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So Many Days Ago

The days are piling up Like oak leaves in the fall So many days ago Since I felt your touch Your pictures beckon me So I reach for you through them Our grasp is so fleeting Just a moment and it’s gone I yearn for your presence again But only feel whispery tendrils Of your memory fading And my strength ebbing away New memories are forging But they are weak and fragile They stay for such a short time For there is no love to hold them together I yell out to the emptiness Which will never again be filled With the happiness of being A father to a son

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Jeanie Bennett

Date: 2/22/2017 8:08:00 PM

Such a beautiful tribute Wade !! You will be together someday--xoxo ~~ Jeanie ~~

Wade Greenlee
Date: 2/22/2017 9:06:00 PM

Yes, I cling to that every day, Jeanie. Even though I have misplaced my faith, there is enough for me to hold onto the hope of that amazing reunion. Thank you for your thoughts.

Lynn Marie

Date: 2/20/2017 7:13:00 PM

This is heartbreaking. Your words so deeply sorrowful, the pain very expressive of the loss of a loved one. Incredibly well written, so very sad to read. blessings, lynnxx I just went through some of your poems and I am so very sorry for your loss. May writing give you some semblance of solace and comfort. You have beautiful memories, thank you for sharing them.:-) Congratulations on the feature placement.

Wade Greenlee
Date: 2/22/2017 9:03:00 PM

Thank you, Lynn. This road sure is a long one, but I keep putting one foot in front of the other, and know that my son would be proud of me. He would laugh at me writing these poems, as he was the wordsmith. I do have such beautiful memories. We were truly a pair right from the start, as we shared the same birth date.

Kim Merryman

Date: 11/12/2015 10:48:00 PM

This is such a pain-filled, sorrowful write, Wade. My heart goes out to you. I hope putting your feelings into poetry will be a help to you. Love, Kim

Wade Greenlee
Date: 2/22/2017 8:56:00 PM

My son would be proud of my poems. He was always the lyricist with his music. Yes, writing is certainly cathartic. It is a way to try and reach through the veil from this world to his. Thank you, Kim, for thinking of me.