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Death Lost Poems | Death Poems About Lost

These Death Lost poems are examples of Death poems about Lost. These are the best examples of Death Lost poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

Don't Come

.

     I don't want warm fingertips touching my name.
     I won't feel those left-to-rust letters,
     not even read them—Don't come

     with lashes under waterproof mascara
     for same-day return flight
     —those wings were mine.

     No need of somber daisies,
     I won't pick petals anymore.
     Naked of all care to unclose my eyes,

     I'll be quieter, simpler, easier
     to understand. Don't knock on the stone,
     I won't be around

     as whisper, as tickling, as shadow,
     nor sudden silence, no crying wolf.
     You won't find me. I'll be gone.

     My every sunset consumed in tundra,
     devoured by questions that tore skin and
     dreams. Forget it—nevermore.

     My best smile, my blessed hands, my better world,
     nothing will be left of them. Don't come,
     it'll be late. You should have come earlier,

     you shouldn't have gone.
     This stolen flower pressed between our lives
     never wilted; yet,  you didn't know.

     Your constant walls, my depth of doubts, our equal loss,
     blow them off into the night.
     But don't come,

     once I'm gone—I swear,
     not even as a tiny blade of grass—
     never, I will never return.



10/8/2010


.

Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2010



Details | Free verse |

It is Quiet Tonight

It is quiet tonight.
The only sound is coming from
the soft murmur of the television set.
I don't know why I don't just put it on mute.
I don't want to hear what they have to say,
but I guess it is better than the sound
           of silence which is deafening. 
It hurts my ears, it hurts my heart.

Yesterday I was happy, but that was before,
before I stepped into the dark abyss.
I think I may have been pulled in 
           by the apathy of death. 
Death has such long arms.
I won't ask why, I know everyone must die.
But you left on a happy day, a day we were
making plans, and I had hope, 
       hope that we still had time,
                    time to share those plans.
You made me laugh until I cried that day,
        and then death swooped in 
                      and took it all away.
It is so quiet tonight.

© Connie Marcum Wong
8-27-16

August 10, 2016 Poem of the Day

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

winter's afterglow

stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains,
delicate pure white flakes danced;
swirling, twirling, rhythmically.

she stood, nose pressed tightly
against the window pane; gazing in awe
at the magic the snowflakes created;
as tears spill from her emerald green eyes.

the cabin is warm, radiating a comforting glow
a fresh pine scent lightly sweetens the air;
she fights the memories, as she begins to shake.

fingers entwined, she tries desperately to hang on
be present in the moment;
"stop, stop, stop" she says, stomping her feet;
she falls to her knees; quivering. 

she holds tightly her arms and begins to rock,
feeling his presence in his favourite black sweater;
she cannot bring herself to take off.

giggling sounds permeate her thoughts
cocooned in his aura, his essence, his scent;
she feels his lips kiss the nape of her neck,
his strong hands caressing her hair.

she rocks and rocks, time ceases to stop,
as she falls deep into a rich
moulton pool; his smouldering brown eyes.

her lips part; barely into a smile at
his joy when he surprised her with the cabin; 
their oasis away from home.

she wipes away a tear, beams from within
as she recalls the snowball fight, he lost, she won.
he scooped her up, carried her with glee,
over the thresh hold of their cabin; 
their oasis; their heart's retreat.

a decadent white rug bought just for her
lay invitingly in front of the fire,
fiery orange embers crackled and glowed.
he gently laid her down; "my beauty" he said.

they drank champagne, drunk in each other,
wrapped up in his care, she felt peace.
as they lay basking in winter's afterglow,
he whispered "this is my time, i must go".

startled, she sat up, staring deep in his soul,
as snowflakes twirled and danced, 
fresh pine lightly sweetened the air;
he breathed one final breath; then he let go.

her screams were not audible, her body convulsed
as she lay on his chest; her heart; her home.
she cursed the night and winter's afterglow
sobbing "not him, not him, please take me too".

she fights to bring herself back
to the here and the now,
as embers slowly dim, she wobbily stands
clutching tenderly his urn, she must set him free.

the stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains
she opens the window, where dreams breathed of life;

with tears cascading
she releases her love; her life;

to become one 
with the magic of;
winter's afterglow.

Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006

Details | Rhyme |

What Only Angles Hear

Daddy never did understand.
That violence doesnt bring comfort.
A lost soul seeking acceptance from a unwelcome hand.

She was silent no one ever knew.
The secrets behind her bruised eyes.
A shocking victem none but all had a clue.

She cried to empty walls never speaking aloud from fear.
A confession of pain and shattred trust.
this is only what angles hear.

Scars selfinflicted  are better than that 
dirty feeling.
As she lays a broken shell gazing  at the celling.

She questions if others know what will they say.
Doing whatever it takes to stay numb.
Innocence lost a parent should never betray.

The guilt was placed apon the wrong head.
Void of all emotion.
No child should yern to be dead.

At times it gets to uncomfortable so in 
another direction we  steer.
For at times it's just to painful to stomach.
What only angles  hear.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009

Details | Quatrain |

LOSING HER GLOW



Arid wind roughens skin of day 
breathing in the ash of Fall sky,
his  blurred  eyes fold to drop away
on piercing whiffs that slowly die;
like mirrors crashed unto the air
a splendor gliding down below,
where rain-clouds grip…into nowhere
biting the night with sharpened jaw.
 
Drained fingers jot sweet memory
calling Pam’s name in every bloom,
as laced nights recall the glory
of fondness born from love’s heirloom...
Time pauses… her Glow swirls on trees
where romps christen fire tasting life..
And though wonder darts to appease
pale the ticks, yearning for dear wife.



Laura Loo's Contest:Second Place Only Contest III
Submitted 2/5/2016    Judged 2/6/2016
For the 'LOST'  Theme Contest

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

Details | Classicism |

The Widow among Roses

The widow among roses,
though a scent so sweet 
she smells to near smile,
how red the vibrance of life
and soft the petals caress
her lonely cheek,
she remembers her love lost
(her left eye a tombstone glass)
and seizes not to yearn it back ---

The Blacklady among crimson;
her desert rains evermore night and day,
and still the dunes of her heart soak not with love,
the arrid wind still shoots the sand 
through her wasteland unbetrothed,
where the sun never rises,
nor never beautifully it sets 
through her tombstone eye

She walks the night dressed in white,
her wedding gown a sight for ghosts
and phantoms do fright;
they cannot haunt ---
this foot-in-the-grave-soul,
glowing white-red howling at the moon

To true midnite her feet carries her so,
where the river rushes reflecting 
forever moon glow

Where the nymph and sylph and dryad never go,
whispering and wondering ---
gazing to this lady alone,
this poor begotten thing ---
this shadow unto death,
who filled with eternal tears
(seated in some unknown place)
her nose in roses, and her mind always in the past
(grieving life) 
and mourning some faceless man


*** Inspired from a friend's mother, who at the age
of 40 --- all but gave up on life at the death of her
husband, which deeply saddened me ***


Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |

Soldier

I saw a burial with a bugler playing taps;
I turned to my father, “what happened?” I asked.
He clutched my hand and with a quiver in his voice,
he began to explain and his eyes became moist.

“My son,” he said, “this is rather difficult for me;
for an old veteran like myself this is tough to see.
In that coffin lies a genuine patriotic warrior,
an honest-to-God hero, an American soldier.

I appreciate that soldier and the service he gave,
and I honor his sacrifice as he’s laid in his grave.
He was honorable, selfless, courageous, and bold;
please remember him son, as you grow old.

The value of his service, I must explain,
if not remembered, will be lost in vain.
As a nation we’re nothing without soldiers like him;
and failing to remember would be a terrible sin.”

I listened in awe as my father spoke,
it seemed as if his heart were broke.
I suddenly remembered when he went to war,
and when he returned I thought nothing more.

I never asked why he walked with a limp,
and I didn’t care about why he was sick.
I was too busy enjoying the life that I had,
to realize that I had it because of dad.

I finally understood what my dad was about,
and it hurt so bad I cried out loud.
He sacrificed so much so I could be free,
and his battle scars were suffered for me.

It was my father’s spirit that spoke to me that day;
thank God I finally understood what he had to say.
I saluted his coffin as they laid him to rest,
and I thought about the medals pinned on his chest.

That I didn’t honor him sooner, I will always regret;
and I pledged that day to never again forget.
I’m proud that my dad was a patriotic warrior;
I’m honored to be the son of an American soldier. 

Copyright © Ed Coet | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |

Soul mates solace

When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender 
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories 
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised 
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013

Details | Concrete |

BrokenHeart

..................   L  I                                  L  O
                Y            F                       Y             V                         
           M         H        E                M        G           E                
       F   O   R   E  V  E  R             E   T   E   R  N    A   L                    
     L     E    N    O    R    E          L     E    N    O    R     E
  E   N   T   W   I   N   E   D       E   N   T   W   I  N   E   D
 Always  with  my HearT  I         Always with true Feeling
Love You, my Dearest WIFE        ALWAYS with Emotions
My  Love grows like an oak        My  Heart beats for YOU
Mighty  and E v e r l a s t I n g       MY  TEARS  are  Real 
 YOU  are  M Y  STRENGTH         Yet My Heart still Aches
  FOR YOU LIVE in  ME            Though You live with GOD
   ETERNAL  B L I S S        YOU wear the gown of Angels
     INFINITE  P U R E        YOU carry my Heart in Yours
       You grow in my heart     EACH  and   EVERY   Day 
         The LOVE grows and   I am at  Peace KNOWING
            As  LOVE  Grows          In my  BROKEN Heart 
              Constantly Knitting        cracks and Fissures
                My  Dearest Beloved    Tenderly  Mended
                    Repairing Loneliness   My Wife Lenore
                       Angelically Smiles   Eternally Loved
                          MY Only Most        B E L O V E D
                              L  I  F  E        L  E  N  O  R  E
                                  Always      F O R E V E R
                                      YOU    My  Heartbeat
                                          Are   My   S O U L
                                              MY      W I F E
                                                One  Breath
                                                    N e v e r
                                                      Alone
                                                      YOU
                                                       And
                                                          I

Copyright © HGarvey Daniel Esquire | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |

Suicide Mind

What makes the decision
To flick the switch
To end ones life
For the sake of it
 
Troubled, debts
Bullied at school
Fork in the road
To let death rule
 
Mums, dads
Daughters and sons
What ever affects them 
They just can't outrun
 
Sadness and tears
By all left behind
Will they ever understand
Suicide Mind

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme |

John's Aramis

Intoxicating was his scent Many hard-earned dollars were spent To evoke his bliss Give him Aramis Young and poor, we were newleyweds Memories linger in my head This scent was so strong But to him it belonged And through time I travel today When e’er Aramis wafts my way Sad tears gently rise John’s scent fills my eyes Another dimension I seek Longing to hear my husband speak We'll meet again one day Faith brings hope my way
*For PD's oldest love poem contest. Poem written for my late husband John.

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2009

Details | Haiku |

STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

Now my tendrilled soul,
Has found its pergola-- Christ--
To wind its way up....

Copyright © EMMANUEL SAMSON | Year Posted 2007

Details | Elegy |

The Last Gold Leaf

The last gold leaf hangs on the bough;
summer is just a memory now.
You, too, have gone, my golden friend;
our summer days came to an end.

We said goodbye; our chapter closed.
How I will miss you no one knows.
On eagle wings you split the skies;
your spirit soared. You had to fly.

My earthbound soul will bear its grief
severed from you on mortal reef;
but returning from yonder shore,
your love in waves will wash me o'er.

You've gone before, my trusted love;
I wait behind, your mourning dove;
yet, from across the great divide
your voice to me in dreams confides.

No, I think not that dreams they are;
but communion of the near with far.
On such sweet songs I stake my claim
to know and love you once again.

Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy |

I Need Your Help Daddy

I’m tired
I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here

I can’t get back in control of my emotions 
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy

I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help 

Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance 
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help






Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |

This Mountain Here

I remember the day I got the call.
My world fell apart.
I had lost it all.

I remember the day you were taken from me.
I knew your beautifull smile I would never again see.

They said it was a mugger and you put up a fight.
I should not have  let you go out that night.

It seems like just yesterday we fed eachother our wedding cake.
When I remember that memory my hands start to shake.

I sit in my cabin on this mountain with the sky so blue.
I won't leave. This's where I spent my honeymoon with you.

My family wants me to go back into that world, so cold.
I'm not leaving this mountain.
It's where I'll grow old.

They say your gone and will never again be.
Well, I hear what your saying. Yes, I know your talking to me.

You sit in the chair and drink my tea. 
My heart swells up when you smile at me.

They say I've gone insane and see things that aren't there.
If I'm on this mountain here why should they care?

I love you more then I did when we first found this place.
I remeber everything about you, your ellagince and grace.

Why am I not in that world full of anger and fear?
I want to be with you on this mountain here.

Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2006

Details | Rhyme |

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |

To All Of You

There are times we are left to cope
With situations that drain our hope

Leaving us full of despair
At how some people just don't care

About the evil that they do
To good people like all of you

We are left to somehow face
That in mankind there is disgrace

And those of us left alive
Must find away to survive

As you pick up the pieces of your life
Without your mother, father, husband or wife

And some of you God forbid
Without the love of your kids

We must band together with a brotherhood
Show that in this world there is some good

Because we are together in this deal
We try to help each other heal

We seek in each other good advice
And offer each other sacrifice

We hold each other in prayer and song
As we continue to re-build the wrong

Because what else in the world can we do
Except let the light of good shine through

The evil darkness and despair
Of a catastrophic lack of care

We want you to know you are not alone
Think of America as a giant cone

And all of us are funneling through
Our prayers and hopes to all of you


Posted for Nathan's 9-11 contest

Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2009

Details | Dizain |

LOST

Sitting quietly beneath the old blue gum tree Flowers surround me lined in neat rows on the lawn White and blue, tall and short placed as if by gods’ decree My eyes mist, oh god what she had undergone Her face clouded in pain, body still as a frightened fawn The room white, Spartan white sheets drape the bed Her raven black hair no more, so much left unsaid Eyes of fierce emerald green now dull and sedate God let fall tears the day her mortal coil she did shed Soon again in each others arms, standing at heaven’s gate
Written 30/01/2015

Copyright © Shane Cooper | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Lest We Forget

In churned up soil the poppy rose 
On top of death, still steadily grows 
And in our minds we see the crosses 
That lie in rows and count our losses 

Blood that drips from tiniest bloom 
Beloved children, lost from the womb 
Their essence blown upon the earth 
For infinity, will show their worth 

And so they marched by decree 
A war they fought, so we could be free 
The poppy, how we remember them now 
So in silence we do reverently bow 

One single day, just once every year
To remember all the horror and fear 
To give thanks and praise, to those in need 
Who saved us through unselfish deed 

For so young when they said goodbye 
With no idea that so many would die 
In Flanders Fields where poppies grow 
Innocence, now lays buried in each row 

For those that did return safely home 
Their spirit lost and so had flown
To fly away among the peaceful skies 
With friends and larks with carefree eyes

In the thunder hear the roar of guns
Calling to all our native sons
Arise, arise, from sleep once more
For once again, there will be war

In Flanders Fields, the poppies grow 
They cover our loved ones, buried below 
Like a blanket, they protect all within 
From a world that is ravished by sin 

More souls will join them as the years go by 
More wars will be fought, as the lark does cry 
More fields will be filled, with our dead 
And poppies will mark their graves in red

"Lest we forget and more shall die"
"In Flanders Fields our loved ones lie"

 

Copyright © Bernadette Langer | Year Posted 2006

Details | Sonnet |

The Rose and the Thorn

I shall nay know all the wonders - you hold
For all too soon the winds of winter blow
Scarlet petals withering in the snow
How cruel the breath that kills the velvet rose 

Tears - that canst’ bear the thought of letting go
Forever frozen in this empty soul
A broken heart forever turned to stone
A broken stem left now to stand alone

Alas! I find that life is bitter-sweet
As I stand holding only memories
Of a rose blooming in the summer breeze
Here beneath this old weeping willow tree

Once I held the sweetest rose - ever born
Now – in my grief – I hold the bitter thorn.

                            ~~~

                    Author:  Elaine George

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2009

Details | Sonnet |

END OF LIFE

SONNET – END OF LIFE

Fore'er without the pain, always apart,
As now with absent cast of yearning eyes.
Time's lonely quest to heal a wounded heart,
With destined end, to ash returns my rise.
My life ordained to doom in outcast fate,
The zeal of joy turned into woeful lies,
Confused a life in prime to dust abates
Defeats compassion past the silent cries.
From dreams of  love to useless life so bare,
Bereft attempts turned into grave desire.
No longer will remains, alone despair,
In end of all that was, of purging fire.

A lonely heart deceased in frozen cold,
No breath remains of ornament once gold.


T.J Grén

Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

In the Autumn of my Life

I walk
through flames
of autumns’ sweet refrain-

That break beneath
a weight too much
to bear-

Where-
I tread in solitude
and mourning there-

Along a path 
of maple trees
and scented air-

As
I recall the life 
that we once shared-

~~~

And in 
the twilight hours
I see
the beauty of it all-

In every
autumn leaf
that softly falls-


~~~~~


In loving memory of:
My Father  - Harold George
Oct 27, 1927 - August 11, 2003

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2007

Details | Light Poetry |

Birth and Death

The sun and moon conceived a star shooting through time and space born within the ocean delivered upon its waves while Beethoven's sonatas softly played nightly gales whispered those tunes to all the seashells beach sand passed through coral reefs as soles of lovers feet tread buried in beach fires deep begging the earth most humbly to draw a breath but over the cliff the hurricane's wind blew until death from those turbulent ocean waters came a sailor's truth watching a passing ship with broken sails and ghostly crew waiting as death cast it's ending shadow old, yet new sending those born in ocean waves back to the waters blue in birth and death none shall overcome casting us away to where everything was once created in it's hidden depths and there began an understanding between birth and death, a truce
Inspired by: John F. Kennedy." We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch - we are going back from whence we came." 9112007

Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad |

Once Willows Wept Not

'Tis now known why the Willow weeps, 
a tragedy of love, its memory keeps.
For once a young man and young maid, 
on tender grass, beneath branches lay.
Though pledged by birth to another, 
from clans they hid, to be together.
Thus, the gentle Willow was their choice, 
meeting beneath, till love they could voice.
The Willow held these secret lovers dear, 
so would lower its boughs, when they drew near.
Thus tucked away in the Willow's womb, 
could lay as one, yet this love was doomed.
For jealousy lurked within the pines, 
spying young lovers thus entwined,
behind Willow's curtain of slender limbs, 
He swore the maiden, would yet be his.
Thus, it came to pass one day, 
as young maid softly made her way,
to their Willow, deep within the glen, 
espied the branches did already bend.
Timidly, as she did draw near, 
soft sound of sorrow fell upon her ears.
Parting Willow's branches to look within, 
a dampness did touch upon her skin.
The Willow was shedding sap laden tears, 
for the young man, in death, was near.
'Twas an arrow that had been used, 
a potent poison, the tip infused.
The maiden, now blind with grieving mist, 
pulled out the arrow, held it, in clenched fist.
Whilst cradled in love's arms, did he draw last breath. 
Then, young maid, plunged the arrow, into her breast.
And so it is, that this story is told,
as the Willow's grief would not be consoled.
For unable to stop what had befell,
the young lovers, it had hid so well.
With will broken, as lovers lay dead,
the Willow, its branches, never again spread.
And because it is the memory it keeps,
it is to this day, that the Willow weeps.



Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2010

Details | Elegy |

Whispering Old Cemetery


I came across an old cemetery today while exploring,
     Full of broken, toppled headstones and tangled weeds;
There was a deep hush, a whisper and a sigh, I felt tears,
          My tears were falling for long dead souls forgotten.

A tree's roots are entwined around an old, tilted stone,
     In loving memory of my husband George, born Feb, 1882;
Oh, George you were loved very much once upon a time,
           God took him, but he will not be forgotten, engraved.

And I am of the age of Aquarius too, just like you,
    I love violets and everything purple, and I am so mellow;
Oh, George were you a deep thinker, sensitive, creative,
           I get hurt easily and I always want to help people.
            
Be at peace George in your decay and ravaged grave,
     Listen to the twittering of birds this bright sunny day;
Promise, promise, I will be back to lay some purple violets,
          Forever now, dear soul, you will dwell in my heart.

Now, be still George, I heard your whisper  . . . 

____________________________
April 28, 2016

Elegy

Submitted to the contest, Any Poem Written in April 2016
sponsor, Laura Loo

First Place
_____________________________________________

Written for the contest,  Universal Acrostic Collaboration
sponsor, Steven Henderson 


First Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

Details | Tanka |

lost at sea - new tanka

wind carries the cries
of lost souls departed hence.
Claimed in the white foam
of a turbulent spring tide....
St Nicholas* comforts them


* St Nicholas patron saint of sailors


penned 31 March 2015

Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme royal |

A Lost Soldier

He wrapped his arms around me 
Never wanting to let go 
I gently whispered in his ear 
Daddy, when you coming home? 

He said I'm off to battle today 
To heal the wounded soldiers cries. 
I don't know when or if I'll be back 
The tears began to flood my eyes. 

As father walked away 
His smile, it did gleam. 
His final words to me 
Became but a nightmare within a dream. 

The bomb rang out 
Through the desert air. 
When the dust did settle 
They found father there. 

The soldiers stood at attention 
They saluted their brother goodbye, 
And the eagle spread its wings 
As a true American soldier, had died.

Copyright © Bobby Snyder III | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

Dying, we awake to eternal life.

His fragile fevered brow is soaked with life’s sweat
Nearing the end, his death has not arrived just yet
Shivering, his body is on fire, he makes a gentle sigh  
His frame broken down by the years now passed by
The end of the final chapter, his book has grown old
Soon in a faith filled church, his past tales will be told
He’s a person, loved, surrounded by his living history
His family hold one another, parts of his closing story 
Go quietly now love, for the time has come to move on
Hush now, your wearied tiredness, is oh so nearly gone
Soon the warmth of living will become so stiff and cold
Leaving this earth’s dusty soil, so as to join an eternal fold
He enters deaths doorway that will close quickly behind
A peace beyond imagination, a kind welcome he will find
Tears flow, fond goodbyes are spoken a kiss of farewell
Do not mourn too long have faith, know he is now well.

Patrick Brennan © 2010

Copyright © Patrick Brennan | Year Posted 2010

Details | Narrative |

A Precious Life

A young boy sat atop a hill
Wondering at all his Father had built
He thought about the clouds, the flowers, and the trees
He thought about his life, what it all means.


Then he saw death, dark and grim
Walking up the hill, directly towards him.
With fear and dread, the young boy cried
“I am not ready, this can’t be my time.”


Death listened to the Young boy’s cry.
And asked “why should I grant you more time?
Convince me?” He said.  “Then we will see
If you are deserving.  Perhaps I’ll let you be.”


The boy stared Death directly in the eye.
He searched his heart and then knew why
His life should be spared.
Why he deserved more time.


The boy stood straight and tall on his feet
And said, “I have never sung a song so sweet.”
Never written a poem that changed a life,
Or shared a kiss with my future wife.”


Death sat and listened with intent
To the boy's argument and was convinced
That this boy was indeed sincere and true,
He would not take him with his years so few.


Death said “Go live your precious life,
Write your poem and find your wife.
Sing your song with a verse so sweet
That man will bow beneath your feet.”


“I will come again when the time is right
And we will continue our journey into the night.”
“But, heed my warning to you.
Live your life right and always be true.”


The young boy grew into a tall, strong man.
He found success, money, friends and fame.
But in all his glory he was alone
And he walked again to his childhood home.


He climbed to the top of an old familiar hill
And as he stared across the land,
He marveled at the majesty of his Father's hand
And the man sat down to ponder his life.


As he sat Death's shadow came into view
The man stood and said, “I remember you.”
“You came for me here when I was young and afraid,
And showed mercy on a small boy and set him on his way.


But, I beg you please, don’t take me today,
for I have sinned and lost my way.
I am empty inside, I still need my life.
I haven’t my poem, my song or my wife.”


Death said, “Write your poem and find your wife.
Find your song and live your life. 
When next we meet, I promise you,
Your life will end, it will be through.”


The man traveled the world and enjoyed its pleasures.
He made and lost an endless treasure.
But, time was not the man’s best friend.
And He grew old, his time was at an end.


His money spent and his friends all gone.
The old man set out to find his song.
He tried to write poetry, but couldn’t find a rhyme.
He searched for his love, but she too had faded with time.


And he came at last to a familiar space,
A tall hill overlooking a plentiful place.
The old man clambered up the steep hill
And sat in awe of his Father’s will.


And as he sat he saw a friendly face.
Death had come to their old meeting place.
Death stared into his ragged face and weathered eyes,
And said, “How are you, my friend? How have you passed the time?”


The old man stood and stared Death in the eye.
With a heavy breath, he let out a sigh.
“I never wrote my poem and I never sang my verse.
I never found my love and loneliness has been my curse.”


He paused for a moment before he said,
“I am ready my friend for my eternal bed
Take me now for I’ve nothing to show
Nothing at all for your years that I stole.”


Death took his friend who had known no harm.
Down that tired hill, they walked, arm in arm.
Through the green valley that his Father created
And into the shadows, his image faded.

Copyright © James Andersen | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |

Lost Love

If only you could see the tears
In the world you left behind
You fill my days, my nights, my dreams
You’re all that’s on my mind
Your laugh I’ll never hear again
Your smile I’ll never see
Memories now are all I have
Since loneliness found me
Time was never on your side
Your short life had to end
Now I'm left in pain without
My love and my best friend
The sadness, the emptiness
The pain I have to face
Will never leave my life
For you’re a loss I can’t replace
Even though the rain will fall
And the sun will still shine on
My life will just exist
Because my whole world now is gone
You are an Angel high above now
Watching over me
But someday I know once again
Together we will be
For when my time on earth is done
You’ll come and take my hand
And guide us to eternal love
Together in God's land..


By Raina Hutchins

Copyright © Raina Hutchins | Year Posted 2007