Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos

Elegy Wife Poems | Elegy Poems About Wife

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

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)

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen

Details | Elegy | |

Poem written near a Cemetery 2 of 2

Poem written near a Cemetery  2 of 2
On 13th February 2012

But nowhere in that cemetery I could find,
Flowers smiling on any Stone, Tomb or grave,
Whatever big may have been,
The status of those, who were buried there, 
With or without any pomp and show.

Some of these yester year stars, 
Were laid here with a simple stone, 
Standing as a symbol of their death, 
Without telling their simple stories and 
And without telling much about their lores, 

I came back again after searching a lot,
On the grave of this noble soul, 
The small flowers were still busy in,
Swinging and dancing, 
On the stone of Sophia Rees. 

Those wild little yellow flowers,
Had called me from a distance,
Perhaps to convey the story, 
Of this unknown noble soul.

I counted those tiny yellow flowers 
They were six only all swinging in the air, 
To find on whose stone they were blooming,
I started reading,
The faint and dim stone lines,
Where the engraved letters had lost their ink,
Wiped away by the passing of time.

But the first three lines, 
Made me to stand on my toes, 
I could read very clearly,
In the clear upper lines it was written, 
“Sophia Rees Owen 31 years old 
left this world on 27th November 1834, 
Leaving her husband and six children. 
She was a sincere friend and 
Truly attached wife and Most devoted mother”.

Something told me silently in my mind, 
Why on this grave only,
The Nature had bloomed,
A bunch of smiling and dancing flowers, 
This unknown lady of yester years 
Was perhaps a noble and kind hearted soul.

May be Sophia was a lover of Nature,
May be a Poet, a Philosopher, a Painter or 
May be she was a wonderful Singer,
Who wanted to sing some beautiful songs,
But before she could have tuned her instruments,
Was called by the God in Heaven. 

What a strange thing it was, 
To come and to watch in that graveyard,
Those little flowers and the grave of Sophia Rees, 
Which I had noticed unknowingly,  
From across the boundary,
While I was passing on the road.

These lines are my homage to that noble soul,
Who is  spreading her smiles even to this day,
As if through these flowers, 
She was singing some of her most dear song.
Kanpur India 13& 14th Feb 2012
“Text of the Stone on Sophia Rees Owen”
“In the memory of Sophia Rees Owen 
The beloved wife of H T Owen Esqr. 
Of the H C Civil Service, who died on the 27th 
Nov.1834 aged 31 years 11months and 18days.
Leaving her husband and Six children to lament 
Her loss. She was a sincere friend, a truly 
Attached wife and a devoted Mother...

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor

Details | Elegy | |

Poem written near a Cemetery 1 of 2

Poem written near a Cemetery  1 of 2
On 13th February 2012

While moving near the walls of a cemetery, 
I saw the glimpse 
Of a bunch of some tiny wild flowers,
Blooming in the golden Sunlight falling on them, 
They were waving their simile, 
With every gush of wind,
On the monument of a deserted grave.

For me it was a new and exciting experience, 
To enter in that cemetery of eighteenth century,
What had brought me to that spot,
Where those wild flowers were still smiling,
Remains a mystery
Every time, I think and rethink. 

I saw hundreds of monuments and tombs,
After entering in that preserved cemetery, 
Some were telling the story,
Of the grandeurs of its dwellers,
While others were there,
Standing without a crown or a story.

The grave on which, I saw those flowers,
Was not showing an appealing face, 
Age had withered its luster and charms,
And time had left its marks on its face.

Being in the last line of that cemetery 
It was waiting in the long queue,
For some kith and kin of Sophia Ress,
May come some day and  
The face of that noble soul’s grave, 
May once again obtain its lost glory and grace.

There I found those lonely wild tiny flowers,
Still blooming and smiling and dancing,
With every gush of wind,
Telling silently a beautiful story of its dweller,
As if, they were paying their homage,
While remembering her lost songs and images.

In the morning hours of the Autumn,
The tree leaves were falling, 
Everywhere on the ground,
And some were even falling on me,
Either to tell the universal truth, 
Of the inevitable departure of everyone’s one day 
Or perhaps to accompany me, 
In that graveyard of all those,
Who were totally strangers for me.

After watching that grave and 
Appreciating those tiny flowers,
I explored each and every tomb and monuments,
Standing in the memory of those British,
Who had lived a royal life during those days,
When they lived here and ruled my country, 
For a very long time. 

Kanpur India 18th Feb. 2012  concluded in Part 2

Text of the Stone on Sophia Rees Owen

"Text of the Stone on Sophia Rees Owen
In the memory of Sophia Rees Owen 
The beloved wife of H T Owen Esqr. 
Of the H C Civil Service, who died on the 27th 
Nov.1834 aged 31 years 11months and 18days.
Leaving her husband and Six children to lament 
Her loss. She was a sincere friend, a truly 
Attached wife and a devoted Mother.......

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor

Details | Elegy | |


You try to do the best that you can,
walking on eggshells I could never stand.

Both feeling judged for every action,
love thrown aside by this distraction.

So we're both insecure and afraid to face the music,
time goes by and hits us like a ton of bricks.

I don't think I've changed that much,
your mind in the past is where it's stuck.

Damage beyond repair is all that can be seen,
one of us has to go, exiled, as hard as it may seem.

So one of us puts our foot down. But at what cost?
The intolerance to change so that a marriage is lost.

Arrogance is the sickest way to raise your esteem,
now that all that we could've been is now just a dream.

Copyright © Jon B. Rangel

Details | Elegy | |

Marie III--Is the Coffin Too Deep

So frigid was her immaculate body Her last second in screams is all I can see Love's revenge was my guilt With you I'd rather let you die with Bound hands Without you, Marie, like the psychopath's dream Death is all that I can see; All that could redeem Did anyone ask Did anyone recall The sweet taste of the poison The swift slash of the knife he penetration of the lead The pain of her decaying heart I can hear it's bellowing cries But why can't you, Marie, Hear my paranoid eulogies Is the coffin too deep? Was it so hard to solve Was it so hard to see That I strangled her so easily My nails piercing her comely skin Blood dripping like the pomegranate I crushed with the shovel I shattered her shins The knife to slight her wrists Didn't you see I did it all The only witness Couldn't say Is the coffin too deep? The pain of her decaying hear tI can hear it's bellowing cries But why can't you, Marie, Hear my paranoid eulogies Is the coffin too deep? Marie I cant stay Earth is to cruel when your coffin is to deep Forever in death and in death alone The pain of her decaying heart I can hear it's bellowing cries But why can't you, Marie, Hear my paranoid eulogies Is the coffin too deep?

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen

Details | Elegy | |

One Fine Day

Today is my wifes birthday,
I should feel joy for her, but I feel betrayed.

Cause I cannot celebrate another year of life for her that has come and gone,
instead I will be by myself, more reason for suffering to spawn.

I cannot hold her and tell her that I love her,
I cannot give her gifts to make her feel important.
Instead I wait for phone calls dealing with bills and raves and rants.

It's supposed to be a joyous occasion, 
but I feel like I'm mourning the dead, my mind and heart feeling under invasion.

Wondering if I will be a tribute to such events,
this is one fine day indeed, but for me is torment.

Copyright © Jon B. Rangel

Details | Elegy | |

Stuck in limbo

I don't want a divorce, 
I don't want our marriage to end.

I would love to be by your side,
and when the whole world is against me have a place to hide.

I desire to see your face every morning when I wake,
it hurts me deep inside that I'm away.

Not by my choice but because you feel It's best,
you don't have the feelings for me that a wife should.

I'm not sure if you think you're doing me a favor by separating like this,
one things for certain that you both are truly missed.

My life is up in the air and when I fall I hope that you'll be there.

I know I'm sometimes rough around the edges but that's who I am,
committed, loyal but sometimes paranoid of how you do things.

Am I to be totally subservient to you if things work out?
Or will we both meet half way instead of scream and shout?

I wonder at this very moment if you feel anything for me, 
I know I love you very much and never wanted to leave.

Stuck in limbo in every aspect of life.
What am I to do, when I still love my beautiful wife?

Copyright © Jon B. Rangel

Details | Elegy | |

-There nor There-

Dreamt of you last night
tossing and turning
reaching out
but you were no longer there
Pulled my pillow tight
snuggled farther inside my covers
was so empty and cold
not having you there
I've tried and tried to put you someplace else
try and act like I don't care
the only rest I get without drowning in there
Once again caught in your dream
you appear with that smile that brings me to tears
can still feel you wrapped around me
just like you were there.

Copyright © Paula Sanchez

Details | Elegy | |


The last couple of day's have been a blur,
from what does this wretched eclipse of confusion spur?

My life broken because of a mistake,
at what ends will I be consumed by this fate?

Again I will be alone in a strange land,
where the only purpose is to fight in the sand.

Sleepless nights and dreary days will haunt me,
no motivation to carry on, no will to decree.

I cannot laugh, I cannot cry,
my heart racing to the point I want to die.

Reality has yet to set in on these current events, 
but 9 years thrown away just to feel content.

Copyright © Jon B. Rangel

Details | Elegy | |

Do you really care?

Do you really care that I am hurting?
Emotions that you try to hide by averting.

I wish I could believe that you care,
if I say anything regarding us, you take it as a dare.

Taking your verbal bashings as if they were serene,
something I unintentionally did to you, acting mean.

We used to ask each other with humor "who's a thug"?
acting it out as if we were taking drugs.

I never understood until it was too late,
the clairvoyant damage I was causing, spawning such hate.

Guess you can't love me like a wife should, 
standing alone feeling misunderstood.

I'm sure you feel as I do to some degree,
scared to communicate your feelings, living like a banshee.

Love and understanding is all I ever thought I gave you,
endured yet challenged by a different point of view.

Copyright © Jon B. Rangel

Details | Rhyme | |

Elegy for a Frozen Heart

This is the final poem in the 'Quartet in Dark and Light'. In many ways, it is the saddest of the four:

She trembled in the dark of her door today
Her hardened heart long ago died
HE swaggered to war where his pride held sway
His heart all so blasted and dried.

She knows what he craves is the gold that all men
Covet and grasp at so fierce.
And why should she not share the treasure then
Though her soul its cold hardness should pierce.

And if he should slap their children so hard
It’s not like he does it too much
They’ll grow tough like him, though a little scarred,
Without tenderness or love as a crutch.

If fierce words and blows passed between the two
It’s only that she was to blame.
Didn’t she see what she made him do?
She was always the cause of his shame.

Now she waits in her home with a heart so dead,
The stones of the hearth not so cold.
The return of the Tyrant she does surely dread
Her sole comfort, his hands....full of gold!

Copyright © Michael Spangle