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Elegy Home Poems | Elegy Poems About Home

These Elegy Home poems are examples of Elegy poems about Home. These are the best examples of Elegy Home poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Elegy | |

Tina - At Home In Our Hearts

Tina - At Home In Our Hearts Tina came to us as one in a pair With a sweet disposition – beyond compare. A loving heart was hers to give, And give, she did as long as she lived. Britney, on the other hand Acted as one from an outlaw band Poodle Rescue was their former home From our care they would never again roam. They reached their teens casting their spell Till one dark day we heard the specter’s knell A dreaded tumor was Tina’s fate And her life became anything but great. Grief was sown in hearts that day – Hearts, that wanted her to stay. We came to know that Tina’s fate Would take her straight to Heaven’s gate. So, a needle brought, an angel, sleep And broken hearts were left to weep. Now, Britney moans so soft and low Wondering why Tina had to go. Written by: John Posey 10/25/13

Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy | |


History is repeating itself now
The cutleries at home weeping 
Your clothes in midst of confusion
All in desperation, trying to regain composure 
The tables, chairs curtains, all missed you
When are you coming home, father?
The birds had stopped singing on the trees
In the family compound because you're gone
The children of my mother beheld your smiles but it faded
Fiercely on them and moved away drastically.
Tears welled up in our aging eyes
Where are you father?
Where have you gone to, heaven or Jerusalem? 
When shall we see and embrace?
Stitching my tears together won't safe me
Because my heart is clapping in remembrance of your words
I picked up your footprint yesterday but
The broken home damaged it totally .
Your image stares at me each time i entered into
The room where you once laid to re create the history of the commoners
When are you coming home father to sew our minds together?
when are you coming home from the battle field?
Our souls are in debt of your face
Teasing the walls of our hearts
Return home father, come home Odenigbo the great
The forest that killed dreams in nkporoland
We wait your return father in the Agbala 
Our sack cloths darker than the coal
We took in all the Hawk-like eyes that stole 
Suspicious stares at death,
Come home father, we wait thee

Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy | |


When fire dies, it remains ash, cover it up
When the day dies, new day shows up
When husband rest, leaves a sowed love
Widow cries, dwells with grieve
And loneliness
"He has slept, he forever sleeps"
A countless times, she vends
And at the buttock, she feels the world
And the need to go with him raises up
Unreturned journey lacks partnership
The sowed love dies not
Abides within loves heart.

Inspired by a book,

Copyright © Afolabi Muideen | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

Going Home Again

Don't weep for me, I'm still here with you.
I'm in the air that you breathe,and in the wind that blows your hair.
I'll be in that first ray of sunshine that wakes you up,and in that last lingering
light of the moon and stars.
Don't weep for me,I'm going home.
I know your hurting, I can hear your soul crying, but calm yourself and remember,
the next time you feel the wind on your face,see a rainbow, sit and watch
the sunset,or even see shooting star,it's me,sending you my love.
And until we meet again,I'll keep your love with me for infinity.
Don't weep for me, I'm home again.

Copyright © Heather Weichman | Year Posted 2007

Details | Elegy | |

My Last Prayer

The Last Prayer
Father, I feel your presence…..even in my desperate state.
My eyes are heavy, my body weak….but I anxiously await.
Ever listening for your call…..quietly  at rest fond memories to my mind I recall.
Hear my heart dear Lord for I can no longer speak.
Send your angels down for me….Bare me home on angel wings.
Closer home than yesterday…. I can hear the voices of the angels sweetly sing.
My eyes to this life now closed…I feel excited this journey to take, all eternity for me 
I long to walk through those Heavenly gates!
The sorrows of this life now pass away forgotten memories of my yesterday.
Father, I will miss those I leave behind, but this my last prayer…..Please bring them 
home to be with me someday……

Copyright © Lori Lucas McClure | Year Posted 2011

Details | Elegy | |

Welcome Home Achebe

I could still remember that future banner
Fixed at the street of Anambra saying: 
Welcome home, Achebe, "our great hero"
Anambra still mourn you, we mourn you
The British protected child born with African tradition.

Thousand years shall your words linger
In our minds and spirit, your legacy shall 
Survive through the dying Anthill of the savannah.
Tears like raindrops falling down my eyes now;
As the thought of your undying memories remains,
A day without your face causes more harm to hearts.

Though we miss you here like dreams,
Though we drive not in your destination, 
Many thought your names shall be forgotten
But we still have the paintings in the sky;
Paintings that says million of your proverbs.
We bring you home to rest in the bosom
Of your people whose eyes hope for tomorrow.


My desperate heart calls out your names to the wind;
My tears, agony and sorrow forms the rain in the sky.
I can look the sun in the face and fight for your sake,
Death has done us bad than good like sickness,
I imagine him from afar in my mind like a demon.
Homeless children roam here and there dared of him.

He who strips off a child's wrapper to orphan,
He who makes a man to go without his dreams,
He who never look at face before taking has taking
You home but we bring you home to rest; Achebe.
This I promise that the name Chinua  shall forever
be engraved in the history of the world, never to be
Erased by any mortal.

The story of a strong man lost in hands of death,
Though it hurts, I draw those memories of him
From afar and nearby through the mainstreams.
We welcome you home through our watery eyes,
We flap our tears here and there to buttress our agony
Go in peace, Achebe, we shall sing praise of you
Here again and never stop singing again and again.

(C) John Chizoba Vincent
       Voice Of Vincent 2016

Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegy | |

I'm Going Home Today

My time has come, I'm
going home, today
The Lord has beckoned,
so I can not stay
known, I must go astray
With No questions asked,
because it be's that way
Since My destiny had been
set, I had No say
Now, a visit to the heavenly
kingdom, I must Eternally pay
Although, I hope My folks back
home, will be okay
For, "parting is such sweet sorrow",
to quote Romeo, if I may

Copyright © Karin Edwards | Year Posted 2010

Details | Elegy | |

Milo and Me

Milo and Me- Born well-timed fore-teen mouths from Me.
In an unknown town, in New York somewhere north of Albany.
Known to the Native American-as Wings Falls-
In their time-so it seemed.
Known as Milo to only a few--but to Me, my Brother-Best Friend!

But- It’s my assumption GOD had other intentions-
for Milo and Me. We lived and were reared by that poor family.
On that unknown Street- North-off Main Street.
Known to few-like J.F.COOPER and the“Mahikans.”
North about 66 miles from Albany.

You will ask of me and I know-how did two mountain boys ever make it off that Street?
It would have seemed to the multitude residing near that street-
That Milo and me were as good as disconnect from ANY Eternal Majesty.
My resolution to you would be-only by GOD’S Devine Grace and Majesty.

Then-the day came, much to the surprise of Milo and Me-
Mom and Dad sold that OLD CURSED house on that infamous street.
We moved clear across town to a more superior Street--or it seemed?
Until- Milo and Me got to know the natives living ON THAT STREET!

You see- on THIS STREET for Milo and Me-we discovered our addictions-
can’t you see? Myself just 13, and for Milo, fore-teen mouths younger than Me.
It started with drinking some “stout,” with was innocent-initially,
then lead to trips with Mary-Jan-I hope YOU see.
My presumption is for Milo and Me-we should have never got to know-
those good old boy on-THAT STREET!
Well-If I told the rest of this story-though poetry,
it would be far too long--hope you can see.
So--let Me take you to the end of the story.
We will travel by make-believe time machine..
Close your eyes, Close your eyes,--so you can’t see.
Fast forward we go, to the year 1998-now you may see!!
By this time, for Milo and Me, we had not seen each-other
in a LONG time-you see?
For each of us--a Wife and some kids-- only if you could have seen!
You would know-- the pain and heartache without Milo and Me.

You may notice and see now- But--you will NOT find--Milo and Me.
You see, you see-- it has been ten years now--for Milo and Me.
He journeyed to some faraway land, to get away from--his home land.
Helped by the Army--left 3 little girls to fend for themselves--in His home land.

At the end now- I raise one final toast to the memory of Milo and Me.
Not a toast like the days of glory brought--from some fine ALE- or smoke from Mary-Jane.   
But--a toast--or better said--a petition of a different sort.
To the GOD we once knew together as young men-- on THAT STREET!!
By: W.E.M

Copyright © Wayne Mattison | Year Posted 2010

Details | Elegy | |

Jesus Called You Home Today

Jesus called you home today
Said your time was up
Please walk this way
Follow him through the Pearly Gates
As you step through Heaven's Door
Please remember these few words

Mother I will miss you so
I'm sorry you had to go
You were only 49 years old
But your time on Earth was done
Now it was time for you to be an Angel
I know you'll be there to watch out for me

Like you were when you where here
I am happy though
You don't have to suffer from the cancer and stroke
Jesus took your hand and lead you home
Showed you a new life to live
Even though you are truely missed

I know theres holes in the floor of Heaven
And your my guardian Angel 
Watching out for me through my troubled times
You are still my guiding light
I love you mom but know its time
Cause Jesus called you home today

Copyright © Christina Beeler | Year Posted 2009