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
Their petals are falling as their colors change
It wasn’t this way before but is it strange?
These roses are dying in delicate sweet sorrow
Will their love shed too? Or will it see tomorrow?
Petals and love falling slow like soft snowflakes
A little change in season is all it takes,
But will these roses bloom again in a new morn?
Will their love come back to greatly adorn?
Will their beauty be gone forever once it fades away?
Or will it come back to make everything okay?
For what will the roses be worth if their beauty dies forever?
Will the image and value from them permanently sever?
Will the light in their eyes suddenly become dark?
As their splendor and significance steadily grow stark?
Or will they rise like light at the beginning of dawn?
And be reborn more beautiful than a swan?
Copyright © Literrius Miller | Year Posted 2013
I Love the elderly
so full of history
I love my generation
who kept me a mystery
I love the children
who's future, now bright
for I have died for them
to capture the light
for i understand
pain more than ever
once I released it
the anger got better
as it went away from the people
and into my music
without a single
reason to prove it
without a reason
to let Love's light in
I didn't, it found me
and lesser I sin
God and my father
both let me know
it would all be okay
so very long ago
even tho the road
would be full of pricks
even back then I'd tell them
you can all suck my dick.
Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013
I have that wish in my heart
many of you must have the same,
a disease free healthy world
forget all those cursed names.
Many of you must have the same
a dream of disease free world,
forget all those cursed names
let that joyful world unfurled.
A dream of disease free world
where people love to live,
let that joyful world unfurled
where everyone is ever active.
Where people love to live
children forget curse of pain,
where everyone is ever active
no disease to drive insane.
Children forget curse of pain
old age ceases to be a problem,
no disease to drive insane
everybody a winner in life's game.
Old age ceases to be a problem
a disease free healthy world,
everybody a winner in life's game
I have that wish in my heart.
Placement: 3rd; (December 2011)
Contest:Your Christmas Miracle
By :kashinath karmakar
Copyright © kash poet | Year Posted 2011
Bubbling brown ridges strike
The confining dimensions in a hostile yawn:
Walk the world no longer, an ending beckons,
A precipice builds moments where swallows wager wings
On new seed: New breeds.
Falling buys the assurance of seconds
From a sinking well.
Remember us when the globe begins to slip,
Bang drums for our pity:
Our crescendos mean less than meaningless.
And then, when spheres crack, continue
On the whorl of a thumb,
Stretching hope to nothing.
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
A DROP OF TEA
Dawn lays down a carpet of light
Curtains of rain gather on the wind
Lift and swirl
On nature and day
As they make their way down
To hold the ground in place
Some drops fall after a time
Through an imposing hole in the ancient cabin
Formed by a meteor at some distant point in time
The structure receives them one by one
They fill a cup
Stationed atop a hot wood stove
A boiling point arrives
To serve the drops of day
In time for a good morning
And a spot of tea
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
Dear Dear Heart.
A Valentines poem
You stayed strong through thick and thin
you stayed and helped me through.
I'd be six feet under ground
if it hadn't been for you.
You warned me time and time again
that you couldn't take much more.
But I would turn and go back to
where we had been before.
You taught me the way to heal
is to learn to love again.
I know times that it was you
to need reminded now and then.
It ain't been an easy road
as we took turns in the lead.
Laying there by you by me
we watched each other bleed.
Sometimes it seems I couldn't hear
the things you tried to say.
Then there we go back in again
where it's you that had to pay.
I know you doubt what comes from me
when I say I've learned a lot.
I swear to you these words are true
I know you're all I got.
Still one thing remains undone
and that's where I've got to start.
Have a happy Valentines Day
to you my dear, dear heart.
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015
The Rage,The Destruction And Miracle Of The Light
The world shook- great and mighty waters then parted,
forests smashed,caves imploded,mountains were broken;
sky cracked,moon flew away,he laughed as earth cried
yet this fearsome dark God's anger did not subside!
He spoke- then seas started boiling,huge clouds exploding,
rocks moaning in saddened wails,Nature begging;
trees falling,mud baking,and fish cooked in solid ice,
yet still his hard,raging heart was in a massive rage !
He filled rivers- with red blood,wishes with sharp thorns,
hopes with most intensive agony,hearts with lead ;
curse upon innocent living and the long sleeping dead,
and still hate filled his ripping,seething mighty mind!
Next he ate- the meadows,spit on the world's beauty,
stomped the valleys,tore the pained world asunder;
savaged the creatures,burnt the dreams,stabbed love,
defeated the imagination and killed the happy songs!
Still no mercy- filled his hate-filled and icy cold veins,
he kicked the unborn innocence,let loose the darkness;
blasted and burnt the weak and slaughtered the brave,
and still much more he hatefully dared to now do!
Halt Dark One- this my command you must now start to obey!
Then out boomed- this mightier voice with righteous anger,
light spread across the weeping world,forests regrew;
seas reborn and dark skies awoke to clear sunny days,
rocks reformed,meadows soon appeared,songs now heard!
Hope was given- its holy miracles back,love was restored,
mountains reformed,fish restocked,valleys replenished;
people inspired with love and faith,moon swiftly returned,
hearts were reborn,imagination given a new deeper birth!
Thus said this God of Light- darkness now flee far away,
return only when I give thee that needed brief respite;
I the Master of Light,will hold sacred this great holy day,
Earth prospers and your dark power of hate I now slay!
Robert J. Lindley
Note-- I left this poem sitting unfinished(a fragment)for 3 long years,
only to return again to finish it .
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
When Virgins Emerge
Virgins dwell on celibacy when they emerge
Even though the agenda might stray to setting dynamite
To lighting candles, eating celery, and hanging everything in sight
Displaying imaginary tiny toys and boys with strings and hooks
Around their necks as ornaments
Christmas trees come to mind
Virgins begin to find their spirits under there
Surprises give thier rise to blossoming
All Incongruities abound and bounce
Like Easter bunnies, they multiply rapidly in Spring
Such women naturally adapt
Are adept at math
Virgins lie and wait
If thoughts could think
Puritanical thoughts would starve for food
Suffocate from education
No need for birth control
Being pure of soul
No need for debate
Or hesitation concerning masturbation
Convenience stores will do just fine
When women explode into the universe
To find their feminine side
Unwind, have a smoke, a child or two
Virgins don’t just converge, they merge with it
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
A luminescent streak across the night sky.
Adrift, my youth has left me.
Copyright © Adam Lefaivre | Year Posted 2016
The Lost Years
Edie looks well for her age,
Hard to believe she’s almost 94.
A widow wife these past 72 years,
Lost husband Bill, in the 2nd World war.
Bill was presumed killed in action,
Though his body, was never found.
Silently she grieved all these years,
Was he lying, in unmarked ground?
Edie lives in a small country cottage,
In the High Peak town of Glossop.
Moved from Ashton in the Fifties,
To work in the local Hosiery shop.
Two siblings, Jean and Tommy Joe
Good friends, who love her dear.
Whist Drive and Dom’s in the Feathers,
A Natter and glass of Stout beer.
Bingo at the Workers on Sunday,
You’d be surprised how often she’s won.
A feisty, keenly independent lady,
An old girl who likes to have fun.
Edie often asked herself the question;
Why did they send her Bill to fight?
A proud and gallant young soldier,
She often felt something, wasn’t right.
One icy cold night after Bingo,
Edie slipped and fractured her wrist.
A short stay in Tameside General,
A break from the Feathers and the Whist.
She met an old man in the day room,
Who appeared to catch her stare,
Watching TV with a foot in plaster,
“Two broken bones, don’t we look a pair”.
Badly injured and barely conscious,
Gilbert was nursed by a couple in Dieppe.
They guessed that he was English,
Falling exhausted at their doorstep.
Eleven long years they cared for him
Before they sadly passed away.
Loving, adoptive French parents,
Made ready, his liberation day.
Gilbert doesn’t recall, life before the war.
Left Dieppe for Manchester, Summer of ‘55.
In a curious, Mancunian French accent,
Would say “I’m just thankful to be alive”.
Although he barely spoke English,
He was drawn to the Lancashire hills.
Learnt a trade in Timothy White’s,
and a lifetime of dispensing pills.
Gilbert lives at Ashton Grove Residential,
A home befitting this Bachelor King.
No one really knows how old he is,
But he can certainly joke, dance and sing.
One night he tripped upon his stage,
Falling awkward, he broke his left foot.
A short stay in Tameside General,
Protested, but knew he must stay put.
EDIE & GILBERT
Edie and Gilbert would talk for hours,
During their rather impromptu stay.
As if they’d known each other forever
In some emotional, perceptive way.
Gilbert had lost his early years,
But reflected of a full and wonderful life.
Edie was gracious and contented,
Despite 72 years, a widow wife.
Edie was as giddy as a school girl,
As she listened to Gilberts romancing.
In adversity had never felt happier,
Her young heart, ready for dancing.
He smiled in a way she’d remember,
Of a time that made her heart fill.
Smiling back, put her hand to his face,
and with a tearful eye asked;
“is that you Bill”?
Copyright © Kevin Shaw | Year Posted 2017
MIRACLE OF CHILDHOOD REGAINED
Snow - my dream miracle,
To me has always called, never cold.
Serenely reposing, softly refreshing
Like flowing water over a low weir.
Submerging sharp corners; edges are softened.
New world, renewed, unspoiled. Pure tabula rasa.
Long-sought Eden garden emerging
From the child-dreams I was forbidden to enter
By the sentries: teachers, church, ancient granny,
By cold forces choking my green growth -
Dowdy fields, old trees, dirty walls
Now freshly-baptised to pure brightness;
Factory dumps, rusted hulks, rows of soulless cellars,
Now mantled white in fairytale shapes from a Christmas card.
I feel small again in snow, always did:
Impossible become possible: childhood regained.
Other poems of mine, similar to this, are available at
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2016