Bereavement Sister Poems

These Bereavement Sister poems are examples of Bereavement poems about Sister. These are the best examples of Bereavement Sister poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |
My sister says
               my father was a good man --
but, how should I, 
                        who never "knew" him
    (except as a far-from-good man)
          buy her stories?
                        Am I, the last child
   of that union, 
              too, too judgmental?
     Too far removed in time from 
                              what she knew 
    and now recalls?
My memory is of a different man, 
              who died when I was twenty-two:
       one rarely present, never talking, 
often jailed,
                      unsupportive -- 
  someone I really never knew.
He was no bearer of familial tales, 
              no imparter of the history
                       now I only wish I'd heard...
Obviously, we differ about  
          what constitutes a "good man".
He never seemed, to me, to feel that he
      needed to provide the basics --
                  food, shelter, clothing, health care --
  to his offspring -- and he almost never did......
         I do remember how he staggered 
            on the street,
                             fell off of curbs, 
sought shelter 
                       and often could be found
asleep -- or at least 
                  stretched out unconscious --
                                          in some vacant lot; 
how he was driven to forage 
                                   frenziedly about for beer, 
or only Gallo muscatel 
                          (thirty-five cents for the flask).
Should I not ask 
                what makes my sister think
                         I could remember him as does she?
In such a different light?
                                   As victim,
                                        and maligned by inlaws
                or by circumstance?
All I know is what I do remember,
               what I survived
                           when she and others,
 grown, were gone.
 I do not think 
                that I can change
                                 or accept 
(nor in absentia, forgive) --
                        and, no, I do not yet
 believe what my sister says.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2017

Details | I do not know? |

End-Cut Prime Rib of Beef,  
Crab-cake, Lobster Tail,
Sea Scallops.

I feel — no — need to, 
eat those foods 
you asked I get you. 

So I scour the internet 
for upscale Manhattan 
restaurant menus, listing, 
first and foremost,
roast prime rib of beef, 

confident, if I find that, 
the seafood items 
will appear on at least one 
of them, also. 

It’s the Post House,
on East 63rd Street,
that has everything.
And, on this day, 
the 1st anniversary
of your death, 

I’m eating the foods 
you craved, yet, I do not 
savor a morsel. But 
not to worry, Renee, 

for next year, same
date, I’ll try again, and 
maybe, just maybe, 
I’ll find it easier to enjoy 
what you surely would have, 

if only I’d realized there was 
no time left. No time left, 
as I held your hand and 
watched American Idol.

while you morphed into what-
ever it is one becomes 
at death. 


I muse if Robert Frost
had taken the other road, 
would he have moved to
England, where 
his poetry was a hit
from the get-go; 

would he have remained, 
the constant farmer, or 
teacher, or journalist
he been, rather than 

the bard who'd crafted 
the simplest words 
into mysterious, 
memorable poems; 

and the father who
couldn’t prevent 
his children’s deaths; 

not the husband 
who couldn’t keep
his wife from sinking 
deep into depression.

Renee, every day, since
your death, I think about 
what I could’ve done 
and should not have done 
as your sister, your twin. 

How I’d sat on my laurels 
and let you navigate 
on your own, with me 
never wholeheartedly
trying to steer away
from conflict with you. 

Me, who found it too hard
staying involved in that life 
of yours. Truth be told, 
if I'd seen two diverging roads 
to choose from, way back when 

— neither the worse for wear, 
I would’ve sought you out — 
asked you which one you’d take 
if you were me, and surely 
I’d have taken the other.

Copyright © Ruth Sabath Rosenthal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Daddy you and Cheryl are always in my dreams

Is it that your spirits are visiting me as it seems,

Some times I wake up and I am crying

The dreams are so real I forget you both maybe trying,

To tell me something and yet it is hard to make sense of it

I guess I want to know why it is you both just sit,

Just sitting calm in the dreams and I try to understand

But, I know if you do talk I am to listen very close as you take my hand.

Written By: Unique Poetry 2015

Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |
Has anyone seen my sister out there?

She's the little girl with the dark brown hair.

I am eight and she is three and we like to play hide and seek, you see.

This time she hid much better than last.

But finally I found her, just not quite as fast.

Has anyone seen my sister out there?

She's the third grader with the dark brown hair.

I am fourteen and she is nine and she wanted to play with my friends and I.

But because we are older and more mature,

She felt left out and got her feelings hurt.

She ran away but I'm afraid she'll get lost,

I left to go find her even if losing my friends was the cost.

Finally I found her, she made it home, but she was mad and told me to leave her alone.

Has anyone seen my sister out there?

She's the teenager with the dark brown hair.

I am twenty-one and she is sixteen and it's hard to keep track of a newly driving teen.

I wanted to spend some time, just her and me,

But she is always with friends and has places to be.

I finally found her, she was hanging out with friends. 

Luckily I know that this phase will soon end.

Has anyone seen my sister out there?

She's the gorgeous little lady with the dark brown hair.

I am twenty-four and she is nineteen, we have become best friends at this age, you see.

Our days are chaotic with work and school,

But at the end of the day we come home and talk it through.

My sister and I have shared this life, the ups and downs and even some strife. 

She knows my soul and can make me laugh.

She's my friend for life and always has my back.

But one summer night something felt wrong,

My sister wasn't home yet, she was taking too long.

My sister went away to a place in the sky,

But I still look for her in each day that goes by.

Has anyone seen my sister out there?

She's the beautiful angel with the dark brown hair.

Copyright © Sara Mattingly | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |
                            When you lose a sister there are no words to describe,
                             The emptiness and pain your heart holds inside.

                               Your best friends gone in the blink of an eye,
                                Without any warning she has just died.

                                   Remembering the past as the years drift through,
                                    It seems they would get easier, but they never do.

                                     The only thing that will really keep you sane,
                                       Is knowing in heaven you'll see her sweet face again.

Copyright © Monica Barrows | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
Big Sister, 
Little Brother

Big sister
Little brother
At play
First day
Of school
She takes
His hand
Shows him
The way
From home

Big sister
Little brother
Grows up
Passes away
He takes
Her hand
Shows her
The way
To home

Dedicated to
James C Kroll
May 3, 1946 - Jan 28, 2016

Copyright © Kathleen Kroll | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |
Sister. No sweeter sounding word
Ever spoken. Ever heard

Two flowers growing on one tree
Bestowed with beauty equally

Two moonbeam smiles hand-in-hand
Secrets shared in fairyland

Younger shadow mirrors the older
Little girl tears on a big girl's shoulder

Lives diminished without your guidance
I am your sister, I carry your silence

Four pillars prevail, one father, one mother
I am one sister and you are the other

Copyright © Sarah Heath | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

The pink flower that is called a carnation
I received a sad but yet odd invitation,

To a get together with all my family and no strangers
It seemed nice knowing there was no danger,

Why does everyone have a pink carnation
Is the color a symbol of elimination,

I feel at ease in a sad sort of way
I don't believe this was suppose to be a happy day,

As I went further in to the candle lit room
I have a sense of a pass life that ended in gloom,

When I look around the room I see so many pink carnations
I know now deep inside these beautiful flowers mean it is a final destination.

Written By: Unique Poetry 2009

Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |
Tonight my heart is full, but my hands just can't type, and I wonder if you ever where even all right. A few times I noticed your heart on your sleeve, all the time actually, it didn't really I leave.I take a deep breath, in and out again, and I know deep down you were my best friend. Why did you cry so hard for so damn long, and why I keep hearing our same ol' songs? Everywhere I go is a reminder of you, I can't sneak in cuz' your memory peeks through. To be so talented and throw it all away, and to think your loved ones, couldn't make you stay. Today I was riding my bike and saw a white butterfly, of course I thought of you, and wanted to cry. I look to the left and then to the right, and then have crazy real dreams about you all night. Sounds frightening, doesn't it kind of? Well, its all the time, cuz' I always miss your love. Your love was strong and too deep for this world. People got scared and all moved forward. Why were we so alike? But so different at the same time??? We sang our own songs, but none of them rhymed. I'm so inclined to be real, but hide with a smile, am I am who I am, or am I just in denial? Wherever you are I'm sure your free, but you went away and didn't take me. You forgot me like yesterdays coffee and tomorrow's dew, my grass was green and I don't think you even knew that it grew for no one..except you. There are few and very far far between, us and us and you and me. You said goodbye, but I didn't know it was for good, I just never thought you ever really could. Go through with your damn plan to make everyone so afraid, to love you and need you, maybe then you would've stayed? Cuz' sleeping without you in my bed, creeps me out and messes with my head. Go far away now, fly far from here...deep down all you knew was sadness and fear. I needed you and you broke my fragile heart, I still hear your voice and the memories, They start. Flashing through floods, my eyes are so blind, searching from within, what did you really find? Cuz' I'll tell you what I saw, who you really were..Genuine and loyal and a friend to the world. A smiling face outside, and sadness behind your laugh, you used to be so funny, whatever happened to that?? You remain in my soul, and still take away my breath...And I'm dealing with so much stuff because of your death. You were up and you were down and one thing is for broke our damn hearts and I can't be sad were the one..but now baby...I'm all done...

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Loss (2/11/2014)

It is a stone that cannot be lifted
Planted into the earth of the soul.

Buried under the cat that he drove over 
Pressing it into the ground in the ridges of the tractor tire.
And the jungle gym of his arm that I swung under
Long hair, laughing.
And tongue sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, an old apple
Brought in a brown bag to the field at noon.
Shouts and a broken plate, his fist to my face.
And his hands under his head folded in worry.  
The girl he loved was getting away.
A single red rose in a small crystal vase 
on her concrete steps.
Talking on the green couch downstairs of the past
Of the future.
And the letters from San Francisco, 
The letters from Carolina, 
The letters from Japan,
Begging for baked goods and promises not to enlist. 
The launch off the rope swing into the Missouri,
Profanities screamed over the current into the bright sky.
The stick to Harley’s leg for one more day.
Sneaking out my bedroom window
Drinking a bottle of rum in the tent in the front yard
In a marijuana haze.
My white dress, dancing, his blue and gold uniform,
My manicured nails in his hands and his head over my shoulder
Tears on my back.
And the new girl who wore her own white dress.
And his eyes reflected in his sons
Tiny pieces of him in his arms.
His voice so gentle, so close to them.
Jumping and screaming, laughing bedtimes, 
Children being thrown upside down 
Tickles and goodnights in the nightlight
The darkness in the windows waiting.
Cold beers on the front porch, 
The hum of the crickets call 
To the moon.

Dirt on a stone, 
Dirt on a stone.

Copyright © Rosann Fode | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballade |
A frustration that can cannot be abated,
Knives flashing in the blindingly brilliant Sunshine.
Blood drops spattered across the delicate petals 
of white roses clutched in a child's small fist.
horror lances through her body it reacts before her mind does,
all the years of self control suddenly break away,
a woman sits only in a peaceful garden,
not at peace, but thoughts whirling like a deep
malovolent tornado,
as she thinks about the lonely years,
of that little girl that lurks beneath the
surface wanting ,needing, and waiting for
a god to be able to reunite her with now,
 her mother, sister, and older loving overprotective brother.

Copyright © Cheyenne Nienhueser | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |
The clock on the wall chimes Christmas songs of good cheer
It was a gift from my sister who is no longer here
When I sit here and listen to the music from the clock
As I often do I think of all the fun things that we used to do
And all the happy memories that we once shared
And the bond that we had and how much we cared
I thank the Lord for giving me a sister that was my best friend
And I will always remember her until we meet again

Copyright © Veronica Aicher | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
Last Rite of Passage
(for Elizabeth) 30th January 03:11am

Through towering colonnades of stars
She rises with the daybreak's fire,
As angels strum on lute and lyre
And frost sparkles like fractured glass;

And when dark clouds have filled your eyes
Pray do not yield to let them cry;
For she is where the white doves fly
Amid the glades of Paradise.

Copyright © Sara Louise Russell | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
I didn't get to keep my sister
To hold her, to love her
I didn't get to see her eyes

I didn't get to watch her grow
To get mad at her
because she was into my stuff!

I didn't get to have a friend
That would always be there
To share secrets, to cry with

I didn't get to know what it's like
To walk with our arms linked
To share sorrow, to be one together

I didn't get to see my sister
They came home without her
They put her in my brother Danny's care

I didn't get to say hello or good-bye
But at least I know
My baby sister waits for me

Copyright © Margi Spurgeon | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |
>Someone I know not who walked over my grave today

It started on my local BBC Radio.
It really did you know.
A question was just asked it’s true.
What was the nicest thing ever said to you?

I did not have to think of an answer.
To this question asked on our local BBC radio.
The one that struck me off their Facebook page.
They really did, you know.

I shall not ring them up.
I will not tell them so.
As if I do, I really know.
My voice will sadly go.
I can write it down.
As none can see my tears flow.
I wish I had not heard that question.
I really do you know.

My sister Alma was dying.
She was younger than me.
She was only fifty-four.
Two years younger, you see.

When we were young times are hard.
To a children’s home was sent.
For three years, we were together.
Then to different foster homes were sent.
Of course, no one would tell me.
As separation, at the home was made.
And after a little while playing  with her.  
I was not allowed to play.
And that made us both afraid.
Then the seed was planted.
We had no related plaids.

It was through my sister’s insistence.
When, finally she was in a loving foster home.
She pestered her foster mother saying.
‘Who was that boy who played with me in the children’s home?’
Her persistence finally paid off.
Her foster mother did find me.
We had many happy years visiting.
At least, that’s what she said to me.
But the nicest thing she ever said.

Was, ‘Stanley, I am so pleased I found you.’

Then Cancer took Alma away you know.
Now I must stop as cannot see, as my tears oh so flow...<

Copyright © STANLEY Harris | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
When small I delighted in annoying Betty whenever I could.
She'd sit in a shady spot beneath my tree with a book,
An easy target for me up above; Betty never understood 
Me then; and she often gave me that 'elder sister look,'
But she never went far away and that felt good.
I laughed; she jumped when things on her I shook!
If ever I showed I was scared, and quite unplanned,
Betty would come to me and hold my hand.

She was five years my elder; at Lynchet Cottage a bedroom we shared.
Memories of frequent, whispered conversations.
Of frogs in beds; misunderstandings; wild chases; and tempers flared;
A plethora of family days with our relations;
Green-eyed Betty; beautifully slim and auburn-haired;
When nightmares struck, she looked in consternation, 
Cared enough to take the time, and quite unplanned,
Betty would come to me and hold my hand.

High days, holidays, time flew fast, shared moments, joys, tears, mirth,
Plymouth, memories flicker past, we grew, loved, wed, and gave birth.
Older, closer, how long did our phone calls last? Betty'd understand,
I held her, as she died, quite unplanned; it was my turn to hold her hand.

Copyright © Mavis Jackson | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
(I am a singer and song writer and play guitar, so this is a song/poem I wrote for my big sister who died in a car crash. r.i.p becky xx)

As the church seats filled
more came in, the streets they filled
and as they watched the white casket lifted by her brothers
they hung their heads and cried
she was gone, only her spirit remained
now laid to rest, to young to die
above the weeping they played her favourite song
whispers lingered the same five words "I cant believe she is gone"

fly, fly, fly away
spread your wings
and fly, fly, fly
Wings, Wings, Wings of a dove
released to the heavens
let them fly, fly, fly

My sister, she was my blood
and as I walked behind the pall bearers footsteps
I left a trail of tears
and when my turn came to say a few words
I looked at my brothers
and then the tears on the face of my mother
I hung my head and watched as the pen marked paper ran into smudges
its time to forgive her for leaving, hold no more grudges

fly, fly, fly away
spread your wings
and fly, fly, fly
Wings, Wings, Wings of a dove
released to the heavens
let them fly, fly, fly

When the hearse drove away from the church that day
I watched as my sisters daughter ran to chase her
I held her back, and held her close, my heart just lingered
she soaked my clothes with tears, a little girl so numb
heart wrenching words she yelled "come back don't leave me mum"
but as we each held a white dove, we raised it to the skys
said goodbye becky - spread your wings and fly, fly, fly

fly, fly, fly away
spread your wings
and fly, fly, fly
Wings, Wings, Wings of a dove
released to the heavens
let them fly, fly, fly

Copyright © sabrina lambie | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
I always get asked the same questions.

“How did you get through that awful situation?"
"How can you still breathe knowing she is gone?”
Next comes “Just give it some time,” insinuations.
“Don't worry Laura, you did nothing wrong.”

That day. ...It was that exact day...
             -when I had to say, 

“Good bye and I love you, and talk to you soon.” 
 Because of your very final masquerade,
You're guilty tears can fill up a room,
You tore your soul open with all the games you played.

But you had that thing...
That nagging and itchy pestilence,
But this time you obliterated your innocence,
And you swallowed shattered glass and left no evidence.

Today I was asked a question...
“What was the most important event in your life?
I can honestly answer with no hesitation,
The day my unbalanced sister chose to die.

You violently made a negligent decision,
With no thought of consequence,
Your death was planned with careful  precision,
So perfectly careful and miserably intense.

As time passes the minutes grow longer,
As each day ends the same,
Sure your death has made me a little stronger,
But only you,  is who I constantly blame.

Everyone always says, “It was just God's will”,
And I do believe that to some extent,
And here I lay restlessly trying to rebuild,
My crooked life since you got up and left.

But yes is no and no is maybe,
And maybe doesn't give me any answers,
Once you were the one who saved me,
No you've become my undying cancer.

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic Verse |
The dawn of day breaks the night
Through cigarette smoke there's a hazy light
Cold shivers still remain
Memory of a face still causes pain

Homeward bound, no injuries to see
But will they ever care or know what's inside of me?
War makes a man become a beast
War breaks the man and lets his hell release

They look at me with pride, some with fear
Though I see through the same eyes; that person they all loved is not here
Now a legal murderer sits before them, one who can't stop his hands shaking!
A quiet, humble man now he will become
For deep down I know just what he's done

I see my young sister and tears fill my eyes
Her innocence, pride and love; she simply can't disguise
I remember a boy screaming his sisters name
On the hellicopter out of hell I saw him holding her in his arms and over the rotor blades I could hear his pain

His face looking at me and his demanding screams of WHY?
When our boots hit the ground she had to die?

When battle takes hold and bullets fire into the flame
Explosions crack the fabric of the night, senses die in pain

I look at my face and see death behind my eyes
I recognise the features of the boy I liked in this man's reflection that I now despise 

I pray for the sun to go down so I can kneel alone in the dark
Where I can cry out my screams........

for the family who's world we tore apart.

Written 15th January 2017

Copyright © T.I.R.O. JY | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
With me, there were word sounds and expressions of grief upon being informed of the passing of a sibling.  Each one's passing ignited a sound, brief words, or simply a voiceless stillness that seemed to identify the emotion of the moment unique to each one. Sometimes, not a word, but like a quick gush of wind, that blows over you with a deep gush of sorrow, tears, and strong crying.  These are unforgettable moments of unforgettable emotions, about unforgettable loved ones.                           

Case in point: The death of my oldest sister in 1999. I received a call from a younger sister stating that our sister would not survive the head injury she incurred from being hit by a vehicle.  She was all but brain dead at the time.  Realizing her impending death, all words ceased, and I went ballistic.  A deep gush of grief and sorrow overwhelmed me with LOUD CRYING, and I could barely breathe.

Case in point: The death of an older brother who was one and a half years my senior.  In the Spring of 2003, a call came from St. Louis, informing my wife of my brother's death.  I was very subdued as a numbing silence swept over me; and the only words I remember uttering were, "OH CALVIN".

Case in Point: In December of 2003, a call came informing me that a younger sister in Indiana had passed away.  My grief was deep with a SILENCE of SADNESS, and not a word.
Case in point: Word came in November of 2012 that another younger sister of mine had passed away.  I was fortunate enough to have spent some quality time with her earlier the summer of that year. I was with her as she battled for her life during hospice care.  Although the doctor had given her very little hope of survival, she seemed to be on the winning side when my wife and I departed to return home.  Four months later, she died. When I received the fateful call of her demise, all that I could utter was, "Huh".  It was a grunt of bewilderment.  It was a grunt that essentially said, " O Lord, I thought she was going to beat that cancer".  I could not speak my grunt, but God read my spirit and understood every word. "HUH".

Case in point: A call came from a sister in October of 2013, informing me that our oldest brother had passed. I do not remember any spoken words of emotion. There was a quiet sense of death's reality; just a calm sense of acceptance. The reality that we all will someday depart this life.
04082017;07302017PSContest, Sad Free Verse, Laura Loo, P-NA

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
It was Valentine when I lost someone dear. This poem is that reminiscence. _____________________________________________________________________| You and I were close. Of course, we were. You my big sister and I am Humbug. Your nickname is Neece - Rosie in school. I remember how you looked when I was only nine. You were a beautiful girl full of life. Us both liked the wrestling and watch this a lot. I became disinterest in the sport. You watched because you said you really enjoyed seeing a man as a punching bag instead of a woman. We would go out uptown and party. We laughed together in our mutual environment. We dance when we wanted to dance. I truly miss you Neece. We are six years apart. Made a difference when I was a girl but now it does not because both of us are adults. You left me on Valentine in 2009. Five years later, I write these lines. I am bereaved; however, I now rejoice in your life. My beloved sister Neece, Rosie such a beautiful name, I see you are in tranquility through an hourglass. Farewell _______________________________________/ User Name: Verlena S. Walker Nom De Plume: Oblivion Dark Sunshine Sponsor: Nette Onclaud Contest Name: Take Two Date of Entry: March 31, 2014 ~This poem was entered Poet Destroyer A Contest Name Any Poem Goes #14 and I do not, for the real of me, know why it did not place in the top three and from there, not at all. Therefore, I am submitting it in your contest Nette - Take Two.

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |

The ten pack has been separated

How do the survivors feel about one being eliminated,

We are the Stanley's that have endured a lot of hard times

Do we all go on and pretend we are all still in our prime,

Can we go back and rewind the video to when it all was good

Make it where the ten pack is all together like it should,

Having all ten of us packed neatly in a safe pack

Where no hard could come to us and we had each others backs,

Can we not break the seal and hope it was all just a bad dream

Or do we have to face reality and realize that we are no longer a team,

God help us when the pack breaks all apart

Even though we are strong we are not made of cold hearts.

Written By: Unique Poetry 2009

Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

My mind wonders if she is cold and lonely

But, then I realize her shell is decaying slowly,

Her death doesn't seem real

Until I remember the day I touched her and she didn't feel,

The touch of her face was cold and like rubber

Then the thought runs through my mind how much I love her,

I just wanted to wake her up and say your not dead

But, deep inside I knew she was with God instead.

Written By: Unique Poetry 2009

Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

The time goes by and she is still gone

I wish Cheryl was still here and not beyond,

God keep her spirit safe and out of harms way

You are on my mind each and everyday,

The emptiness is like nothing you can explain

At least I know now you feel no pain,

But, please forgive me if I say

We want you back come what may,

Written By: Unique Poetry 2009

Copyright © Michelle Born | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
When you get to, to the place that
   I must leave you, when you get to th' station
When you look back, will it matter?
If I treated you badly would you forgive me?
       Broken down, I'll be sorry at the station
   Sister's relief, a brother's regret, at the station 
There were details, misunderstandings
    Hammers and nails, and bad relations
You remember, like the ocean don’t
As true love forgets, like I don’t remember
         Give as good as you get at the station
   Sister's relief, a brother's regret, bad relations 
I‘m sliding now, into tomorrow
    Wi' nothing left t‘ steal or t' borrow
 You just went on, hassled n' hustled 
Th' devil took you home, now not so troubled
         Broken down I am sorry, at the station
    Sister's relief, a brothers regret, bad relations

Copyright © Rightly Jennings | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegy |
How wan the lily of the vale, 
How sick the rose. 
No children play, 
No children sing. 

Have you seen our little sister? 
We saw her in our garden, 
Her pockets full of posies, 
We saw her skip away to yonder hill. 

A gale is strangely blowing 
Through beds of wilting flowers, 
And the crimson sun is sinking 
Until its strength must fail 
Unmindful of our woes 
And the burdens of this day.
If you see our little sister, 
tell her we wish her well. 

The willows are yet weeping, 
The cedar still is mourning 
And birds refuse to sing. 

If you see our little sister, 
Then tell her not to fear 
For her home of quiet darkness 
Is a better place than here. 

Copyright © Julian Scutts | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |
Within the child was the man,
When he spoke as a dying boy,
To his sister about her future,
With his knowledge of love and joy.

He asserted the plateau, 
Reckoned with dejection's scourge, 
Willed me on to overthrow, 
Traditions listless dirge.

He believed in, as did I,
The privacy of his four bedroom walls,
The innateness of two people,
Bound by inauguration stalls.

In my heart in later years, 
Was James saying rip and burn,
Which gave me a quiet confidence,
To vocalise and not turn.

10th of October 2015

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |
Beneath the darkness of heavy hearts,
Tears from nowhere weigh me down,

But I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

Merry men,
Laughing tongues wagging,

And I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

Lost memories rush in like tides,
Hands throw roses,

Landing like stones above the ground,
What a mighty sound,

Beyond the dark into the light,
I hear a mighty sound,

Scaring the moon, stars turn off their lights,
And I hear a sound,

Tomorrow appears with a glorious sun,
Mourning is over,

Night has fallen behind my shoulders,
And I hear a sound,

Children are born and some will marry,
I hear a mighty sound,

Clouds carry my burdens while songs fill the air,
Rains quench my thirst with every captured tear,

And I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

I can't see you from here,
In the morning's light I have slipped away,

But I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

Inside your pain something remains,
A mighty sound, A mighty sound,

I hear shadows fall,
The sea turning black and days turning pale,

And I hear a sound,
A mighty sound,

Blood on my tongue as I kiss death,
I hear everything you say,

I feel your pain,
Your tears heavy and wet,

I can't see,
But I hear a sound,

Inside my heart,
With my last breath,

You'll hear a sound,
It's God's Almighty Sound.

~Vickie Thayer~



Copyright © Vickie Thayer | Year Posted 2017