Eileen Manassian Poet Sonnet

The Scent of Poems Past

in the lonely fields of poems past I roam
and linger on the fragrant flowers sweet
the comments left all decorate this "home"
where all is love, and every post a treat

I read what others had to say to me
how some extolled and others simply teased
I sometimes long for how it used to be
but my nostalgic sighs mean I am pleased

the poems chronicle my life and years
I am, at times, amazed by what I read
My joys are there recorded, and my fears
They will remain and when I'm gone they'll plead

"Oh, come and spend some time in poetry
Though poet is no more, she lives in me."

Eileen Manassian

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John Watt April 19, 2020 at 7:37 PM Eileen, I was browsing through my faves today and happened upon this beauty. I'm chagrined to realize I never left a comment, nor told you it was in my faves. Not only is this nostalgic, but speaks to the value of poems left behind after the author is gone. There is a measure of significance to our lives knowing our words will outlive us, and hopefully bring pleasure and wisdom to those who have access to them. Well done, poetess, you are one of the true treasures here at PS. Hugs ~ John

Lyric Man June 15, 2018 at 1:35 AM Eileen, I think I have a very silimar experience on those rare occasions I look back. Each of my writes are a part of me. They all express something obvious and they all have their secrets. Your past poems, I'm sure, show a life with passion and adventure. High highs and perhaps a few low lows. Relationship matter to you. And when they're good.. they're incredible!

Richard Lamoureux December 26, 2017 at 8:27 AM I hope you had a perfect Christmas Eileen. Hugs Rick.

Casarah Nance November 15, 2017 at 4:59 PM You are a portrait painted for all time, perfect in oils on canvas, your words last forever.

Richard Lamoureux November 13, 2017 at 7:08 PM Yep, I have slowed down a bit but am still here. I posted 3 questionkus today.

Joseph May November 13, 2017 at 9:50 AM Some who once lingered on the flowers are long gone...but a poem is never out of season.. beautiful yet sad..

Charmaine Chircop November 13, 2017 at 8:15 AM Aw dear Eileen..How happy I am,and how great it feels to read and listen to the voice of the poet inside of you.Hugs xx

Agnes Krampe November 11, 2017 at 7:17 AM Eileen, I love your poem and the comparison to a field of flowers. I have only been on this site for a year, but have written much longer and poems do chronicle my life. I also don't feel I have enough time to spend in poetry, and making the conscious effort to immerse myself is very soothing and rejuvenating. Eileen Manassian November 12, 2017 at 3:29 PM Exactly how I feel, Agnes. Without poetry...my life would not be as beautiful or as fulfilling. Keep writing, dear. Hugs

Andrea Dietrich November 10, 2017 at 7:59 PM Eileen, you say you miss the way it used to be. What part has changed for you? Just much busier than in the old days? I find the older I get, the harder it is to keep up! This is wonderfully nostalgic!!! Eileen Manassian November 12, 2017 at 3:28 PM I miss some of those who aren't posting now, Andrea. Yes, my time is also more limited. I am just a nostalgic person, I guess. Thanks for the visit. Hugs

DM Babbit November 10, 2017 at 1:35 PM I think poets resurface, renew, rewrite and are easily surprised over time. I had a gap of almost ten years where nothing came to be inspired. Then suddenly, with joy and tragedy, it returned and reading old poems I wondered, who wrote these surely not me. Wishing you renewal and rejuvenated poems. Eileen Manassian November 12, 2017 at 3:27 PM Thank you for the visit, DM. We all go through dry spells. I try to keep writing....I can't lose the joy and satisfaction it brings. Some of those poems are more...forced, but at least the exercise of writing keeps me hopeful. Blessings.

Richard Lamoureux November 10, 2017 at 12:58 PM I can relate and do miss some of those early days when there was such a wonderful sharing of ideas. Eileen Manassian November 12, 2017 at 3:26 PM So, it's not just me? I'm glad that our friendship has stood the test of time, Richard. I hope you stay....

Tim Smith November 10, 2017 at 11:13 AM I love it Eileen...I was doing the same the other night Eileen Manassian November 12, 2017 at 3:25 PM It so lovely to do so, isn't it? Nostalgia....big time.

Arthur Vaso November 10, 2017 at 12:58 AM This is a wonderful poem, I confess guilty to not spending enough time reading older poems, however when I do, I realizes the loss is all mine. Hugs! Eileen Manassian November 12, 2017 at 3:25 PM Yes, dear...These are the poems of our lives. ;) Now...don't go thinking of that soap opera! Thanks for the visit. Hugs

Probir Gupta November 9, 2017 at 10:48 PM This poem has been beautiful, Eileen What you write is mostly gold and green ... Eileen Manassian November 12, 2017 at 3:24 PM I'm very blessed by your comment. Thank you. :)

Kim Rodrigues November 9, 2017 at 8:38 PM Lovely and sentimental! <3 Eileen Manassian November 12, 2017 at 3:23 PM Thanks, Kim. I'm just full of mush! :)

Richard Evans November 9, 2017 at 6:49 PM Oh how I love a good sonnet. The line "poems chronicle my life and years" is so me. Thanks for sharing..........peace! Eileen Manassian November 12, 2017 at 3:22 PM Thank you for your visit, Richard. I'm glad you liked this piece. Sonnets are my favorites. Blessings.

Jan Allison November 9, 2017 at 5:24 PM I look back on some of my older poems many of which were a snapshot in events of my life and the massive amounts of reads and comments they used to get, sadly those days are gone as are many of those poets no longer on the site but I still continue writing as do you my lovely friend:-) hugs jan xx Eileen Manassian November 9, 2017 at 5:26 PM Hi, sweetie. I miss those days. I was just clicking on my previous pages and reading some comments. I miss the way it used to be. I'm finding it a little hard to keep up now. I'm always so busy, but today I decided to steep myself in poetry. It has a healing affect. I'm glad you are still around, love. Hugs