Grave Loss Poems

These Grave Loss poems are examples of Grave poems about Loss. These are the best examples of Grave Loss poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative |
 *Note:  A 60-year annual tradition that involved a mysterious visitor leaving three 
roses at the grave of writer Edgar Allan Poe on the anniversary of his birthday 
ended in January 2010.  Curators of the Poe House and Museum are at a loss to 
explain who left these gifts and why they stopped.  On many occasions people kept 
vigils  near Poe’s grave during this period that began in 1949, but no one ever saw 
someone leaving the roses. In the morning, however, they were always on his 
grave.  Poe is considered the father of the American short story and 
his poem The Raven is one of his best known works.



Once upon a midnight dreary, Poe heard a tapping at his window
     While grieving the loss of his young bride, a maiden “angels named Lenore,”
A radiant teen whose long, black hair in gentle breezes would billow,
     Tapping at the window ceased, but suddenly it was heard at his door

Upon opening it, a Raven flew in repeating, “Nevermore”
     At first he welcomed this odd visitor until Poe whispered, “Lenore”
When he heard his word echo, the strange Raven he began to abhor
     He asked if he’d see his bride again and the bird replied, “Nevermore”

Though Poe died in eighteen forty-nine, a mystery evolved much later
     A century after his death, his grave had an annual visitor
Roses were left on his birthday by someone whose love appeared greater
     Who had left these floral gifts forever stumped the Poe House curator

Perhaps the answer can only be explained by reincarnation
     Did the Raven embody the spirit of Poe’s beloved Lenore
If so, perhaps the Raven returned again in a life rotation
     In human form she visited to lay roses on the earthen floor

And upon her death in two-thousand nine, she took to the skies once more
     A Raven who now joins the flock circling above her late husband’s grave       \/
Could it be her spirit remains with Poe, as it did in life before                         \/ \/ \/
     Bringing him in the afterlife all the roses a poet could crave                     \/ \/ \/ \/

For those who consider this possibility totally absurd
Just consider the fantasies Poe created with the written word



By Carolyn Devonshire
Contest Title: “Among the Dead,” sponsored by Constance LaFrance ~ A Rambling 
Poet ~

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011




Details | Rhyme |
I think about you, every single day,
Since from me, you were taken away,
Your absence has left my world cold,
Now I am alone, with no hand to hold.

I wish that I could bring you home,
So that your soul, shall need not roam,
I hope that you were given white wings,
To fly amongst, where the angel sings.

Within my heart, your eternal breath,
Shall now linger on, even after death,
My love for you shall never cease,
So, may you always rest in peace.







Written by: Kelly Deschler  

Gautami Phookan's contest - The Poet III

_______________________________________
For Gail Angel Doyle's contest - "Eternal Breath"

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Mossy vines served as camouflage for a decaying headstone This was the first time I’d laid eyes on your final resting place In front of me stood a grey granite slab covered in emerald moss Green ivy clung to the stone and snaked round the nearby yew tree It was evident your grave had not been visited for many many years In fact, until ten days ago I didn’t know you existed … A family secret kept hidden from me by my elderly ‘mother’ It wasn’t until her recent death I discovered the real truth At the will reading the lawyer presented me with an envelope Spidery handwriting revealed that my real mother died in childbirth I discovered that I’d been adopted; my real name was Sara James Seeing my original birth certificate for the first time was a huge shock Now I know the reason I felt that I never belonged With my raven hair and pale skin I looked very different from my sister Beth I’d been told I looked like my great aunt and I’d never queried this Now I stand in front of the plot where my real mother is buried I spend an hour weeding, tidying and cleaning the gravestone Rivers of tears run down my face when I finally reveal the inscription Carved in the decaying stone I read Ellen James - died 17th April 1953 aged 33 Fell asleep with her tiny angel Susan James - died 17th April 1953 born sleeping Family secrets kept hidden in the graveyard Sobbing bitter tears I kneel down and leave a red rose For my mother and my twin sister that until today I never knew existed Fictional write for Camouflage me a Poem Contest Sponsored by Broken Wings Theme 1 chosen - Mossy vines served as camouflage for a decaying headstone 08~04~16

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016




Details | Rhyme |
Pal
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

Details | Dramatic Verse |
My France, My France
How I weep for you
these tears are not of joy,
for you have let the enemy in,
they brought disaster to your shores.

My France, My France
How I weep for you
The pain you must endure.
For all those dead have,
come to you under burdening
skies.

My France, My France
How I weep for you
Who has put you through this Hell?
It has no face,
I cannot tell,
It's here in space,
the Dawning was its place.

My France, My France
How I weep for you
Your skies have turn to Black
The Peace and Security you seek,
has now suddenly turned its back.

My France, My France
How I weep for you
My tears are not of joy
I pray for you,
my heart opens too.
You may find Peace within.
When your dead are buried and
your revenge has its reward
Come together
Powers of Faith
Come together
Almighty hand and rest upon us
from this mighty land.

Give us your Peace.
We ask thee now
Give us your Peace
We ask how?

My France, My France
How I weep for you
In time of trouble,
what is it can you do?
Your borders closed
turmoil enclosed
The sadness fills the air.

For Peace is fleeting,
The enemy has come there.
Your golden arch is dim.
Your Eiffel black with sin
The City of  Lights 
are in the shadows for his mighty 
hand has struck.

Peace you may ask,
Revenge your reward.

My France, My France
How I weep for you
For can we say, no more, no more.

Copyright © Marilyn Williams | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |
Down on row and pit and mortal flower
  the undertaker's men stood grave and bier,
and brave stoic death fills the living hour
  for ever more a day, a week, a year...
where bathed in shafts of exalted light toll
  the bells of Mass and vigil in Greenhithe,
when in bound clay an immovable dole
  grimly hung the shadows in hood and scythe.
Yet I upon this ploughed earth sullen gaze
  and hearken in the blooms the winds of death!
What sting its pierce to a full end of days
  that dares to breathe on me its cankered breath.
Withered is the bud and brief flower shed,
yet for a time its beauty shone outspread.

                   

                     July 1995

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |
Is this then all there is now, only me
And all there is now left for me to do 
Cry ‘mercy’ to the unforgiving sea
And bury all the love I had for you
Beneath the sorry roses in the shade
Of yew trees, in the graveyard, by the wall
Let tenderness and fondest feelings fade
Until the day there is no you at all
Within my mirror, only empty sky
And tumbleweed across the arid ground
No answer to the question of my cry
Just silence; oh my love, in you I found
A heat too sweet and gentle to forget
Have mercy on me, love, don’t leave me yet

© Gail Foster 2016








 


Copyright © Gail Foster | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
Silence: All I hear when I call out your name. Snow envelops me and snuffs out my flame. Gone is the light with which your name can be read, I think I hear you, but it's all in my head. I'm deep in the woods where no songs can be heard. I am the only one here, and I speak but four words.

Copyright © Danny Stinson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Etheree |
Two fawn stood beyond Dale's grave and fed on fallen acorns. A doe, then a second deer haltingly drew near. One buck hung back where grass met woods, head raised, watching. . . like my dear brother - apart from family, yet not too far away. For the Ten Lines Poetry Contest of Heather Ober

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010

Details | I do not know? |
As the tears fall down from my face,
I think about that magical place.
You took me there when I was young,
but that was before the pain begun.
You walked me down the road of life,
preparing me to be a mother and a wife.
You would hold my hand and say have no fear,
mommy's not going anywhere, I'll always be here.
But that was wrong and so were you,
you left me mom, what am I to do?
I've been told life goes on,
but it can't be, because you're still gone.
I pray at night to see you in my dreams,
but you're never there, just terror and screams.
How could this happen, how could this be?
The woman I love so dearly up and left me.
I go to the grave every afternoon,
I sang our favorite song, it was a nice little tune.
But since your gone I've changed some things,
about marriage and babies and diamond rings.
Those things are not important to me now,
I ask myself, how did this happen, when and how?
You let yourself go to that place in the sky,
but it happened so sudden mom, please tell me why?
You left me a note by your bed,
you wrote moments before you ended up dead.
Please tell me why you took your own life,
you were a such loving mother and a dear wife.
You didn't write much, just a few lines,
to tell me you love me, and it would be better in time.
But now that your gone, it's not better at all,
I just lay in my bed, I scream and I bawl.
To know what you done, it's too hard to bare,
I stand at your grave with a cold desperate stare.
You were a daughter, a loving mother, and a dear wife,
Why did you do it mom, why did you use that knife?
I wonder everyday, it's all I think about,
There's only one thing it could be, without a doubt.
You went to a dark place, filled with murder and thugs,
I know why I lost you mom, you could no longer fight the drugs.
You could have reached out and told someone before,
now it's too late, death has already knocked and opened your door. 
I'm sorry, so sorry, I could not see,
the reason you are dead is because of me.
I wasn't there to help when you needed me most,
Now I can't see you, not an image or a ghost.
I've answered my question, I just waited too long,
I know my mistake now, but it's too late, your gone.

Copyright © Loretta Adams | Year Posted 2005

Details | Verse |
At peace, of life bereft
in the last grave on the left
where wilting weed and musty bloom
cloud the legend on the tomb.
Words in chiselled grey
bear false witness every day;
acid rain a solemn screen
when every night was Halloween.
Thunderous drums roll near,
lightning jagged, forked and clear;
marching men and daily bread
echo sacrosanct and dead.
In plywood boxes my friends sleep
out of mind and buried deep;
pray for me throughout the fall,
the one who never sleeps at all…

Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005

Details | Lyric |
Dedicated to my Dad who lost his short battle w/ Colon Cancer on June 18,2013

I hate you Cancer
Your vile evil and cruel
You don't care who you hurt
I'll never forget that day
I'll always hate you for it

Your heartless Cancer
You took someone important from me
Someone important from others too
Took people who didn't belong to you
I hate you for it

You disgust me Cancer
You had no right to take him from me
He mattered more than my very own life
I hate you for taking my Daddy
I hate you for taking others too

I hate you with a passion Cancer
You took part of my heart with him
You took part of my soul that day too
I hate you for it
I hate you I hate you I hate you

I hate you with every fiber of my being 
Go back to Hell where you belong
I hate you, others hate you
Your not welcome or wanted here Cancer

I hate you more than his doctor's
I hate you more than God
I hope I get to witness that day
Witness the day you fall
And you will fall Cancer

You're gonna lose the battle one day Cancer
I'm gonna laugh and dance around your grave
You'll finally get what you deserve 
And you'll never be able to inflict your disease on another soul


Sabrina Niday Hansel


______________________________________________________________________
Placed 8th in Poet Destroyer A's  2013 "PINKTOBER" Contest

Please Support a Cure for Colon Cancer & every other type!








Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Pastoral |
I woke in a street with no memory
I do not recall how I arrived here…
I remember only a world filled with enemies…
I know where I was before
How they all felt envy…
Their wars and their greed…
The blood spilled between men
For the colour of their skin…
Their faith and their kin…
The struggle that made my soul weak…
I remember the past, but not how I arrived here…

With my eyes still closed
I could smell the bakeries and the olive oil…
I could hear the children and their mothers voice…
The Church bells, and the Mosque call
All the believers to fall…
In submission to the one who created us all…
I could feel peace, no voice speaking of evil, of war…
And as I opened my eyes
They started to slowly cry
As I saw a sign, that welcomed me to Syria…
My home…
The fallen piece of paradise…

Copyright © Zeki Majed | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |
Beloved, lovely roses: gift of God and lover’s flower,
Spread your colored petals and cradle tender showers.
While admiring the blossoms with their beauty to behold,
Ought we not to know the Tender of such lovely garden groves?

For He lovingly and thoughtfully wields His pruning shears
To cut away the stems of old for fuller future years.
He cultivates and feeds them. He attends them as a Father
Looking daily to their needs; so faithfully He waters.

From the dawn of morning dew until the setting sun arrays
Caring always for His own until that great appointed day…
When the Gardener comes to claim each one the earth held as its own.
He gently picks it at its peak and for His pleasure takes it home.

As God did one glorious morning, when the Perfect Rose had bloomed.
He rolled away the stone and met with Mary at the tomb.
There the sweetest Rose of Sharon rose that we die not alone.
But be gathered for a garden grove, surrounding heavens throne.

Copyright © Tom Valles | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Gazing out upon dusky barren moor,
Where gray grass grasps the air
Finding no purchase but sad allure
Straight stalks elapse their endless despair.

Teased by tales of golden reach
Tricked by gales, whose song they preach.

Redtail’s velvet wings breach the sky,
Maroon lips who kiss the grass
Stirring the song, its desperate sigh
Catching the words, her beak of crystal glass

Behind her, midnight shadow draws
Fells her beauty with unseen charcoal paws

Scarlet tears dampen the earth below
Nurture the roots held by dusty truth
Finally, the wind, gray grass’ will bestow
The hawk once, now the fountain of youth.

Litany of silence reigns in dusky glare,
Each blade bowed in mournful prayer.

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Senryu |
a cold stone bears his name
grief pours onto his green plot
prostrated mom shouts "why?"

Copyright © JoanMarie Peranteau | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic Verse |
*Walking among the tombstones
*Conversing with the dead
*Alone, crying at a grave
*A woman on her knees, bowed was her head

*Her hair was dark
*Her eyes were too
*I couldn't help the strange feeling
*That this was a woman I knew

*As I approached
*I quaked with fear
*And in the blink of an eye
*The mysterious woman disappeared

*Curiosity got the best of me
*I threw caution to the wind
* What I saw at that stone
*I could not comprehend

*My breathing became erratic
*Tears fell from my eyes
*My heart sank
*As I read those lines

*Here lies Valerie
*Mother, daughter, sister, and wife
*Such a pity and a shame
*She took her own life

*Her mind and spirit broken
*Her heart was shattered
*So tired of being worthless
*To him not one moment together mattered

*Couldn't close her eyes
*Her nightmares carried her fears
* Suffocated by lies
*Drowned in her tears

*She could still feel his heart beat
* and hear his breath
* she still felt her hand on his face
* and his head collapsed on her chest

*She gave her last breath
*Praying and begging for one last kiss
*And to hear him say he loved her
* to feel the fire and emotions she had missed

*A love she once knew
*So real and rare
*So strong yet so frail
*Forever they were to share

*his promises were broken
*he chose a different life
* living for everyone else, without her
* he walked away and let her go and didn't even cry when she died

*My hands began to tremble
* What I began to realize, I just couldn't believe
*I had lost her so very long  ago
*The woman who had vanished was the me I used to be...

Copyright © VALERIE THE HEAVY HEARTED POET | Year Posted 2014

Details | ABC |


Bitter by ; being mentally bruised and battered most of my life,
shaken with fright without a single soul to help me
through the troubles unseen horrors of the night, 
from an evil source that I fear to strike. 
But as the evil forces, who limited my choices 
that when I found my stallion horses. 
Swiftly it came to my head I can run and I cannot hide, 
feeling the Beast closing in on every time I decide to hide. 
Tired of running and tired of alluding this
relentless creep as my red bolt eyes weep 
feeling rest-less, likes a lonely defeated warrior from his home in retreat 
that is when I knew it time to rest, to release my Beast. 
But in a fight, I may not win however as I cast out my dirty words sin
I made sure it felt my impact, to the bloody end.

by Keith Kadell

Copyright © Keith Relf | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse |


 Across the knoll where fading starlight hangs
On graveyards damp, laying on pleated  moss
While row of angels bears the gusty winds;
As evening spreads its thin veil on the ground .
My hands begin to trace each cross on the aisle
Revealing a child’s name, young bones interred
Within the deepened chamber of his tomb,
Enshrined in limestone white...like a pure dove .

That on this foggy glen, a mother kneels
Accompanied by evanescing stars…
Her lips pressed on crystals of prayer beads
Till musings are whispered to a lost son .
Embracing this woman’s grief, I rewind
All memories of my father, long gone;
Beside this crypt, there Dad quietly rests;
Maybe pleased, as I leave garlands for the babe.


...................

For the Contest: Poetry Writing #1
Sponsor: Broken Wings
12/16/2015
By nette onclaud

............................
~Blank Verse is poetry that is written
 in unrhymed iambic pentameter.
http://www.poeticterminology.net/07-blank-verse.html
* In theory, it consists of ten syllables though 8 or more 
syls are accepted.

...........................
~This is one of my favorite forms as it allows me 
to combine a rhythmic, flowing pattern in iambic meter
with dash of free-verse style.





Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric |
I didn't like losing you
And my tears cried the truth
With rain that came
On the cloudiest day
Like heaven was crying too



©2014 Honestly JT

Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? |
In the attic, above wooden floor,
through the hallway of psychotic, locks upon my door,
near the broken window and glass of the sore,
hiding in the shadows,
bloodstains on the wall.

 Number nine,
house at the end of the street,
where lights are low,
where silent never sleep.

Copyright © Miche Ulman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
There was a king, very Grimm
Who composed verse of the dead in the dim
The dim darkness of evil minds
Brothers of a sort in the black forest
He was in exile and away from the castle walls
He wept for lost loves and lost conquests
He wept for lost brothers and wars, he wept for battles won
His sword became a pen
Day and night, thoughts to clay
He pondered lost hearts and fortunes
Poetic verse captivated the forest creatures
Nobility reciting verse after verse
Of ones darkest desires
The king was a poet
With a broken arrow
No lover to fall under his spell
Darkness devoured
All thoughts that may have been


The Princess of Light

I woke in the dawn, in the mist of nowhere
A prince soon to be king
Came upon my abode
He fell to his knees
I fell in love
We rode together behind castle walls
We battled warriors, we battled love
I died, he fled
His torments haunt him still
King of the poetic darkness

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |
Holodomor Genocide 



Native of Ukraine and Soviet Union,
Known once for my independence,
Was pitied tobrutal artificial famine,
Exporting our grain,and leaving us to die,

Declared Kurkul under Stalin's policy,
Shipped to remote uninhabited Siberia,
Left to die of famine,
I was one of the millions,
Once the landlords now riches to rags,

Ghost of hunger that engulfed us all,
Even our innocent kids,
Many nights of darknessand severe ache,
More in heart than in the stomach,
Sun brought no shine,
Zero hope as deathdanced around,
As if wolves driven from the woods,
We ate our own bodies,

Every moment souls died a new death,
Horrible Helplessness, hue and cry around,
Walking amongst corpses,
 the good were first to die,
Cannibalism survived,
Could morals stay high ?

Survival a mystic miracle,
Made to deny any famine in public,
Robert conquest termed it 'Harvest of Sorrow'
Decree by Parliament proves it worst of genocide!



Written October 20th, 2014
On Holodomor In Ukraine in 1928
For contest' Genocide' by Cyndi Macmillan

Awarded 1st place





Copyright © Dr. Upma A. Sharma | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
Read the Bible and the words that are said. Times of trouble and tribulation are ahead! All one has to do is read the book of revelation. To read about this world and this nation! Days of wickedness and evil that abounds.. Shall very soon. Come “crashing to the ground!” For our sin, there’s a price that has been paid! Many have become sin’s servant and slave! Many will not escape God’s judgment and wrath! They’ve chosen the wrong direction and path! Right now... There’s a path and a way to “escape!” Please do it right now! Before it’s too late! The right path to take, is through Christ alone! He must be the lord of your heart and home! Jesus alone, can bring hope to your soul! He’ll never leave you! Is what he wants you to know! Times of trouble and uncertainty are well on their way! Christ can help you to overcome! He can do it TODAY! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet |
We buried her in a hole in the ground.
It was her final, resting place—poor Mom!
Shaken, I wept but my siblings were calm.
Only I appeared distraught and unsound,
overwhelmed at the sudden loss I found
too great to bear. It was like a huge bomb
had exploded in our lives—like napalm!
There I sat. My grieving tears were profound.
It had been an upsetting funeral.
We buried her on a cold, wintry morn—
all there knew their places on arrival.
Among them I wept, so tearful and torn
during the service and the burial.
In the end, I felt so dead and stillborn.




Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
I watch another setting sun, losing a loved one,
Yet I know this is commonplace.
It's hard to hear that they've gone,
Though death was their saving grace.

We all knew that this time would come,
Not wishing for the hour nor day.
Though life, like before, it carries on,
After they have passed away.





©2013 Honestly JT

Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2013

Details | Senryu |
sun shines bleak, cold winds whip
death's sting floods her tender eyes
daddy is laid to rest

Copyright © JoanMarie Peranteau | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
century later in a watery grave souls of the elite as well as peons float about the wreckage boarding in Southampton Dad carried jewels to sell in the States I, just a teen, came along to see the sights Dad’s money purchased rooms on the top tier artistically designed ball room was aglow bright lights, sumptuous food and fancily-clad dancers in my youth, I cared naught for such things down the stairway I flew to see the lower class strumming guitars and telling raunchy jokes but the joke was on me it seems suddenly, the boat hit an iceberg on the lower level I was trapped screams were heard above as passengers sought seats on lifeboats not enough room, fear ignited ship took on water; we felt it first still trying to find a way to the top deck once there, I saw Dad had left me behind lights were still on as the boat tore in half on the bow I stood with a small crowd as into the icy waters we dropped tried to swim; the sea was too cold on my maiden voyage, much like the ship, I succumbed as screams faded my spirit so lively, it could not die with 1,517 others my soul was held captive below New York was not our final destination Dad made it to the Big Apple no family with him as he made his financial deal what he earned fell short of what he lost century later in this same watery grave souls of the elite as well as peons float about the wreckage, praying for release
*Entry for Tracie’s “My Heart Will Go On” contest Written March 29, 2012

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy |
DEATH
Death is everyone’s enemy,
It separates couples, 
close friends and family.
Everyone fears it; 
it has no friend, nor sympathy,
For it only bites with might.
It is scary and cranky, 
No one can see it.
Death brings torture,
grief and injury,        
It brings great sadness 
And fills one with fury.
Death will be so easy if not for pain,
For with pain he makes his gain.
It fears no one,
Poor or rich, proud or humble,
Old nor young.
Death is no more visitor
In any household,
For no family had never experienced his hold.
It feeds and lives on flesh and blood,
And at the end leaves the person on his grave; 
All alone with his bones.

Copyright © Anayo Oleru | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
' Talitha Cu'mi - - - Rise ! ... '


        (Tal' i-tha cu' mi)
(An Ancient Arabic/Syrian Phrase)



(Mark 5: 41 / John 5: 28, 29 / John 6: 39 /  John 10: 3-15, 27 / John 11: 23-27)



'Talitha Cumi ... Rise!'
Said The One Who Can Save All Lives
Talitha Cumi ... Rise!
Death's Cut Will Not Be Your Knife
-- Talitha Cumi ... Rise! --

Talitha Cumi ... Rise!
From Your Bed & Your Good-Byes
Talitha Cumi ... Rise!
Hear My Voice & Recognize
-- Talitha Cumi ... Rise!

'Rise! From Upon Your Bed
Greet The Brightest Day Instead
Greet The Blessings On Your Head
The Blood of Life For You I Bled
-- Talitha Cumi ... Rise!' --

'Talitha Cumi ... Rise!'
Said My Beloved Lord Jesus Christ
'I Covered You In My Sacrifice
and You Praised Our GOD For That Price
-- Talitha Cumi ... Rise!' --

'Little One - Open Your Eyes
Loved Ones - Dry Your Eyes
'Cause Resurrection Ain't No Lie
Wake Up! ... and Walk Eternal Life!'

Tal i-tha cu' mi  ... Rise!


         Written & Copyrighted ©:  9/26/2013 
                  by:  MoonBee Canady


Examples of a Resurrection:  The Spring Season, Butterflies from Cocoons, 
A Buried Seed, A Healed Skin-Cut, A Revived Heart (and) A Human Being
(and the song above is how I felt after my Lumpectomy Surgery) Oh yeah!

MoonBee

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2013