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Wife Death Poems | Death Poems About Wife

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

Details | Concrete | |

BrokenHeart

..................   L  I                                  L  O
                Y            F                       Y             V                         
           M         H        E                M        G           E                
       F   O   R   E  V  E  R             E   T   E   R  N    A   L                    
     L     E    N    O    R    E          L     E    N    O    R     E
  E   N   T   W   I   N   E   D       E   N   T   W   I  N   E   D
 Always  with  my HearT  I         Always with true Feeling
Love You, my Dearest WIFE        ALWAYS with Emotions
My  Love grows like an oak        My  Heart beats for YOU
Mighty  and E v e r l a s t I n g       MY  TEARS  are  Real 
 YOU  are  M Y  STRENGTH         Yet My Heart still Aches
  FOR YOU LIVE in  ME            Though You live with GOD
   ETERNAL  B L I S S        YOU wear the gown of Angels
     INFINITE  P U R E        YOU carry my Heart in Yours
       You grow in my heart     EACH  and   EVERY   Day 
         The LOVE grows and   I am at  Peace KNOWING
            As  LOVE  Grows          In my  BROKEN Heart 
              Constantly Knitting        cracks and Fissures
                My  Dearest Beloved    Tenderly  Mended
                    Repairing Loneliness   My Wife Lenore
                       Angelically Smiles   Eternally Loved
                          MY Only Most        B E L O V E D
                              L  I  F  E        L  E  N  O  R  E
                                  Always      F O R E V E R
                                      YOU    My  Heartbeat
                                          Are   My   S O U L
                                              MY      W I F E
                                                One  Breath
                                                    N e v e r
                                                      Alone
                                                      YOU
                                                       And
                                                          I


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

God Gave You a Second Chance

God Gave You a Second Chance
 Not ready to leave this world with unfinished business determining the souls color; you’re on borrowed time! Prayers to heaven and words spoken from the heart brought perspective to what time remained. Fear and regret knowing this may be the end brought us closer than before. Always by your side loving, giving freely would now perhaps help spare your life adding color to your heart and soul.
The soul colored with Hope, Faith, and Love, the greatest being Love! I wonder have you given God what was expected for a second chance at life to color your heart and soul. Color determines the hearts purity and the soul’s condition. 
Souls are empty without love in the purest form; if you do not receive and give without fear, shame, or doubt!  From the outside looking in many colors of love surround your soul. I pray the love I give you understand the colors surrounding my heart and soul.
Love was holding you when death looked you in the face and love put death on hold! God and I give you Love. How do you face life and death now, with a heart and soul of vivid colors nourished by our love? God blessed us and we know what matters most. You now live your bucket list, God’s too.
Your list will end, mine too. Sharing with a loved one brings special meaning, understanding, and allows comfort taking away fear, pain, and panic. With unconditional love all’s shared. Colors of the soul glow, angels gather, and God gently lifts one unto himself. The guardian angels exit; slowly colors fade, a feeling passes the one left behind as the end has come. I imagine the colors of love in the heart and soul.
                                                                                                                                                             Debbie Knapp
		


Details | Didactic | |

Speak of thee

                                        He is above us in the clouds 
                                run through the fields and speak of thee
                                              He will grow roses

                                       I will be the stem of the roses 
                                       for I shall never leave your soil

                                     You will be the tree I grow beneath 
                                             and he will be our rain.


Details | Rhyme | |

Forever Love

They sit out on the front porch,
with the grand-kids running  bout
As they rock back and forth,
they're still in love without a doubt
Many years they've had together
each one the other's friend
Their hearts are joined forever
though life, is at it's end
Beyond the age and wrinkles
they're still young and carefree
Hearts so full and happy
as the never-ending sea
Eyes still hold the flames
that have burned from long ago
Hand in hand they smile,
as they're rocking to and fro
His touch still warm and gentle,
he beholds his angel's face
The words so soft and fragile,
"I will always love you Grace"
Her hand he gently squeezes, 
and in an instant he is gone
She looks at the empty chair
that still keeps rocking strong
Sitting there alone,
she sheds a single tear
For many years he's been away
and now, her own end is near
A gentle breeze begins to blow
she feels his fingers through her hair
The time has come to re-unite
and finally leave this rocking chair
Bravely, she takes one last breath,
her lonely days now gone
No more to part from her true love,
together.....they live on


Details | Haiku | |

Texas Wildflower Haiku : Widow's Tears

sun’s heat sunders sand
clustered lanced leaves green hug
widow’s tears collapse

Widow’s Tears is the common name for Commelina erecta var. angustifolia, they bloom on 
Texas beaches in sand or clay, and have the characteristic of flowering early in the morning 
and fading by noon. The bloom in all seasons but I chose spring to be more commonly 
approachable. [1]

[1] Wildflowers and Other Plants of Texas Beaches and Islands, Alfred Richardson


Details | Couplet | |

Missing You

I look across the bed… you’re not there… you’re dead.
I look across the bed and see…you’re no longer next to me.

I reach over and try to feel your skin,
and remember all the joy there had been…

but my hands come back empty…trying desperately to hold on,
barely clinging to life now that your gone.

And I let out a cry I’m quite sure heaven hears,
Or will it linger in limbo for all of my years.

How lonely this bed, where imprisoned I lay.
How long can I take this day after day?

They say that in spirit your right next to me.
But that is no comfort for it’s blackness I see.

They say that it’s time to move on with my life,
But they have no clue of my pain and my strife.

You were my best friend, my angel, my love,
You were hand picked for me from above.

You were the one who’s soul I adored
Whatever I did you were there to applaud.

You alone knew me inside and out,
And the love that we shared left no one to doubt.

For you were my angel sent from above,
To care for, to lean on, to cherish and love…..

So I’ll go back to bed where imprisoned I lay,
And hope for a joy that visits someday.


Details | Dizain | |

Prolonged Exposure

I’ve covered the mirrors in our house
With colored sheets, while choking on grief
Black, blue, and green, to my bewildered spouse
Who has wondered what has become of me
And why suddenly I’ve begun mourning

He thinks that I’m a reflection of him
So he doesn’t notice the wounds within
The marring of my spirit’s complexion
Permanent, from his reoccurring sins
That have shaped me into his perfection

My face is clear so you would never guess
That person staring back isn’t me
Mirrors can’t show underlying distress
Only the lie he wants others to see
Not the despair slowly growing, steeping

Don’t look bewildered at my draping sheets
If you look, the nude is there, underneath
Reflecting the lie that it has become
Prolonged exposure to fisting complete
Now mourning the death of someone it loved


5/8-5/9/12
For "Your Birthday Suit" Contest


Details | Rhyme | |

Pal

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,
Bob 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 grave, 
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.”


Details | Couplet | |

Breathes of Souls

The night grows heavy as the bells do toll,
And tears will fall, all will behold.

As deep in Gods earth is laid to rest half a soul
Once entwined and beautifully blessed.

Now those left behind will cry out with envy,
For the peace of ages the lost holds so clearly.

Those hearts left behind will cry out with the cold
As bittersweet memories circle of old.

Emblazoned images circle of walks once walked,
As the other half now goes with God to talk.

Hearts do tremble with sadness that once knew love,
As time stretches, a lonely run begun.

Time will carry forth until the other flies free
Dispatched by deaths angel to soar with the breeze.

Then those dispatched by deaths’ grim thoughts will unite
Together to find peace at last.

As the breathes of two souls will heal and hold fast,
And love will again hold them close, at last.


Details | Rhyme | |

Amber Liquid

Life without her soldier lover
Years in which she’ll not recover
From the news she got today
That her husband’s MIA
Not a trace of wreckage found
Just a note – his plane’s gone down
Now she’ll raise the kids alone
In a house not quite a home
Her husband just a memory
In her life that used to be
With ample amber liquid yet
She’ll try her best then to forget


Details | I do not know? | |

Today Is Terrible----

The cracked spine of
the book I dropped
at the call.
A chip in my
windshield left by a
pompous *?#@! in a
red sports car as I
drive to the
service.
Rain expectorating
from an ashen sky as
the dirt is turned.
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
crack in grandma’s
spine from her fall
down the stairs.
The chip in her
amazingly smart mind
after eighteen years
as a teacher.
Tears running,
dripping from my
Mothers ashen face
as she cries “My
mama’s dead.”
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
cracked family
emotions left raw
and empty.
The chip in Grandpas
numb mind at the
gathering… “Where is
Irene she should be
here?”
Faces gone ashen
with dread, do we
leave him numb or
remind him that his
wife is dead?
Today is terrible.
Though this is less
terrible than the
empty silences,
missing the jokes
Grandma used to
crack.
Grandma’s laugh and
her endless smile
which always exposed
that tooth with the
chip in it.
Without her the
world has become
empty, bleak, and
ashen.
Today is terrible.

                   
                   
                   
          Summer
Gratias


Details | Narrative | |

Death Of The Saints

A cousin called the other day saying "Another cousin has passed away".

Well my husband said "How old was she.""

"Ninety-eight".

A stalwart woman who had served family and community well. Producing one child that 
became a missionary serving in a foreign land..

While talking the cousin asked "Did you know ______"?

My husband answered, "Well, I don't think that I knew them".

The cousin proceeded to tale this story.

"The man had been down with cancer for a while and passed recently..The funeral had been 
conducted and the hearse had gone on to the cemetary..The family car with the family was 
not to far behind..But when it pulled up, the wife of the deceased did not get out and the 
funeral home staff was gathering around..The funeral home director decided to go see what 
was going on ...."

The cousin said, " That this funeral home director told him". "That he had been in this 
business for thirty-five years and faced something that he had never had happen to him or 
any other funeral home director that he knew."

The funeral home director said, "When I got to the family car, I found the wife of the 
deceased had passed from a massive corornary."

She had said, "I don't know how I will live without him." She didn't have to learn. God called 
her home..

The roosters crow, the crows craw and are answered by the gobble of the turkey across the 
way..


Details | Free verse | |

My Bride of the Black Dress

My bride of the black dress,
Come to me my dear,
Take my hand and kiss me,
My beloved bride,
Soon the wedding will start,
And we shall be wed,
Now wait for me,
Wait for me,
My love is never ending,
Your deathly white skin,
And boney arms are beautiful to me,
So wait for me my bride,
I shall join you soon enough,
But first let me remove this dagger from your heart,
My beautiful bride of the black dress,
Our heaven awaits.


Details | Rhyme | |

anniversary

this is inspired by a picture of a guy looking at a piece of bread with one candle 
on it,  http://allpoetry.com/amyrowsell

today would be our first wedding anniversary
but I lost her, a month ago
a guy was driving drunk and crossed the line
that night he took the life of mine
you think that they would learn 
driving is a privilege you have to earn
I hate him for what he has done 
he took away a mother from me and our young son
nobody wins when people drive drunk 


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

I snapped

(This is a fictional poem)

I've never been happy because I've endured one tragedy after another.
It began at the age of six when I lost my father and mother.
Three years ago my wife blew her brains out right in front of me.
That's probably going to be the most horrifying thing I'll ever see.
I had a bad breakdown after her death and life was very grim.
My kids were taken from me because I could no longer take care of them.
Two years ago I snapped when I went to a diner with a gun.
I opened fire and when I was finished, I had killed everyone.
Now I'm in an insane asylum and I'm wasting away.
I'll rot in here for the rest of my days.


Details | Rhyme | |

Crystal Tears

Every night she prayed for something
To make a change in her life
Knowing when he came home again
He would claim her as his wife
 
She had to do as he wanted
Never dared to refuse
Knowing that would only get her
Another painful bruise
 
Her silent tears fell like crystals
From a broken chandelier
She screamed, but only in her mind
So he could never hear
 
Those terrible years ended for her
When he was driving like a fool
He was so drunk he missed his turn
And drowned in the neighbor's pool
 
That night:
 
Her joyful tears sparkled like crystals
On a golden chandelier
She laughed out loud, not caring
If the whole, wide world could hear. 


Details | Free verse | |

The Loss of a Farmer of Man

The rivers of life are most dear to those with young.
These rivers supply life, ensuring the survival of what is most precious.
It is when the river runs dry; the last drops of liquid are tears...
Tears of all that is lost.

The fertile soil soon dries and becomes barren.
The efforts of man are unable to save the farm.
This farmer... a farmer for man... lost what is most dear.
His vision for the future has died.

The farm itself screams in pain as the river flows away.
Her life is leaving and she is unable to save what grows beneath.
What is most dear to the farm is dying.
Her life, everything she wanted... now stripped from her.

Such farms all have a gate that closes them to the rest of the world.
As the farmer stands staring at the sign above the farm... remembering that night.
He came from no where with no reason... stabbing his wife in her stomach and 
heart.
His memory, while staring at the sign..."Here lies both a loving wife and future 
mother."


Details | Verse | |

I'm Going Home

,

Lord thank you for this life,
As I have lived a full life,
It was not always as I would have like,
But I lived it to the best of what I could,
I’m going home; Home to the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me,
I have been a long weary believer, 
As I’ve been away to long,
I now know what I’ve been searching for, 
As He's been there in me all along,
I’m going home; Home is the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me,
I have been and seen lots of places in life’s journey,
Now I yearn for familiar faces in familiar places,
I hear familiar voices calling me to come home, 
I see familiar faces looking at me,
I’m going home; Home is the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me,
My time is near, the hour I know not,
I see Jesus' face across the Heaven’s,
I hear His soft sweet voice calling me home,
 I can’t wait for my real life to begin,
I’m going home; Home is the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me.

By; Rev. Samuel and Esta Mack, OMS
Copyright 2011

VISIT US AT: http:paladinnews1.blogspot.com


Details | Elegy | |

The Lament For an Angel

All in one faded-black day (but let None forget) In my arms, her body lay (my life was the price to pay) A tragedy, through the lack of humanly shame (do they know pain) My darkly colleen has to suffer no more (Robert nor do you) Let me die (please hear my haunted cries) If I can not see Sophie tonight (live on with my grey) I'm just a mess of despairing words And broken nerves Another mourning, afflicted sight (through decay, love can remain) Solace, sympathy are just more lies She is all I need Until you decide she is just another sadist's toy My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away My Angel, just let one feather stay My Angel has flown away My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away My Angel, just let one feather stay My Angel has flown away (My body is amortal, die I may, Together, our hearts will forever stay)


Details | Epitaph | |

The Perfect Woman

The Perfect Woman

“She loved me- she loved me not” 
And she sung “Stand by Your Man”
When the moment was right 
She would wiggle a bit  
Taking my manly hand
Of course she could cook
 I married her biscuits
 I did I did I did
The perfect women the one I married
Her voice no longer gets mad 


Details | Bio | |

Jessica McCord: Selfish Assassin

It was February 2002 (WWF Raw, WWF SmackDown!, and WWF No Way Out), that Jessica McCord and her then-husband, Jeff, killed Alan Bates and his new wife, Terra. Before their deaths, Alan "A.B." was in a custody battle against his ex-wife to have determined who'll have gotten full custody of their two daughters (born in 1990 and '92). The custody hearing might have taken place in November 2001 (WWF Raw, WWF SmackDown!, WWF Rebellion, and WWF Survivor Series), but not until December 2001 (WWF Raw, WWF SmackDown!, and WWF Vengeance), when the lady had spent that time in jail for skipping custody hearings more than twice. It seems that Jessica had disapproved of both of her daughters having the late Terra for their step-mother. the only two things that describes Jessica McCord are selfish and a coward. She selfishly pulled both of her daughters out of their respective schools, she hid them away so that her late ex-husband couldn't gain full access to them, and/or whatever. So, the fact that Jessica McCord had used her own daughters as a pair of pawns as if she's been playing a game of chess had made the late Mr. Bates, the attorneys, and Birmingham Police officers of Birmingham, Alabama, very sick. The lady, Jessica, was afraid that the judge would grant Alan and his new wife, Terra, full custody of the girls, so she and Jeff killed them; thereby dumping both of their bodies in a burned-down car outside Atlanta, Georgia (aka Hotlanta, aka Dirty South, and aka ATL). Jessica McCord may have tried to label her late ex-husband as a bad guy, but no one bought it, not even her in-laws, the prosecutors, and the judge. She knew that she and her husband were going to get caught; they knew it. And where is Jessica McCord as of February 2003 (WWE Raw, WWE SmackDown!, and WWE No Way Out/World Wrestling Entertainment's first 'No Way Out' pay-per-view event, ever)? She's in prison, along with her then-loser husband, Jeff McCord, serving a life sentence in prison with no possibility of parole. Ms. McCord should've gotten the death penalty, but that's the way the law works. And as far as the Bates family, the entire community of Birmingham, and the two daughters are concerned, prison is exactly where they belong. Well, it looks like the ghosts of Alan and Terra Bates will be haunting the two-then McCords for life. Let's hope that the Bates sisters don't suffer the same fate their father and step-mother did. And if I see the Bates sisters in person, there's just no telling.


Details | Alliteration | |

My Love

My love I can not find you anywhere, 
I feel like I lost my soul somewhere, 
because you are my soulmate, 
and us being apart can not be fate. 

You did not leave because you wanted to, 
It just was just something you had to do. 

I was not right, All I wanted to do was fight, 
and knowing you was the love of my life, 
yet I would not make you my wife. 

I know that's what you really wanted 
and now I am feeling haunted, 
by the things I should have done, 
and you being the only one 
I ever loved and will love forever, if it was'nt for me we will still be together. 
 
But you are gone 
and I can not go on, 
so I must say good-bye, I'm leaving myself to die.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)






Details | Rhyme | |

A Tempting Fate

(Inspired by the humorous short story, "Angel Of The Odd", by Edgar Allan Poe.)



This young man had just been visiting his mother,
His wife disapproved of spending his time with another,
He grabbed his coat and hat, but not an umbrella,
For, he was quite an unwise and careless fella.

The rain began to pour with thunder and lightning,
This foolish man did not find it a bit frightening,
He was looking forward to a warm hug and a kiss,
Although, it was her cooking that he really did miss.

He quickly jumped over puddles and leapt the gate,
But, little did he know, that he was tempting fate,
He knocked and pounded his fist on the front door,
The house remained dark, though it never was before.

Now, all that he needed to do was simply unlock it,
But, he found the key was no longer in his pocket,
He picked up a rock and shattered the window pane,
It didn't matter to him, if he disturbed their entire lane.

He cooked and ate his dinner, now he wanted dessert,
In his mind he thought, what could one more bite hurt?,
The young man could not silence the feeling to crave,
Yet, that is what would put him right into the grave.

His wife's specialty was a heavenly, angel food cake,
And, into this one, a secret ingredient, she did bake,
A drop of deadly poison to keep her husband at home,
For, she never liked the idea of being left all alone.

He was very much in love with this pretty, young baker,
Yet, she had planned a date with the local undertaker,
Her selfish plans to tempt him, had worked all too well,
His new home, six feet under, is now where he would dwell.




Written February, 27th, 2014  For Craig Cornish's contest - "Angel Of The Odd"


Details | Free verse | |

Overheard - A Heavenly Conversation - Part 2

Well, Father, he is a bit like ; Like Thomas, Yet he’s not even sure of his Doubt
For more than once, he’s called us out, but in his rage, the benefit of his Doubt
His Heart longs to know, how long SHE will Glow, if he must walk the road “Below”
To his Eternal World of Pain, hate, Sorrow, Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow; he will go
His Heart is here, with US, his LOVE is True and Just , the doubt in his Heart, shall Die
His LOVE is real, for still he calls to YOU , Through ME His LOVE Eternal his Wife LENORE
                      Lives with us, She too is Lonely for his LOVE

                                        To be Continued