy. 

Standing up, looking out to the sunset, 
I sang the first verse, 
"When I pass away, will we still be connected?
When I pass over the stars, will your warmth be there?" 

As if the time was too short, it had come to this, 
Even now, my spirit seems to feel the same pain as then, 
When I fell over onto the ground, 
The same familiar pain in my heart. 

Now it's come to this, laying in a hospital bed, 
And I can't seem to speak to you.
I forcefully rip off the mask, just to say
"I love you." 

Even now, when my spirit is all that remains of what I have left,
I promise she will still be there for you, in my place for now,
Because when we meet again someday, we can laugh,
And finish that one song that we started that day.  

Copyright © Unfragment Broken

Details | Free verse | |

Last Sonnet



Hither I stand, at crossroads,
And then I gaze, at the yonder end-
The vague horizon from where I began;
And all that I may ever deem
Is that- my days
Have been a waken dream.

Hither I stand, at the edge of my dream;
Then I wonder, at the depth of my trance-
An adventurous journey through the wondrous woods;
An idyllic stroll through the vicissitudinous meadow;
And from the final station as I depart,
All that I can ever say, is that
Perpetuation has been a rouge
Of fleeting phases of my life.


Suyash Saxena 
St. Stephen’s College.

Copyright © Suyash Saxena

Details | Ballad | |

Anwnn

Coming from the misty lake Lough Leane
Came a beautiful maiden of the name of Niamh
Upon a mare, for she is not from the world of man
A seraphic princess from Anwnn
Upon the shores she claimed around his kin
"I have came for Oisin son of Finn"
"Maiden you come to me so alluringly 
I am he, if we marry for all eternity!"

And so he rode upon her horse to the secrets of Anwnn
For he and she, they'd be happy for all eternity 

Come with me to Anwnn
I am she, your queen Niamh
I have come for you Oisin, son of Finn
Don't leave me or you'll see 
The age of man
The age of man
The age of man

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen

Details | Free verse | |

Logic's Song

          I once saw an old man with hair 
          the color of snow and in his hand,
          He held two circulates of gold.

          I asked the man what the rings
          were for.
          One, He said, is for the Young
          and the other for the Old.

          With questioning eyes, I looked
          upon and as He explained,
          I heard logic's song.

         An in conclusive reasoning, He said
         and then a comforting smile,
         He gave, as He continued to say.

         (The Young) " The  heavy bodies 
         descend by gravity and again the
         gravity is quality; Whereby a heavy
         descends is an impertinent circle and
         teaches nothing.
         Meaning: The Journey Onward.

         (The Old) " A circle which touches 
         the curve and close to the point more
         nearly coincides with the curve than
         hence is called; Circe of curvation.
         Meaning: Coming Into Full Circle.

         An unofficial association of people, I said
         but the smart set goes there.

         It's simple my Dear, He said;
         A plane curve generated by one point
         moving at a constant distance from a
         fixed point, (The Young & The Old).

         As He calculated the circumference of the
         circle, again He spoke.
         Every part of which is equally distant from
         a point within it, is called: The Center, The Soul.

         He spoke in logic in which I had never heard spoken.
         A conclusion of a form of argument between two
         or more unproved statements that in the end, prove
         each other as one.

         Alpha, Omega, The beginning and the ending,
         a circulate of gold. The Young and The Old.
     

Copyright © Sharon Gulley

Details | Elegy | |

november song

November Song 

No suitor knocks on her door
her hair is white and uncombed 
children think she is witch.

Once she had been the belle of
the royal ball, spurned lovers
in her perfumed air.

Old age came creeping, first 
slowly than rapidly… and know
she is quite forgotten.  

Copyright © jan oskar hansen

Details | Rhyme | |

See The Old Man Thomas

See the Old Man Thomas
As he burns his brain 
With a glimmering glass
And a ratteling chain
Behind white horses
In a New York bar
Between a setting sun
And a falling star

No use in raging 
Over dying light
Old Thomas won't
But the young men might
He will go gently 
Into the black
Just stumble ahead
And never look back

See the Old Man Thomas 
- wild and gray
He bought nothing 
- but he had to pay
Lets bury him down 
In sand and clay
Say a quick prayer 
And be on our way

In the heavy traffic 
In the crowded street
In the dark cafes 
Where lovers meet
Old Thomas walk
Up around the bends
Where silence sings
And music ends

We'll have fun
At his funeral soon
Dance all night
By the bright blue moon
We'll read his poems
For old time's sake
And sing at the grave
And sleep at the wake

See the Old Man Thomas 
- wild and gray
His whole life happend 
- yesterday
Lets bury him down 
In sand and clay
Say a quick prayer 
And be on our way

The Old Man Thomas
Is gone for sure
One last drink
Then he closed the door
No new words 
From his drunken pen
And nobody knows
If we'll meet again

Copyright © Steinar Gismeroy Olafsen

Details | Rhyme | |

You are

You are a star that changed my life from dim to 
light
A queen who captivates hearts in the kingdom of 
beauty
You made me think about you all day and night
Being your servant for the rest of life is my holy 
duty

You are a talented archer and I am your victim
I failed to escape your arrows that made me fall in 
love
Though they hit me , they brought me nothing but 
vim
As on seeing your face , I feel being in the heaven 
above

Maybe these arrows killed me and that power is 
fake
As on being a martyr of love , life and death are the 
same
Maybe it's a long dream and I don't want to be 
awake
I feel I am a child who is attracted to an 
entartaining game

You are a curse from satan , No you are a divine 
bless
I don't know , but because of you , I am in a 
wonderful mess

By: A. Badr

Copyright © Ahmed badr

Details | Free verse | |

clocks that picture time

these days you barely see
the colors of people as they are 
tomorrow looms 
in places that i can't be

still i wonder will it all fall down 

these days you're either right or wrong
sit back on ease and find rhythm to a song
running on e and i'm almost there
thinking maybe we'll make it
hell, we're almost there

still i wonder will it all fall down

these days it's you or me 
i can picture 
the things you're left to say
winters calling 
and the darkness is sinking this day

still i wonder will it all fall down

these days you're either right or wrong 
calling forgiveness it's either you or me 
tomorrow turns in places that i can't be 
the color's of people you barely see 

"maybe i'll see you when you get there"

Copyright © Jerry Golden

Details | Light Poetry | |

Initial Eastern Song


JUST one
staring at the bottom, so clear,
want to know the deal
why this squeal?
ha, the girl on the glass screen.
I acquaint with the hasty hearts' beat
'my expresso is bitter sweet'
I sing for you: black pearl
on my lips don’t leap 
...

Copyright © Kanour Med

Details | Free verse | |

butterfly shutters

i feel down like this 
your the only one
who can break this curse
don't you ever feel 

oh i feel down like this

life is beautiful 
the piano leads me on 
seemingly touched by strays 
sunlight frees my rage 

well i feel stepped on now 
sometimes life is rough
i feel done with this 
cause i feel down like this 

oh i feel down like this 

life is so compressed 
i need you right now 
don't you ever forget 
i fell down like this 

sunlight cures my eyes 
when i feel down like this 
and your the only one 
don't you ever feel

"we take chances until chances take us away"

Copyright © Jerry Golden

Details | Free verse | |

Spinning Song

I look around 
And see everything here is changing. 
The homes, economy,  clothing, 
It’s moving on. 
I wish it would stay the same. 

They say it’s changing for the good, 
But there are so many wrongs to it. 
Crime, anger is lit
In the hearts of men and women alike. 
If only we could have stayed the same. 

In this short time, we continue on, 
Replaying our lives. 
The young baby cries, 
And the old person gives a last breath. 
It’s never the same anymore. 

The old are swept off  
By the calm under their feet. 
Taking steps on with beat, 
Onto a new place that promises more. 
If only I could go there, to be the same. 

Children are remaining 
With memories that survive. 
They wake and revive, 
Starting another morning. 
If only that was the same for me. 

Our memories of old and new
Are spun into two spirals,
Then fade away, and unravels. 
This is how it goes on, 
Like a ribbon, changing formation. 

As for me, 
I sing this song. 
I want to change all wrong, 
But nothing can change with one person. 
I know I could never do so much. 

But I will 
Sing for as long as I can. 
Though this song cannot change man, 
I will try and do my part in the world. 
I can do anything if I try. 

I remember what happened
When I pass on to the next place, 
But it’s engraved in this empty space, 
In my heart, 
So please let me through.

Copyright © Oliver Carris

Details | Rhyme | |

My Song

"My Song"


My song is like a bird who cannot sing
 It cannot fly because of its broken wing
 The notes come softly down on the ground
 When they hit you do not hear a sound
 Someone so broken, and so true
 Can make you just turn so blue
 So just this once hold her tight
 Then she might start to go back on her flight

Copyright © Courtney Vinch

Details | Free verse | |

Cicadas' Song

A fine-spun shell clings to the weed 
my arthritic fingers yank from soil 
of the same drab tinge.

My ears ring 
with the constant humm-m-m—
insistent joy—familiar music 
from thirteen years past.

Invisible cicadas sing as they mate,
unaware of their fate, 
unconcerned with the weight of time,
			
while my work-worn joints
made me painfully aware of mine.

Copyright © Cona Adams

Details | I do not know? | |

Abortion at seventeen

Abortion at seventeen 
=
The shades of black within you surface
before you lose consciousness on the 
sanitized bed of the hospital.
No friendly face is waiting outside.
Your age is seventeen… almost.
This is the age of the quick use and throw.
The shades of black make you take an oath, 
just before sleep, medicated sleep,  
that you won’t attach yourself to
anyone for long. You are cured
from romances, immune from love.

These are the words that belong to past, 
I urge to tell more to see if tears 
are going to make you less of a goddess 
which I think you actually are.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar 

Copyright © Kushal Poddar

Details | Chant Royal | |

DAWN,S OFFSPRING

Showers of a thousand springs.
Nightfall and its queer needs.
A lovely maiden in a crystal ball.
We see the future, we see it all.


A bottle of jar with lemon crust.
A touch of us in earthly dust.
Beauty and virtue bore along.
Fine wheat, no famine is wrong.


My dream girl, my reality shivers
An empty heart, with love spots on my quiver.
I escape this solitude for a better morning.
The weather is fine, would you love me only for the money?


I ponder deep till I stop but yonder.
Is this emotion a burden or an aching joy.
My thoughts for you as innocent as a toddler.
I am man yet, I recollect not being a boy.

Copyright © abidemi oyewole

Details | I do not know? | |

The Gift of Song

We are all prisoners at one time or another in our lives-Imprisoned in our minds imprisoned 
by the dictates of our environment; by the expectations of our society, etc.
Yet, we survive. Through it all, hope and our deep, enduring faith in our God keeps us alive 
from generation to generation.

It’s the year 1835, and there she stands on a rickety wooden platform
Where countless before her had stood desolate and dejected
She looked disheveled in an old cotton dress
Two sizes too big for her tiny frame
Her tattered boots caked with mud from the stall
Where livestock was kept for the market 
A large crowd of men and women had gathered

A river of faces were in view yet not one was familiar 
None similar to hers in sight except for the lonely
Carriage driver sitting upright and seemingly unconcerned with 
The situation playing out less than ten feet away from him
At the age of twelve when girls her age were at play
Here she was stands on an auction block
Awaiting her fate, to be re-sold for a purse full of coins

These faces in the crowd leer at her and she feels like a freak
Hunger and pain gnaw at her belly and mind
Her body trembles in fear and she feels a chill though it’s summer
Hot tears stream down her smooth black cheeks
Wishing her Mama was here. “Where are you, Mama?” 
In silence she cries deep within, and her thoughts are interrupted 
By the crack of the whip that cuts body and soul!

Pt. II contn’d

Copyright © Annalise a.k.a. Audrey Haick

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Black Swan Love Song


     BLACK SWAN SINGING…LOVE

There is an itching in my heart
I cannot scratch---
A raging rash ravaging through
The depth of my soul
A burning fire in my spirit
I cannot control
A teasing urging of mind 
Challenging the body to match;

As nature would have it
The winter of age has its season
That last for a while
Teaching the wisdom of her reason
Why spring comes with a smile:

 Bringing vigor to the tree,
 Moisture to the nest;
 With her eau de vie---
 Renewing old interest---

So when you hear the black swan singing
Its cooing song,
Know that love is about to run like a river
Meandering on;

Oh what a wonderful spring thing:
Arrows of silver for the golden quiver!

Copyright © millard lowe

Details | Haiku | |

Our Favourite Song

Warm feelings wash over
Memories, love caressing
Transported away

Copyright © Ian Jones

Details | Cowboy | |

Sing Me a Song

Sing Me a Song

Oh, sing me a song of cows and campfires
And dream back to those days that are long past;
Of empty bunkhouse and tall mountain spires,
Of old west ghost towns and things that won't last.

Think back to trail drives and prairie house sod
And sing me a tune of lost western lore;
Of thunder stampede and starlight of God,
Of worn-out saddles and what comes no more.

Oh, listen now will you, to times gone by--
Low singing round fires with voice soft and sure;
Hear with stone ears of that which makes us cry:  
Old times flown by and the days that were pure.

Sing again now as we head up that hill,
Soak in the horn moon of deep starry night;
The horses are mute but drink up their fill--
Our past is forever and dark is light.

Copyright © Glen Enloe

Details | Rhyme | |

What's Coming Next

Faces of clocks have been turned around
As I drift from this ol' country town.
     The last of the signs
     Disappear from my mind
And the autumn rains start to come down.

It was once on a night just like this,
Felt the touch of a soft, tender kiss;
     In the ages gone by
     Caught a tear in the eye
Wond'ring what it all was that I'd missed.

I remember the laughter and games
But I cannot recall all the names.
     We played with the truth
     Through the wonders of youth,
But tomorrow we'd not feel the same.
No, tomorrow we'd not feel the same.

There are mountains that we'll never climb
While the heart steals the beats of our time.
     The lines on my face
     Feel so far out of place,
Just like footprints that I've left behind.

Now there's too many been laid to rest
For the reasons not meant to be guessed.
     But since they've been gone
     Life's kept rolling along,
And no one can say what's coming next.
No, no one can say what's coming next.

Copyright © Daniel Larson