These eyes have often been solaced
by twilight's cotton candy pllows moving silently
towards a sky's velveteen blanket
and angels'silver gowns
By gazing over hills
to where old country church bells
and crickets play harmonious sounds
These eyes have often been solaced
by honey coloured shadows
pouring moonlight zest
across the rose plum of my cheek
By little antique lamplights
which illuminate my soul 's dark cobbled street
By winds carrying sea-salts to a fragrant golden sand
By tides washing out corals to a distant land
These eyes have often been solaced by your return
to this vacant room inside my heart
By the hush hushed whisper of your voice
By the embrace of your arms
By the way you love me
By the way you need me
By the way you want me
Like an autumn bonfire
before next sunrise'dew fall
By the way you lean on me
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014
It was a long time ago, in another age
Where the shifting of the wind
Knew where I began
A place so far away,
Somewhere distant, in childhood country
Before the fog had set in,
Before time lost all trace of me
Where have they gone?
Those merry dancers with whom I played?
When we were queens of the carnival, kings of the parade?
Before being dethroned to mid-life corners
Hearing the music, without playing the drums
They tell me to take this age with grace
Yet everywhere I turn, is young
I'm still the same, I have not changed
I lived a time where love was wild and thoughts were too
With high regard, when eyes were glued
Now inside I'm torn in two...the old and the new
Trapped between this nowhere place
Myself and someone else
Until each barrier becomes a bridge...
Have I been shaped too square by passing years, to fit in circle's place?
My memory recalls those beautiful tomorrows
Now long buried in yesterday's ground
There are other ways to measure time
Besides growing older and graying hair
Recorded music fills the room
Left playing from an earlier time
When October skies showed fading traces
Of empty days and sad old faces
The "others" of whom I had no fear
Now those shadowed remnants from my past
Are stalking at my heels
Will somebody care to ask? Will anyone need my mind?
Is there something they want to tell me?
Will they patronize, or just be kind?
Care enough, make me useful, give me value, call me beautiful?....
Not yet the age I'll someday be
Still, I feel the sting of losing me
How I ache for all those love songs
How I ache for someone needing, someone pleading...
For advice....for my worth, for an answer, will they want me?
How it haunts me.....Will they see me?
Touching me....reminding me of who I am................not just who I was...
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2010
We are polar opposites trying to connect,
Walking through a field of land mines.
Sometimes we don't make it through
Without becoming a bit maimed.
I am the steadfast flower in your garden,
The one that always grows back.
Even if abused, I find a way to blossom.
Tethered together by an invisible cord
Our deep love somehow endures.
We knew how different we were before
We felt compelled to share our lives.
We told ourselves opposites attract.
Now as age and illness becomes entwined
We have become shells of our vibrant
Selves who once took on the world united.
I refuse to succumb to the harsh winter
As I cling to the hues of our harvest years.
I will keep it at bay with songs in the sun
Warming both our hearts 'till winter comes.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015
Crown of Sonnets
When orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow
to hold emotions locked in deep repose
in young desire and love warm thoughts will show.
Affection holds its ardor as it grows
to burn inside young hearts in evening tide.
In darkest night the heat will burn and rise
till naked, love's sweet flower blooms inside
and once again my love the past implies.
I'm not the dreaming soul you think you've known,
this willing need that cannot be denied,
is naught if not in love my feeling's grown,
as sad, the winds of change cast hearts aside.
Is not the pain of youth our last great stand
as time, with heavy brow, is nature planned?
As time, with heavy brow, is nature planned,
to start the quest the instant life began.
It ticks each moment past with second hand
through infant life, to youth, and then to man.
The years go by as sequenced seasons pass
and miss each gentle touch of mothers breast.
As hair of grey like waves of grain amass,
we enter life's most cruel and crucial test.
How quick the mind in once unfettered thought
is now but clouds of muddled pother dust,
and as the time moves deep in minds hard fought,
the turning wheels soon slow to so much rust.
No thought for life and love can further grow.
Too soon the beating heart begins to slow.
Too soon the beating heart begins to slow
as passion spent prepares to take its toll,
and shooting stars burn down to subtle glow,
the mind's illusions dream of heart and soul.
Yet warmth and need can still ignite the flame
if sparks in coals of burning love remain.
Though slow the beats count down each ardent frame
our need for touch and fervor we retain.
For what is good without loves sweet caress
on lonely night or stormy sullen day,
to tightly hold each moment we possess
and guard the heart from anger and dismay.
The light of heaven's long goodbye's unplanned
when passion's ember burns the gentle hand.
When passion's ember burns the gentle hand,
so, too, pure hearts can suffer in loves pain.
but lessons taught, no matter how well planned
can lead us down this broken path again.
Emotions find the cracks in crystal yen
then ebb and flow in watered essence's glow,
and grow the seeds of doubt to wonder when
through chinks in life's burst dam our love will flow.
But fill each crack with heart's warm trust and truth
and once again love's flower starts to bloom
like soft bright petals only found in youth,
we feel the sun burn past our time of gloom.
Through life the warmth of pain awaits each day
with flames of love that flicker old and grey.
With flames of love that flicker old and grey
the hope of life's sweet nectar I once gave.
With you in pleasured touch we both would lay
and from my lonely heart my life you'd save.
As time moves on, though wisps of shadows fade,
like honey to the bees love yet tastes sweet
but tender touches lost in dark of shade
remain recalled reflections of conceit.
Let not the scourge of time erase the stain
of need for heated pleasure so ingrained
and loves mosaic tender heart's refrain
then end to end our love we'll share unchained.
As brown the leaves float free from trees unmasked.
but moments gone, as youth filled questions asked.
But moments gone, as youth filled questions asked,
no more of young loves wonder we request,
for in our soul the answers are unmasked
when stars align to find the lover's quest.
In length of day, like shadows, darkness grows
engulfing heaven's promise lost in fear,
and clasp strong hands of those we hold so close
from moistened cheeks we wipe a lonely tear.
No soft and tender touch upon the brow
when, tick, the clock calls out the lonesome hour,
can change the path of fate we follow now,
when life's sweet taste turns bitter, tart and sour.
As we in fervid dusk filled evening lay
the feelings lost to seasons never stay.
The feelings lost to seasons never stay
and life grows cold as little sand remains.
But, o'er the heart the mind has little sway
when strong emotions bleed through burning veins.
Does anger, love or hate in time still lie,
awaiting passion's burning deep inside,
or ease in mellowed thoughts as days go by
to tarry in the place where senses hide?
The smile upon my face may turn in joy
though deep inside my heart my feelings burn
as eddies swirling lost in loves sad ploy
awaiting their frenetic fierce return.
Like comet's tail our hearts burn bright and fast
for in the end it's just one soul that's passed.
Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2016
Crown of Sonnets
For in the end it's just one soul that's passed.
Alone I'll lie in sod of greenest grass
to answer for the sins that I've amassed
at gates of gold I'll see if I may pass.
In to this world I entered all alone
in cold and dark and dank so old I grow,
on thoughts of younger days I bitch and moan
with little hope of changing what I know.
But, now as time reflects upon my skin,
the lines of life grow deep upon my face.
I feel the fear of darkness closing in
and of my soul it leaves but little trace.
So lay my corpse upon this bier stone cold.
The end of life so often is foretold.
The end of life so often is foretold
from storms of pained emotions we retreat.
When colors fade to black as we grow old
we search for gold from rainbows we can cheat.
Through lonely thoughts of our demise we trod,
yet try, we still, to save our lives from dust
With souls we've fore to sold we offer God
if but in his creation he would trust.
In promise lost we bide our time, we cope,
for what remains beyond our short lived lives.
The heaven of our father's faith's our hope,
inside of us is where this hope yet thrives.
Is our eternal faith enough to know,
when cold the winds of fate speak soft and low?
When cold the winds of fate speak soft and low
I hear its voice sing smooth in morning dew
and all of life on wings aloft will go
and fly on breeze of gentle pastel hue.
So sweet the taste of life will linger on
with rainbow flavors left upon the tongue,
like cream filled candy, but too soon it's gone
dissolved like so much piles of beetles' dung,
I know that life is precious as fine gems
reflecting each new moment that we live
with flowers' petals sweet upon their stems
our time in life is all we have to give.
As years in life pass slow like buds in cold
in warmth and light the blooms of time unfold.
In warmth and light the blooms of time unfold
to search through lost emotions is our goal.
In hope that we shall keep from growing old
we capture fading thoughts to keep us whole,
but when the final sunset has gone dark
the memories we cherished are all lost
and only ghostly photos leave the mark
of lives that pass like melting winter frost.
I can not bear the thought of you alone
when life has passed for me and I am gone.
What good of all the sweetness you have known
if lonely night awakes to lonely dawn.
Forever lies I've promised, you will see,
as petals fall, my life will cease to be.
As petals fall my life will cease to be,
yet time goes on without a moment lost
and still the winds of fate persist and blow
without remark or care or pennies cost.
What worth am I but in your care and love
or have I lived my life in selfish need.
I've tried so hard, for you, to rise above
but in your eyes do you just see my greed.
For am I who you wanted me to be,
the perfect man to share my life with you,
or did you wish for me to just be me
and give you love and promise to be true?
When end is near I know in you I'll dwell
in whispered songs of love my heart will quell.
In whispered songs of love my heart will quell
so soft it beats when broken scars are healed
yet pain of loss for you I can't dispel
when left to dream of all that you've revealed.
The secret words of love that you have told
in moments sweet and pleasured touch exposed
to me are bits of life for me to hold
when fantasies of you have been reposed.
Now laid to rest inside my very soul,
I've loved you strong and deep for oh so long
for in my life you've played a leading roll.
Without you dear this life would be but wrong.
Though many words as yet I wish to tell
with tender tears to you, I say farewell.
With tender tears to you, I say farewell,
my sweet, my life, my love, my need, my soul.
From you the one for whom my heart once fell,
this world of pain will now exact its toll
Too soon my corpse in death will lay stone cold
and tears from you will be my sole repose.
The troubadour whose words sing songs so bold,
alas, is left struck mute in death's last throes.
Will loves last flower fade without perfume,
to die unsmelled with human heart's adieu
its fragrant scent to linger in my tomb
or heaven sent, will stay and comfort you?
At end of life my love I hope you'll know,
when orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow.
Life's Fading Light
When orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow,
as time, with heavy brow, is nature planned,
too soon the beating heart begins to slow
when passion's ember burns the gentle hand.
With flames of love that flicker old and grey,
but moments gone, as youth filled questions asked,
the feelings lost to seasons never stay
for in the end it's just one soul that's passed.
The end of life so often is foretold
when cold the winds of fate speak soft to me.
In warmth and light the blooms of time unfold,
as petals fall, my life will cease to be.
In whispered songs of love my heart will quell,
with tender tears, to you, I say ...farewell.
Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2016
Bit Of Truth And Wisdom, Found In Old Age
At that age wisdom says life is a joke
consider blindness of other poor folk.
Stop to ponder why on earth we exist
you may just find giving on that big list.
To live well, love hard and thus procreate
easy to see easier to relate.
Living life together with your soulmate
should be a part of everybody's Fate!
Finding life is not about what you got
should be holding solid, number one spot
Tis more about life lived well and deeper
with one you found, knew to be a keeper
If long life, happiness is your great aim
if reaching not for it, you are to blame!
Robert J. Lindley, 1-16-2017
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017
Ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide
grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passions now abide
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now, alone bereft.
Grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left:
beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide;
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now alone, bereft.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside.
Beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide,
we conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief.
We conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passion now abides,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief,
ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
A message from Emilly
By Angelo Casiano
A message from above to those of you I love.
I love you more than you’ll ever know,
Even more now that I’m gone.
And my love for you will grow and grow,
Like the chorus to a song.
I had to leave much sooner than
I thought, I must admit.
But you know mom, until I’m done,
I’m never gonna quit.
I left behind some parts of me,
I have so much to give.
Because of you I’m strong enough,
to help some others live.
So Daddy when you think of me,
While you watch the Phillies play.
I’ll be sitting next to you. I’ll be with you every day.
You’ve given me the best of you.
And now I’m giving back.
I will love you for eternity. No matter were I’m at.
Copyright © Angelo Casiano | Year Posted 2014
I once had knew a man
Who became older than a dead man
A tired soul, he was.
Looked like he'd never seen a bed
His gray hair resembled a cloudy day,
With fog, and his swollen eyes -
- looked like someone had just punched him in the face
His skin was wrinkled like a dollar bill in a child's pocket
Told to put it in his wallet, but Gosh darn it, he didn't think it
the skin on his face was sagging like the jeans of a teenage delinquent,
Or like borrowing a pair from someone who weighs a hundred more than you
His back was hunched like he was searching for answers that lie upon the ground
He had always kept his walker close to him, it helped him get around.
Too someone else, he may just seem to be an old man
But too me, he is a gold man.
'Cause That's my old man.
Copyright © OP Threat aka God | Year Posted 2017
The Locket (it’s never too late)
She hid in the shadows with tears in her eyes
The locket she wore, she had come to despise
In dangling silver the shape of a heart
What once was a gift now ripped her apart
Alone with her feelings, she crept through the night
Embracing the darkness, fearing the light
Gripping the chain that was cold on her skin
Telling herself that she’d never again
Open the locket for what was inside
Memories that she was now forced to hide
Happier times when her hair was so dark
Running and playing those days in the park
Falling in love at the very first kiss
Ice cream on Sundays, those days she would miss
Merry go rounds and that big Ferris wheel
Moments of joy that she now must conceal
For age had come calling, it stood in her way
Her once lustrous hair, was a light shade of grey
And wrinkles appeared where her beauty once shined
Each look in the locket, just served to remind
For it held a picture of her in her youth
When she was quite young, it presented the proof
A gift from her parents who passed long ago
She thought to discard it but always said no
Her good days were gone, she had left them behind
Just knowing that time has eclipsed her to find
Someone to love her in this later stage
She won’t find affection because of her age
While lost in these thoughts, a voice she did hear
It seemed that a man had just stepped very near
He reached for her arm, oh the fear in her eyes
Then he called her by name, when she realized
He looked so familiar, someone she did know
A face from her past, such a long time ago
And then she remembered, when she was a teen
He was the most handsome boy she’d ever seen
"What are you doing out here in the dark?
You know it’s not safe all alone in the park
I haven’t seen you for many a year,
but now that I do I can see it is clear
You’re just as beautiful as so long before
When I held the secret that you I adore
I kept this photo each day close to me"
He took out the photograph so she could see
It was the picture now locked in the charm
The look on her face showed embarrassed alarm
But then she smiled for she had no choice
A comfort had come at the sound of his voice
"You look no different, I truly must say
You’re just as cute as that first high school day
When I saw you walk in and decided to wait
But here we are now and it’s never too late"
She knew she was blushing a bright shade of red
For all of the wonderful things he had said
Now enjoying the light that shone bright up above
She felt very strange, she was falling in love
"That’s a beautiful locket you wear on a chain"
He reached out and pointed, he didn’t refrain
"It must be quite special," he said with a touch
She said, "It is special, I love it so much"
He then took her hand and off they did go
The future was waiting with good things to show
She looked at the locket, then up to the sky
And whispered a thank you with a tear in her eye
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017
While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.
Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel,
And so before it I choose to kneel.
I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.
I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.
I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.
My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.
Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2012
I might make a noise right now
There will be a time when I go silent
Will you miss my racket?
In those days of silence?
I will no longer yearn for your presence
Like I do at this very moment
Will you wonder?
Will you wish?
For that good morning?
I might be a nuisance right now
I might ask you the same thing over and over
My voice will go silent
All I ask today is be patient with me
Please love me; with your ears
Please love me; with your time
Before all you will have
Is my grave and the memories…
"Thoughts of the aged - loneliness don't discriminate "
Copyright © Wilma Neels | Year Posted 2015
Many years ago, when we were all young,
We really thought life, would be so much fun.
While playing dress-up, trying on mom’s stuff,
Putting on make-up, we found to be tough.
Then came our schooling, and boy things would change,
“Those aren’t our parents”, when they acted strange.
Sometimes they were hip, but old-fashioned too,
That’s something I swore, I would never do.
Wishing you were older, adults had it made,
They would do nothing, yet still would be paid.
That is how little, we all had known,
We surely found out, once we were grown.
Loving the twenties, we’d go out with friends,
When we went shopping, we followed the trends.
Doing what we wanted, and staying out late,
It didn’t matter, what time we all ate.
Then came the thirties, and most of us wed,
Watch what you wish for, my parents had said.
We had to work hard, many bills to pay,
I guess they were right, what more can I say?
Raising your children, was hardest of all,
Needing some advice, your parent’s you’d call.
It seemed so easy, they needed no rest,
So now it’s your turn, you learned from the best.
The forties arrived, that was a shocker,
We’d spend lots of time, just at the doctor.
Back aches and headaches, so tired you’d be,
Trying not to cough, or else you would pee.
The fifties would come, and your grandkids too,
Where were your glasses? You hadn’t a clue.
You searched here and there, and under the bed,
“Hey grandma” they laughed, “They’re right on your head”.
Here come the sixties, now let’s have some fun,
You are retired; your work is all done.
To dinner with friends, you dressed and you wait,
They never show up, you have the wrong date.
Now the seventies, with friends playing games,
If only you could, remember their names.
You try hard to hide, those under-eye bags,
Gravity happens, and everything sags.
Enjoy every day, and have a good laugh,
All the steps you took, led down a new path.
Live life as it comes, each year a new page,
One thing is for sure, everyone will age.
Copyright © Kelly Zakerski | Year Posted 2009
How did a cherry kiss? Bitter flower petals with sweet pistils.
So laden they act as halos while we breathe the love
in a pink hollow, silence sounding like taste, acting like epistle
to hold this moment in a silvery image, like moon, or dove
low, low, a bowl formed while sunshine flickers above.
Chains of yellow petals hang over our deck, the leaves hands--
offer welcome resting branch, our sheltered home.
Seeds follow close, fragile like beans, hard case to feed the land
crawl before God, they say, be grateful as we weed and stir loam.
Together seeds and flowers and hands make a life a poem.
Awaiting the sumac, the flame at summer's ending is fruitless
we've passed the feathering, the pimping of red underneath bristle
the deer horn softness crawling out in oddest places in a mess
lining the sand pond, above the purpled iris, the pestle
of stone and sun, no rain to bring down sumac's fiery trestle.
Vulturous crows squawk and fight the ring-billed sea gulls
waiting, one in the bared hollow hands of the cottonwood
the other fat-bellied and waddling after rain finally dulls
we're under hoodies, under shivers, our neighborhood
waits the pinking and mossing, will it unfurl new wood?
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2014
on this special day
I doest say
that thy mother is of graceful sort
it hath been said she is devine
and I do holdeth this to be true
now dearest mother may I be so bold
to tell you the sun still shinest on one so old
as true as this be
you still grasp your faith
like the roots of a tree
tis said you are wise
and this I have found true
the eye doeth grow deceived when it is drawn upon you
as your thoughts become known
only then your age is shown
Copyright © brandy wassam | Year Posted 2014
My cousin shared her wishes and dreams,
On our star gazing night, she whispered them so sweet
As a shooting star glided down from the sky,
She said, I wish ….. I wish…. all I wish are these tonight
Someday, I will marry a smart, rich and handsome guy
And have a grandiose banquet on my nuptial rite
We’ll be dancing like a lovely prince and princess ,
With all my wedding sponsors on their best suits and dresses
All in pink ,that’s the motif I will surely request.
She kept into her dreams as several years passed by,
Still searching for her prince charming who’s hard to find
Unconsciously going beyond the age to give birth to a child,
In a hurry at age of seventy, she took a rich ninety years old guy.
The wedding was held after a day or two,
The guy seated on his wheelchair with rheumatism on his toe
She headed slowly at the alter to accept his shaking hands,
Two nurses followed, so with sponsors dressed up in printed brown.
The highlight of the wedding rite started at once,
They held tightly with a nebulizers on the other hands,
But the words of oath, they took time to pronounce
False teeth were both misplaced and nowhere to be found.
Reception followed grandiosely in the guy’s mansion,
I saw many old men and women still eager to dance on the floor,
With hunched back, shaking knees, they twisted rock and roll
Then, sweet music played and my cousin danced with her groom.
But, we all wondered how did he stand alone?
He’s so heavy , I knew my cousin couldn’t help him at all,
With our great surprise, his nurse was at his side like his crutch
Everyone thought , he’s really a smart guy! Was he not?
Then, everyone followed them so happily on the spacious hall,
And in trio, they held each other so tight and moved like a fool.
Written: Sept. 15, 2012
Contest: My Cousin's Wedding (funny poem)
Contest Judged: 9/30/2012
Poet Sponsor: Joann Grisetti
Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2012
Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”
Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”
One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But there, to his surprise…
Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”
He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
After the last one was planted, he sniffed it;
Then turned and licked Bob’s face.
Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”
Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.
Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed.
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.
Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he‘d come on the double.
Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray,
“Lord, let this day be my last.”
For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one evening,
Pal quietly passed away.
Bob held Pal in his arms and wept.
“Oh, Pal…my best friend…you saved my life.”
He caressed Pal as he reminisced;
Then, sometime in the night, Bob joined his wife.
The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought fresh flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….
Stood an old dog beside the stone,
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”
He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place.
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then, turned and licked her face.
She smiled through her tears.
“I had a dog when I was young...
A good one too. His name was Pal.”
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
Little Innocence was forged into the world
A shrill Sound flickered around the expecting eyes
Laughter carved out of marble
A statue thought to beat immortality
Yet Fear had a surprise
It crept into the cradle with ease
Laughter was choked
Tears burst instead
And Sadness had a form
Evil found in youth a red soil
Jealousy marched with Envy
Lust befriended Desire
Until cupid threw a bunch of arrows
Excitement beyond description
A Thrill with no past
Sentiments were aroused
Pride threw some words
Ego played its part
And when Love meddled to defend its territory
The Heart bled in utter silence!
© Guru Jad 2013
Copyright © Guru Jad | Year Posted 2013
A swimming cloud became the mist;
our morning peace stirred inner light.
Before the sun rose ending night,
our honesty lit passion’s flight.
We met sea crests as morning kissed
a gently rolling shore of gulls,
white-wings seeking sea’s tranquil lull
as dawn’s light winked on distant hulls.
Soft sands of gold, our walks I’d missed.
To cradle love at break of day,
we once began each day this way,
before our golden years turned gray.
Now, hands entwined, we reminisce.
Our laughter breaks the silent dawn.
Fond memories I thought long gone,
come flooding back to carry on.
I want for nothing more than this -
our worlds collide, a second chance.
With children grown, a new romance,
upon our beach, rekindled dance.
A swimming cloud became the mist;
we met sea crests as morning kissed
soft sands of gold; our walks, I'd missed.
Now hands entwined, we reminisce.
I want for nothing more than this.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
Cessation the love
Household has been scattered
When love lost
Humming in the community
Malicious gossip in the society
Disorder in the society
Degrading the society
Society has been scattered
When love lost
Humming in the state
Malevolent rumour in the state
As the day chameleon to night
Insomnia in state
Peace elude state
State has been scattered
When love lost
Mystery to nation
When love lost
Oh! It is a dream
Why do we stop loving
While love exist
Love is above all existent
Copyright © Afolabi Muideen | Year Posted 2015
Once again, the powers that must
In rise again in what we trust
An overseas conflict, another war
Just what in the hell are we fighting for
Families are asking, Korea has just passed
Generations again reft, how long will it last
A country in need, to rebuild again
Flags at half mast, in wind and rain strain
Once again into war, sent by the Washington Post
To send back reports to hit home the most
Military observers were the first to be sent in
Another chapter of man entering existing sin
I'm witnessing our ariel power, Lam Son 719
US planners determine their incursion, saying all will be fine
Along the Mekong River, we'll carpet bomb their supply trail
Tons of munitions and napalm, this spread surely cannot fail
Many sorties are being flown, for the wounded and the dead
Whilst Nixon and his cronies, aren't thinking with their heads
The news of losses has reached me, nineteen have been killed
Eleven missing, fifty nine wounded, more American blood spilled
Seven fixed wing aircraft, more sons in action loss
Whilst back at home more protests, fading the dyeing's gloss
To to this job that I do, I was never prepared for this
To witness such bloody scenes, and ignore that life is bliss
How can I write about a soldier, whose name I'll never know
Killed at nineteen years old, his family he'll never see grow
Or even explain to his parents, when carried from the AH-1
His body bullet riddled and limp, when lifted it bloodily run
I never went back to the theatre, called the Vietnam War
Having witnessed the wanton killing, what were we fighting for
This colonial conflict that started, us on the side of France
So many came back as strangers, many to live in trance
James Fraser's entry into the contest " WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM "
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2011
As we step closer to our final door,
when words succumb to days of restless sleep,
and dance retreats into a stiffened creep,
I wonder, will you love me even more?
For I will answer with my final breath,
that I will love you more on coldest night
as outer beauty dims to inner light
when aging hands entwined do embrace death.
Tis easier to love in summer heat,
while springtime of our love does not yet slip
from thoughts and dew still moistens our warm lips.
Our June days liven blooms beneath our feet!
But autumn days will fade to wintry snow
as surely as my love for you will grow.
For Mystic's How Do I Love Thee? Contest, 2/22/16
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2016
The glamour of her skin faded
like late-afternoon sunbeams
that settled on rose petals 'dust
But , not the light in her wide chatoyant eyes
That light was still glowing bright
Like a freshly washed white frock of an ingenue child
A child who knew, each flutter of a butterfly churning deep inside
was to be preserved for this ineffable day.
Today , the day She was to greet 'the one '
Down the valley , by the orchid tree
where minutes ticked seconds and time.
For so long , She waited for this moment
to turn and find him there , to look him in those eyes
Eyes circled with wrinkles of loss and laughter
of many deaths and life.
His demure maiden . The cynosure who filled his thoughts
without even knowing how or why , For weeks, months, and years
Was She there by his side ,or was this another betraying vision
of the lissome lady's smile ?
It was her voice . It was the mellifluous sound of her song
lulling him into sleep.This was not Endymion's dream
Nor an unheard wish on spumes of falling stars.
This was the warmth of his breath upon her neck's nape
It was their once so vacant hearts , beating one to one.
It was their holding of hands, their first promised dance.
A panacea to a long term desease of loss , and loss again.
A new chapter -to be continued.
A sempiternal journey of what little time remains.
Trembling hands ,Scribbling verses on hopskotch
Alll ending with the same repeated names
and unforgettable joyous refrains.
Thanks for the ten words challenge S.One
1) Glamour , 2) Chatoyant, 3) Igenue , 4) ineffable , 5) demure
6) Sempiternal , 7) panacea, 8) mellifluous, 9 )lissome , 10) cynosure
Who wants to know the meaning of all these ten words
pls read S. One 's ten word challenge poem.
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2016
What is this cane? What is this pain? I remain.
Within my house, mirrors complain, I remain.
My spring gone by, summer was dry, and now what?
The winter cold, my life disdain, I remain.
The sounds are dim, the sight is gone, the grey hair;
Nothing feels right, crying like rain, I remain.
My nights veil fear, the end is near and so death;
Within each step a major strain, I remain.
What is this life? Suddenly changed, mere lies;
The things I loved never sustain, I remain.
My youth is gone, the thing is left is called pain.
The life of pain it’s so mundane, I remain.
Nothing seems real, bitterness reveal, and so!
What else can do? If you explain, I remain.
Tell me “Haloo” from this life what I should seek?
It’s only love that will remain, I remain.
Give me a Ghazal poetry contest
sponsored by: Timothy Hicks
Copyright © Pashang Salehi | Year Posted 2016
Did our Age of Aquarius evaporate,
fail to regenerate,
fall too far short of what our parents
knew we should anticipate?
Free love could not sustain
weak non-violent resolutions against
whatever busyness was for.
Yet, if love is synergy,
and creation is this co-passion's regenerate transgeneration,
how could love cost more than free?
How could co-redemption not invest everything
in learning how to cooperatively Be,
free of enslaving supremacist becoming,
free to come together as ecological We?
Those who stop to count these costs of love,
look for ways to divest of co-opportunity,
ignoring Earth's mentoring economy
of light's photosynthetic comprehensive consciousness,
of neutral's dark unconsciousness,
a fog bank evaporating as double-binding time and rhythm
pattern and color RNA's free-fractal love connection.
If Time's eternal unfolding presence is 0-dimensional,
and Nature's bicameral perception is 2-dimensional prime,
bicameral form with function,
ego emerging from eco,
yang incarnating double-yin,
reiterative communicative processors
borrow RNA's decomposing 3-space with 1-time prime bilateral dimensions,
Shy winterish Uracil of Universal freely decomposing love
greets Cytosine's full summer-formed regeneration,
as objectives greet their past and future subjects;
while Adenine painlessly springs
for Guanine's lavishly com-posted integrative harvest,
as verbs form fractal-recycling nouns,
verbal con-science revolutions,
relearning Earth's organic language,
by echoing universal polypathic syntax.
Universal monocultural power of governance
becomes a Left-brained dominant and reductive tyrant,
an Emperor reified of clothes
to cool His naked Ego-thirst.
when power remains integral within co-passionate,
synergetic uniting cooperatism,
then naked power conjoins dark yin-time-ations,
shy bigendering romantic camouflage,
re-birthing this post-millennial
Age of Aquarius.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
Delights of Love
Secrets of the garden are unexpressed delights,
lovers share in sweetness that’s near to paradise.
To see your love's visage, pleasing joy of the eyes,
the cherished persona of your true treasured prize,
and have a joy of heart, where fondness truly lies.
The melody of love is the voice of a kiss,
that follows with a sigh, which is eternal bliss.
Copyright © Janis Thompson | Year Posted 2016
Where the hell’s my glasses
I can’t see where your ass is
I can't even see what became of all my hair
Can’t seem to recall
One single thing at all
What is this thing for, and which end goes in where
Well I’m glad you’re a keeper
You couldn’t be much sweeter
You won’t ever leave me, you’ll never break my heart
I like how you rub me
But will you still love me
Even half as much when everything else falls apart
The only thing that’s rising
Is lately my blood pressure
You know I got to take it easy, like you always say
Everything else falls
Everything else sags
Can’t you see I’m getting way more wrinkles every day
for Darren and Penny
Copyright © Mike Martin | Year Posted 2016
Between happiness and sadness
—silence; an angel prays:
I kiss the loneliness of old people,
their temples like handfuls of winter;
are used baggage,
memories speak to them,
they smile and
tell me stories from their youth
silence passes unspoken
—they remember the dead.
I kiss the loneliness from their temples
and sadness lifts from their mouths.
From my first book: 'In Forbidden Language'
©dah / Stillpoint Books 2010
all rights reserved
Search Amazon Books: "in forbidden language/dah"
Copyright © Dah Helmer | Year Posted 2014
She was beauty, softness and she was grace.
She was loves maintained, ever giving face.
She was forgiveness in gesture soothing pace.
She trimmed my self-worth with maternal lace.
She was my one dependable home place.
Forever, I will gratefully bear her trace.
Now eight decades render her most changed.
No longer is joy or logic found in her campaign.
She clutches bitterness to allow its reign
as though bitter be her only lifetime gain.
She seems to fist, produce and seed blame.
She bruises the past with a grim, ugly stain.
How I miss and desire the woman I knew
whose wisdom aided me on and through.
I long for the laughter that would ensue
whenever we gathered alone, just us two.
I cry for the woman I always turned to
whenever I was joyous, confused or blue.
She is my beloved Mother and she is not.
My best attempts fail as her remedy sought.
I break in dark pieces seeing her so caught
in the bitter web of resentment’s sick plot.
I know not if karma fated her this distraught
or what spiritual truth may ease both our knots.
... CayCay Jennings
November 30, 2016
Copyright © CayCay Jennings | Year Posted 2016
I look at her and I can see
a woman approaching slowly
the land of old age, her
night-black hair invaded by
lonely grey strands, stragglers
of an approaching army, a
relentless force built over
sixty years, stealing bits of
her beauty, loosening her
skin, lightening her bones.
I now can easily see the old woman
she will become, and while I miss her
light-stepping, insouciant youth
which pulled both heart and body,
at last I can hear love's secret sound
as she draws my soul ever closer.
Copyright © L. J. Carber | Year Posted 2015