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Dedication to two very Special Women Andrea and Anne Lise by CW, Theresa
A Dedication To John John by Ellison, Jack
97 Years A Dedication by GRASBY, DAVID
A dedication to Lucy by Amure, Robert
A dedication to Bels by Amure, Robert
A dedication to Abigail by Amure, Robert
A dedication to Marsaila by Amure, Robert
A dedication to Christine by Amure, Robert
Dedication To Mom by Negron, Nayda Ivette
A Dedication: Draper Family by GRASBY, DAVID

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The Best Dedication Poems

Details | Dedication Poem | |


Sweeping through your scotch broom,
weeping over your cobblestones,
lilting around the columns of Calton Hill,
is an Age of Reason so brilliantly brooding,
some nights I am kept awake
listening to Pendragon's breath caress Arthur's Seat,
and whispers drip from sills on Ramsay Street.

Though roots may drink from a sleepless night,
when morning light creeps through the curtains,
my love for you is renewed.

*This is a re-post 
replacing an opinionated piece


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

More great poems below...

Details | Dedication Poem | |

I'm the Poet - To Carrie

                Dedicated to Carrie Richards

I am ...
the wandering breeze in the wheat field
the pawn advancing to the eighth rank
the ocher leaves under the window
the One Hundred Years of Solitude
the One Thousand and One Nights
the disappointment of the elderly
the pile of dirty dishes in the sink
the water trickling into the sewer
the hand that calls and defends
the vast ocean that drowns me
the widower feeding the doves
the five drops of Chanel No. 5
the saddest verses of Neruda
the insect hidden in a cocoon
the impotence of forgiveness
the Tango and the Tarantella
the windmills of Don Quixote
the colors and the shadows
the sadness of the hunger
the barking dog that bites
the prelude and the fugue
the glass of wine to share
the illusion of the outcast
the puddles on the street
the new kid in the school
the orphan in the asylum
the lies of the politicians
the rain on a sunny day
the message in a bottle
the petal and the thorn
the laughter of children
the blindness of Borges
the feather in the wind
the moss on the stone
the beard of Whitman
the Nuremberg Trials
the door always open 
the underpaid worker
the mistletoe waiting
the hair in your food
the tangerine wedge
the gasp to nowhere
the last surrenderer
the beggar's refuge
the pointing finger
the foam of anger
the broken mirror
the clocks of Dali
the curving road
the Trail of Tears
the garlic breath
the bitter vomit
the Nazca lines
the lost island
the false note
the joy of sin
I am death
I'm  the poet.


Copyright © Ruben O.

Details | Dedication Poem | |


You are the light of my world my precious son filled my days with happiness and fun. Always smiling, never blue how quickly you grew. Pure delight you shine so bright. Strive in all you do now, and for your whole life through. Spread your wings and fly; my job is done. You are the light of my world my precious son 02~13~15 Contest – An Invented Form – Andrea Dietrich syllables checked 11,9,7,5,3,1,3,5,7,9,11 name of new form - mission almost impossible! ~awarded 3rd place~ ~awarded 1st place by Carol Eastman~

Copyright © JAN ALLISON

Details | Dedication Poem | |

The Poets I Hope to Meet in Heaven - A Tribute to Chan Hurst 1979-2014

A few poems written by Chan Hurst, (Just That Archaic Poet)

I hope that we can find some comfort in them at this sad time.

"A Rational Explanation"

What must I do to see this through-
Unlock the world I never knew?
For all I've seen hath been untrue,
As all I've felt hath plagued me, too!
I am no more, past Deaths before
I've reached the end of Living War-
(to see through eyes both blind and closed)
A life to touch, but never know...

"Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep"

Every day, to God I pray
For answers to Life's enigmas
Patience lays in wait to stay-
To cleanse our Social Stigmas
We pass the time in our idle Dreams:
Like fallen stars in singing streams

"A Happy Ending"

Remorse and regret, I mustn't forget
Remind me that Life is a process of Learning
Indeed for I sorrow'd; 'twas always upset
As the Truth was met with painful discerning

But now my eyes are open-wide,
Grew to love what I once despised
I am no longer sick inside-
I just feel happy to be alive

"A Master's Approval"

No happier could I ever be,
(Or feel a joy's enormity!)
Than to know a Soul as Poe-
Would say he likes my poetry!

"The Poets I Hope to Meet in Heaven"

I pray that in my Eternity,
I'll meet Shelley, Poe and Emily
That we'll all sit down at a table round,
And at length discuss our Poetry!

And Longfellow, lest we forget
Lord Byron, Shakespeare, and beloved Keats!
If I prove their favorite Poet,
I could accomplish no greater feat!

For all my many silly musings,
This one I covet above the rest
For my Soul's toil- finally proving
That the Masters love me best!

"Heaven For A Poet"  by Kelly Deschler

My own piece of heaven, a quiet little nook,
With only the finest parchment in a leather book,
A feather quill pen and an ocean of ink,
My thoughts would never stop to think,
Every single line I write would rhyme,
My poetry would be beautiful and sublime,
I'd be entertained daily, by Dr. Seuss,
And, put to bed nightly, by Mother Goose,
Lessons from Byron, Shelley, Coleridge and Poe,
Teaching me every single thing that they know.

My own piece of heaven, will have to wait,
Until one day, when I must meet my fate,
So, for now I will have to be content,
With my own words that may be heaven sent,
Inspiration from my idols is all I need,
Writing poetry in a notebook from Mead,
With this cheap, plastic Bic pen,
And a dream to be, just like them.

This poem was one of mine that Chan had faved, so I thought it would be appropriate to share this now and dedicate it to him.

I will always miss you, BP, my brother in poetry, but I sense that you are smiling down on us now.

I know that Chan idolized Edgar Allan Poe. I remember him telling me that someday,
he wanted to share a table in heaven with that "good ol' E.A. Poe".

So, Chan, if that is what you're doing now, I envy you, my friend! 

And, you said that you would personally invite me to that little gathering, remember? :)

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

Details | Dedication Poem | |


Introducing: Leonora Galinta & Poet Destroyer

I was awoken by the effulgent smiles of sunlight 
Dancing on my window pane with great delight 
A jovial repartee of birds: I didn’t sleep last night 
Waiting for my love under the gleaming moonlight 
“Till I heard their melodies of a glorious morning sight 

In my blue gown, I run up the verdant hills 
What an enchanting view, so mesmerized …I stand still 
A gentle breeze wraps its arms all over me, down my heel 
Tingling my deepest sensations, great passion I feel 
October Breeze just arrived, dancing with flowers …I kneel 
Savoring the moment passing by ...I listen
The wind whispers -- watching leaves as they glisten
On this day, a beautiful October Lullaby of life is written
The squirrels outside -on this night - seem quite smitten
Another dreamy tune under the blue moon's transition

Dancing my way down the verdant hill, under the sun
I run with joy, into the arms of the majestic one
The passion I feel describes fall's adventure just begun
Intoxicated by the blossoms ...I stand still, in a silent shun
Dreaming and romancing with my love Blue October

~A Poet Destroyer collaboration~
   A tribute and birthday Gift 
   Happy Birthday 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Dedication Poem | |

Crack like fissures

  To The Brink For The Ink    Crack Like Fissures 

Another page scarred with ink.   Upon her page, I see red ink
branded by the thoughts I think.   Tattooed thoughts, that make me think
My mind imprisoned, feel the burn,   Within intricate patterns, my heart it learns
         past the point of no return.     As I slip off her ledge, my spirit churns
Faces bob like buoys in an ocean,   For her mind, it is an ocean             
I'm sea sick to societies motion.   I'm lost upon, her wave like motion
Clutter intoxicates my brain,     Intoxication, it fills my brain
filling me with failure and pain.   Strange impressions, as I view her pain
Forcing sleep deprivation muse,    bubbling from my mind, feelings break loose
cigarette, pot and coffee abuse.       I'm transported back, to my own abuse
Five A.M. and the pressure is strong   Crack like fissures, emotions strong
to make these words move along.     I feel I've known her all along
My audience awaits but I'm still     She grants me audience, within places still
writing rhymes against my will.   Her rhymes resonate, until I bow to her will
Blocked by need I'm suffocated,  lungs filled fully, never suffocated
my joy becomes what I've hated.   She is one transcended, never filled with hatred
I can't escape the vines I've grown,  a climbing flower, I've see how she's grown 
         notebook prison, I cry alone.  With her notebook open, she's never alone       
            All this angst and misery,   She transcends angst and misery
all for the love of writing poetry.    Within her glowing landscape of poetry

                    Casarah Nance     Richard Lamoureux    
           September 14, 2015    September 14, 2015

             Dedicated to the Artistry of Casarah nance

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux

Details | Dedication Poem | |

Dear Lucifer

I cannot compete with something as painstakingly glorious as you
Envy is but a humbling tumble down a steep, rocky hill
I am crushed in your fits of glory—your screaming for passion
My approaches are absolutely wrong
Therefore my communication is a weak, ransomed victim
Your poison arrow frog skin rubs against my exposed body
I happily accept my fate
For your beauty surpasses the ephemeral pain of the infectious reign
My erroneous, inevitable downfall
I hold you up—I feel the need to keep you tall!
Michael the Archangel did not insult you once, Lucifer
How then will I? 
How can I possibly be higher than you?-
Why would I want to?
I admire your freedom
I simply disregard your macrodomes of ever-worshiped flaw 
If I could allow myself, I would share in your glory
Only to add to it further
But as I am poisoned with the truth
I can only be your grounded pedestal
And though you flee from humility in its wake upon my brow
I realize everyday you are living for the grounded now
And I merely look to the unknown future
A place I dread where you unwillingly hold me up
Bonded in the ground with Death and Hades
You become my pedestal, and the worms my vineyard
My parasitic feet seer your glory
I am ever so sorry
I never wanted this renown

There was a time I do recall
When you overtook me in my sleep
I cried aloud in helpless acceptance
But soon I was forced in a croak of laughter
I felt your bitter poison
I felt pride at last
I thank you for it
I thank you for showing me

What I will never be

Dear Lucifer,
Provoke me no longer to praise your eternal existence
Generations of Evening take a hold of me now
And the fruit must be shared

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Dedication Poem | |

My Lovers Beyond Compare

I greet you, oh mighty Sun!
You who warm us everyone
You who glow to make things grow
You who melt all ice and snow
You are a most mighty one
For you rule the sky, oh Sun
But my Lover have you seen?
Oh Sun, now where have you been?
Far stronger he is than you
His rays warm me through and through
He knows how to “solar” please
His heat he turns on with ease
At times he warms nice and slow
Until I melt, and I flow
Then sizzles without a care
He drizzles from solar flare
He scorches me with his might
Defies the coming of night
Oh, Sun Prince, can you not see?
My Lover’s Sun King to me?

Oh, Moon, you send out your beams
Enchantress are you of dreams
I have named you, Mistress Moon
For you make each lover swoon
But even YOU can’t compare
With my Love! Try, if you dare!
Like you, he lights up my night
Yet brighter far than YOUR bright
Into nights his magic spills
Brings to body lunar thrills
He makes my wild passion rise
To his pull, my heart complies
Oh, Mistress Moon, do beware
My Lover is much more fair

Oh Stars, be snuffed out in shame
Your twinkle is not the same
As my Lover’s eyes at night
Incandescent is his light!
They gleam down on me in love
When like you, he rides above
They engage as he commands,
my body with “eye” demands
There is not a finer gaze
than his eyes that leave a daze
Oh, Starlight, you weakened are
For his eyes outshine your Star

Oh mighty Wind, well you sigh
For your strength, I do deny
While your gusts can lash and whip
and prowess, a soul can grip,
My Lover’s strength is much more
Than all that you have in store
He brings me down to my knees
By his breath, a lovely breeze
My body you can’t caress
His fury makes me undress
When he moves, I feel the rush
He presses me close, a crush
My tresses and every part,
he commands with galeful art
Oh Wind, you now must subside
For from his touch, who can hide? 

Oh mighty Waves, you that pound
that crash with a roaring sound
You crest in a foaming spray
and leave all in disarray 
My Lover, breaks over me
In waves of sheer ecstasy
He builds up a mighty roar
Then in tingling crests, I soar
He thrashes with might and pounds 
Till in his white foam I’m gowned
When the crest recedes, what bliss,
I’m lulled to sleep by his kiss!
Oh, mighty Waves, this is true
My Love is stronger than you

Oh Powers that Be, beware!
My Lover’s beyond compare!

 :) Eileen Manassian :)

Copyright © Eileen Manassian

Details | Dedication Poem | |

Poet -This Poem is About You

-Dear, Mr & Mrs Poet- 

Do you ever question where it comes from?
This poem's about you, sit down and get a load off 
Tranquilize your pen, take heed to the ecstatic applause 

The things in life we take for granting, in time get worse 
From WHICH' our lives transverse, ascends a deep poetic curse 
You write almost everything, rehearsing every living verse 
Embezzling words, like Martha Stewart, ---NOT YOURS!
Withdrawing from your substance, 
--yielding it to others, who aren't devoted lovers 
Spacing your lines, ready for reader's digest, 
Educating the mind, like Albert Einstein

You paint a different horizon for the color blind,
Drop a note, forecasting the news, that brings, Spring to mind
Your adrenaline, leaves people with a feel good faint.
At this level, Poet you're better than high speed Internet,
Anything that makes you feel this is the real deal, 
Today, you write like there's no tomorrow, borrowing yesterday's clay
Inspiring ink, left to right, feeding the need to breed a poetic degree 
Your dramatic dialogue, deserve 'The Peoples Choice award."

I love the sweet audio, when you lowercase every word
It's done so well, hell, let's never capitalize another word
Reaching a point across, when capitalizing every letter, 
This is your world, take it, manipulate it, with the perfect stanza
Produce it like a poetic film, imagery, action, CUT it like Jerry Bruckheimer 
One day Hollywood will incite a roll, looking for the best poetry soup rhymer

Your tears and affection, you pour on partial paper,
Showing every word you want to enunciate
A SHOULDER-- gone cold, drowning, forgetting the normal way
Writing about the pure religion that meets your light, 
A beautiful flower under the moonlight
Hear the bells, Poe wrote about, adding sprinkles to the twinkle in your eyes, 
A redolent scent not meant to be forgotten, from Eden's garden
Taking nature, by course, granting her a crown, before slamming us down
I will call her out --The evil and the fury of a goddess, a beast
This is my feast, I welcome you to my jungle, and the outer bounds of time.

If you ever question where it comes from?
Sit down and get a load off, listen---Where's the ecstatic applause?
I'm not afraid to say, -----I'm Proud to be A Poet Without A Cause

I do it for fun

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Dedication Poem | |

Obsession (by Calvin Klein)

undeniable as dawn and dusk upon the still horizon
as tulips reincarnate in bright hues on blue grass gardens
so is the scent that lingered in the folds of your leather coat
as it catches wind on someone else’s skin….so wrong….

familiar…just  like my breathing….obsession in the air
aching like a thorn in my heart it bleeds a refrain of pain
remembrance should be buried in the earth where you lay
yet it haunts me still and taunts my soul in turmoil (indelible)

like midnight slaw mangled in a bowl of noose and weeping
somewhere you slumber (buried asleep) as my throat chokes
I still miss your laughter when that cologne hit’s a June breeze
if I close my eyes I still see your crooked grin in mid day sun

as tangible as wisps of smoke my fingers reach your smile
I toss the solemn words “I miss you” on the lakeside silence
I will see you again….this I know….and the scent assails
always like footprints dried in concrete….forever with me

*R.I.P my friend…..

Inspired by Sir Brian’s contest “Indelible Impressions”

Copyright © Christie Moses

Details | Dedication Poem | |


Trust not in the words: "In God We Trust", printed on currency,
for God and Money should be kept separate,
unless one desires to tempt fate with the Money-God,
tempt fate by not over-turning the money-lenders' tables,
although many might argue how this isn't good for business.

Why not know the value of life,
instead of focusing too hard on the prices of Idols.

People are bleating at the prospect of "God" being removed
from money, arguing that if God is removed from money,
the grazing grounds will become Godless.

With or without the words, 
a Money-God is a God nonetheless.
There is at least one true God, 
whether man-made or not;
an authority of control,
a God of profit margins.
Violence is a profit margin.
Hatred is a profit margin.
Bullets, Amendments, and Death, are all profit margins.

The war being waged upon children, is a profit margin.

If I had been given the chance, 
I would have tried my best to take him out,
morphed the vapours of my remaining hatred into bullets,
or torn him apart with my hands.
To stop innocents from losing their innocence.
There are lines drawn in minds,
that if crossed over, stretch beyond the bristle-board of rehabilitation.
Even Clockwork Orange bleeds into crimson spatters.

When a child survives a massacre,
runs across his school field to find safety from a stranger,
proclaiming to the stranger, "I can't go back to my school, it isn't safe there.
My teacher was killed, I don't have a teacher anymore.
All of my friends are dead."....

....then innocence has been lost, and the Money-God is empowered even more.
Lost innocence spreads like a disease through the minds of global villagers.
Fear breeds fear, breeds control and disintegration of the Stream-Mind.

If I had been given the chance,
I would have fought fire with fire,
fed the beast within, 
taken him apart with a breath of hatred.
Breathed it out, pushed it out, purged it out.

Satan is a scapegoat used by people who are unwilling 
to take accountability for their actions and sacred responsibilities.
The Beast is humanity -
not marked by a fairy-tale Devil,
but instead marked by the Money-God created in the image of man;
recreating the image of man through fear.

Some people might be intrigued by how many definitions of God there are.
Even if money is a necessity,
within our core there should reside a different Kingdom -
without and within, within and without.

If I had been given the chance -- past tense....

....if I am given the chance,
I will try my best to take him out,
smudge him out
with the remaining hatred in my heart.
Breathe it out, push it out, purge it out,

until all that's left is to love,
until all that's left is to love.

December 14th, 2012 - S.H.E.S:  28 - 2 = 26

January 7th, 2013


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Dedication Poem | |

This Song is for my Mother

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
I couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
A song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created and cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Memory of a mother
Shared my dreams and really cared

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
I know I wasn’t there……

For you

Would have placed 
A magic carpet 
‘neath your weak and shaky legs

Would have raised
A strong west wind
Let you breathe with ease again

Would have bribed 
God’s venal angels
Come and soothe your endless pain

Would have vanquished
All the demons
And bring peace to you again

Be the child
I never knew
In a land
We won’t grow old

Be the light
I always loved
Warmed my dark 
And lonely soul

Be the girl
Playing games
In a world 
The sun won’t set

Be the laughter
Calms my heart
I never will forget
I won’t forget, won’t forget

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
Couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
Song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Ashes of the words I spoke

I broke my promises, oh mama
Now you’ve gone away 
I’m broken
Drowning in the pain each day

I’m  drowning…drowning...drowning…drowning

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me…….

Copyright © Catman Cohen

Details | Dedication Poem | |


Can a child ever forget, how deep a mother’s love abides

All those days since birth, till now I’m grown she guides

Remembering her smile, so tender, so warm as her embrace

More than soothes away my pain, my fear of failure and disgrace

Even in my dreams she comforts, her voice, her scent would stay

Never will her being mother stop, till when I’m old and gray.

26 March 2015
Contest : Acrostic on Mother's Day - 1st Place

Copyright © Kim Patrice Nunez

Details | Dedication Poem | |

Kiss The Sky

Dropped some purple haze with Jimi -
we created castles out of polished beach glass,
then we fused with acid-laced clouds.

Kissed the sky
so high.

Jimi started bawling,
his torrential tears washed us down and out to sea.
Each drop of water became a pixel,
until reality morphed into a painting of musical notes,
and the music transformed back into a fresh reality.
There wasn't any more doubt
whether we were experienced now -- and how.

The tide washed us up into heavy crosstown traffic.
Jimi wandered down Voodoo Blvd,
I became a hoodoo child
gobbling up sugar cubes filled with liquid sunshine.
I watched the yellow cabs race by,
watched the heavy metal race by.

Jimi was jacked into electric ladyland,
his radiant smile, hiding pain
and covering other people's lies.
Even so, Jimi believed in his message,
sincerity set him apart from the crowd,
which is why he made sure
not to let his smile, wither and die.
But the more that his manager pushed,
the more that Jimi's pusher came....

Jimi was hypnotized by the flashbulbs of fame,
attempting to out-run a childhood filled with shame -
blowing out speaker stacks
with that twisted pedal magic,
spellbinding incantations
vibrated from his guitar,
making love to the sky with rainbow hues
of acid rock-induced rolling blues.

Jimi simply wanted someone to love him back
even half as much as he could,
for Jimi's love was honest and hard,
with wings waiting to be released
into a world not yet ready to be fully free.

Kissed the sky.

Kiss the sky
so high.

2013 "I Love You Like Sky" Remix
May 20th, 2013


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Dedication Poem | |

Forty Today

Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…

the orange tinged carnations 
were a perfect complement 
for the skies
and for you… 
orange and blue
always remind me of you

the winds softly blew
and I just sat there
staring at the grass,
well more at your name really…

hardly believing
what I am looking at, 
that it’s been seven years

of missing you,
of just putting that reality
at the back of my mind…

But there are days,
such as today
which make me 
confront that reality—

I see your smile,
remember your laughter
celebrate your spirit
and your love

Tears, I tell you I have
the most stubborn tears
maybe because they 
make it so real for me?

I look around me
and look for that sign

Nope, not there…

I say a prayer
and speak to you
thankful for the life shared

I kiss the date that you were born

and walk away

my reflection on the car window

One last look around,

and then I see it…

a cat, as we drive away…

Skies now streaked purple and pink

**My brother would have been 40 today, May 6…

Copyright © binibining P.iNk

Details | Dedication Poem | |

Poet Destroyer-It will be ok

I know first hand the
pain in your heart,it
will be okay,soon you
can make a fresh start.

Your grandson Beal will
be watching over you,and
he knows everyday how
much you love him to.

Sometimes GOD does things
that we don't understand,
but he created your friends
to lend a helping hand.

Reach out to the people
that are here on the soup,
they help through hard times
and are a wonderful group.

There are to many to name
as this you know,
they will take you by the
hand and won't let go.

It will be okay and
soon you will see,
the new joy's in life
and how happy you'll be.

           You will get through this it just takes a little time.

                                                Love your poet friend,
                                                Colleen Marie Bono
                                                  April 11, 2013

Copyright © Colleen Bono

Details | Dedication Poem | |

In Celebration of Mothers

I celebrate wonderful mothers 
who always put the needs 
of their children first,
the single mothers who 
especially must sacrifice 
to help their children survive 
and thrive with little money
coming in, yet finding ways
to make them feel they fit in.

I celebrate mothers who dole 
out love in great abundance
and always take the time
to listen to their children's
concerns and problems
with sage advice that comes
from wisdom's experience.

I celebrate the grandmothers
who have stepped in to raise
their grandchildren when
their daughters can't or won't.
These are Earth's angels.

I celebrate the step-mothers
who raise their stepchildren
without any reservation,
loving them as their own.
They've earned a place in heaven.

I celebrate adoptive mothers
who raise their adopted children
with the same acceptance and 
love a birth mother bestows.
They are God's gracious gifts.

I celebrate the mothers who have
lost their children, through death,
kidnapping or by any other loss.
Their suffering cannot be gauged.
Let them receive blessed peace.

I celebrate the dear daughter in laws
who have become beloved daughters 
as they become mothers to their mother
in law’s precious grandchildren.

I celebrate the foster mothers
who give abused and orphaned
children a temporary loving home.
They have a direct line to the divine. 

I celebrate great grandmothers
who continue to teach their
daughters, granddaughters,
and great granddaughters, by
example, how to be great mothers.

I especially celebrate the homeless
mothers living on the streets, through
circumstances beyond their control, 
who somehow manage to 
keep their families together.

I celebrate those mothers who live
in impoverished countries who have
starved to make sure their children
have enough food to keep them alive.
Blessed mothers who’ve died for that sake,
and for those who have died giving birth.

I celebrate the time, effort and selfless
love bestowed upon every lucky
child who has been given the
precious gift of a loving mother!

A heartfelt Happy Mother's Day to all!

© Connie Marcum Wong

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong

Details | Dedication Poem | |

Sending Waves Touching Beautiful Always

She who sends waves touching beautiful warm and gracious words
Draws bright sunshine smiles in our hearts as they sing in her grace
Flowing from the heart her beauty held in her Quill ready to write
Pure diamond sparkling rainbows as a true friend is a friend in deed

The tidal wave raises fine soaked sand from the bottom of the ocean
And the waves curl out pearl white reflecting a most Picture Perfect
Image that is truly splendid and always sublime to behold and cherish
As Nature’s soft wind caresses your aura and inspires your next poem

She who sends these very waves touching beautiful personifies a Muse
So rare, so special—and brings her influence and talents to bear in
Masterfully supporting the efforts of fellow poets and dreamers as they 
“Spill Ink” on blank pages late at night crafting their next poetic masterpiece

The very power and wonder of her good works and positive influence are
Always there magnificently arrayed like pure beams of sunshine touching
And dazzling all in her reach quite profoundly with the magic of her thoughts 
And the quiet courage of her convictions as the simply wonderful poet she is
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem (Free Verse Poem),
November 26, 2014 

NOTE: Written in Honor of Anne-Lise Andresen for Her Fine Poetry and For 
Her Continued Professional Support and Encouragement of Other Fellow Poets.

Copyright © Gary Bateman

Details | Dedication Poem | |

On Watching Innocence

A pretty girl in pleated dress of red,
with collar laced in white beneath her throat
and matching bow upon her small blonde head,
is glancing round the chapel. I take note.

Though nails on little hands show grown-up paint,
she emanates no guile.  She’s unaware
That in this world are some who wish to taint
all innocence; for no one do they care!

She nuzzles her dad’s face as on his knee
she’s sitting now - his sweet beloved daughter.
What menace lurks, from which she could not flee?
What evil lessons might one day be taught her?

She hugs her daddy’s chest; I watch and pray
she’ll live to hold a child her own one day.

In Memory of the 20 + 7 new angles of heaven~ "our own little poetry soup VIGIL"

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Dedication Poem | |

True Hearts Beating

Where will I be twenty years from today?
The World is moving at such a fast pace.
Will I still look at love the same way?

Will I be able to look at your face?
That is my heart's greatest desire.
The World is moving at such a fast pace.

Now when I'm with you my heart is on fire.
I wish for my soul to still burn for you.
That is my heart's greatest desire.

My eyes may grow dimmer I know that's true.
A love so beautiful will never fade.
I wish for my soul to still burn for you.

Even if my body to death is laid.
That will never stop my true heart's beating
A love so beautiful will never fade.

The world may be fast sometimes defeating.
That will never stop my true hearts beating.
Where will I be twenty years from today?
I'll still be looking at love the same way!

Valentines Contest

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux

Details | Dedication Poem | |


I met them once I landed in a place, 
they called it haven, a soiree place. 
Where people are nice,kind and cool. 
Some are young, some are....never mind. 
They're awesome people!

I first met this blonde lady,thought she's only twenty.
She did refused, said she's almost a mother to me. 
I beg to disagree,'cos she's more than just a mom. 
She's a bestfriend, she's wonderwoman. 
She lives in Norway,Anne Lise Andresen was her name. 

There goes a new avatar,who came to visit on my land. 
She's wearring sunglasses,but can't hide the beauty from behind.
Then I found out lately, she doesn't just own a pretty face.
She is the sexiest and hottest momsie,rockin' up poetry.
She's a real poet master,SkAT A.,that's her name! 

One day I sat down and read some poetries, 
So delightful,inspiring, and awesome pieces. 
I got struck to what I've found. 
A Filipina who's writing with charms, 
Her poems are incredibly great, 
She's Nette Onclaud, the goddess poet! 

I came to land another page, thought at first that's a cage. 
Of a tigress with full of angst and strength. 
I must admit, though I was afraid, I admire all the pieces she had made. 
She left the table and threw the soup,and think tha'ts the last time I'll see her poem. 
But with revenge she went back home, and send me greetings that I treasured. 
With friendly comment I came to know, this tigress is tame and a sweet person. 
Who is she?...the everbody's love and favorite, Poet Destroyer!

As time goes by, and my journey went long.
I had to passed in different stations.
I came to know so many beautiful people,
So kind and thoughtful, their arts are treasures.

There came to visit my poem one day, 
Though full of greiving,they cheered me so well.
They are Mary Jo ,Eileen, F.J. ,Vie and Shadow.
The women who are pride of this site.
The pretty ladies who always been there to lift you high.

Above all these awesome experience,
Is to know the people from my own motherland.
My country fellas, so sweet,cool and nice.
They are the crystal flowers glisten brightly like a star.
They are Leonora, Maria Paz, Nikko and Carole...

My day became brighter, you light the path I walk.
Everytime your greetings knock on my door.
Allow me to do the honor to thank you guys.
And let you all know how thankful I am.
My dream has came true, because of this site.

Copyright © Aiyah de Torres

Details | Dedication Poem | |

Jan - The Giggle Queen

My sister Jan, y'all know who I mean Joined the Soup and became a giggle machine Big laughs galore Leaves us wanting more Giggle Queen of the Soup, brings joy to the scene © Jack Ellison 2015

Copyright © Jack Ellison

Details | Dedication Poem | |

Rose Colored Glass

He sees the rose in her cheeks
She sees the wrinkles of time in her mirror

He sees the long, flowing brunette of her shining hair
She sees wisps of grey, dull hair that she can't manage

He sees shine and twinkle in her blue eyes
She sees her reflection through corrective lenses

He holds the soft, smooth hand that wears a gold band
She feels him squeeze her weathered, gnarled hand

He sees her running through the garden to greet him
She feels the pain, as she walks with her cane to meet him

He sees the girl he met and loved at seventeen
She sees the love of her life

He sees through rose colored glasses
She adores him

Dedicated to my grandparents
Contest Entry, 'Love Me Tender' sponsored by Miss Kristin Reynolds

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Dedication Poem | |

Sharon Weimer

Though we’ve never met 
I comprehend your beautiful words
I feel your pleasant persona
Never a mean word to be said
I ache from your kindness 
Making others feel ten feet tall 
Picking me up when I may fall 
Talent beyond compare 
Are you brunette or fair?
But that wouldn’t matter to me 
If I never had the chance to see you face to face 
Your wonderful personality I could never forget 
You’ve help build a community of friends 
Steady and true
I wish you peaceful skies of cobalt blue 
Fields of flowers brushed in rainbow colors 
I pray for love from God above 
For you and your family beloved 
Know that you touched lives that may not have been touched 
You changed someone 
And brought me a new reason to write 
You’re an inspiration and a friend 
And you’ve touched my heart polite 
Gratitude pours forth  

Written for and about Sharon Weimer !

Copyright © Laura Mckenzie

Details | Dedication Poem | |

To Robin

You left me so sad today
I needed you to make me smile
I wanted to see you laugh
And forget my burdens awhile

Robin, you left me sad today
My heart is pained even more
That you're the one who took your life
Was there nothing worth fighting for?

Robin, what do you leave for us?
Who have struggled down this path?
What do you leave for us to think
If you couldn’t make it last?

You had it all, you had the fame
You had the glory too
But Robin, where was the love?
Where was the love for YOU?

Those who laugh the hardest
And make the tears come down
Are those with pain too great to bear
So they play the part of clown

I’ve also played that part, my dear
I laugh to hide the tears
I giggle and I joke around
But I’m consumed by fears

Oh Robin, I will miss you so
We’ve never even met
But I feel I know you well
No one sweeter than you yet

So like a robin, you flew away
Took your life to be free
Oh Robin, I’m left here to think
What will become of me?

Eileen Manassian

To Robin Williams, one of my absolute favorite actors. I adored that man.

Media vita in morte sumus – in the midst of life we are in death (Wolfgang 

Depression claims another soul. Only those who deal with it know the dark 
places that it can lead...yes, even to the valley of the shadow of death.

Copyright © Eileen Manassian