Husband Memory Poems | Husband Poems About Memory

These Husband Memory poems are examples of Husband poems about Memory. These are the best examples of Husband Memory poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

A Beautiful Reverie

Here I lie beside you
My heart goes thump.thump.thump.
My soul dances inside you
Reveling in the texture of your own.
Electric and flowing 
The currents of our love
Glow like neon lights
Illuminating the hope in my eyes.
Though we're not moving
I feel so incredibly alive
Invincible to my past
Untouchable by all who lack
That gentle touch of when 
You lean in and brush my face
Your lips grazing my skin
Softer than a butterfly.
And then you gaze into my eyes
I fall into your depths 
Twirling like the autumn leaves
Melting into your smile 
Your soul reminiscent of summer.
You pull me into your arms 
And for a moment I'm lost 
Breathless and in awe
Staring in the face of pure exquisite love 
And there you are - holding it 
Glowing in the moonlight of my stare.
My heart beats - its drum pounding away
Echoing a song thats lost its words
I touch your cheek and smile
My hands cant stay away
My lips s l o w l y, draw near yours
Hovering, and then - 
Part, a soft warmth against them.
My eye lids pulling shut
Dragging me into a silent heaven
I pull away - and what seemed millennia
Lasted only a moment, a second in time
But this is our love
This is what you do to me
You make me invincible and fragile
Lost forever in a beautiful reverie.

Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |


I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.

Copyright © VICTOR BUN | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...

(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)

a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

Just a memory to keep no poem

I got this message today
and after so many hard years
I wanted to post this

Not for anyone to see
but so I can and never forget
it has been so hard for so long

But now I couldn't be happier.
most people are ending things by now
but in our case we found we needed each other more

From my husband via text to me
I want to be more for you, make up for the beginning when I wasn't there for you. I've always loved you, but never really showed it, but there's one thing for sure. You've always been my one and only sweetheart, my love, my heart, and now it's time to show you how much I love you and let you see you've never known how much that really is.
 Hugs and kisses my butterfly. 

I cried when I got this it means everything to me.
I gave him some news yesterday and he was so happy.
Like the world was lifted off of him.
I brought him his dinner to his drilling rig
then spent the night with him, we watched movies, and laughed.

The years though hard have been good to us, he still looks so young.
He is the smartest most hard working man I know.
Everyone who works for him truly adores him and his company praises him.
We married at 17 and it was so hard for so long.
He kept pushing me with every I can not do that, until my books became tangible.
They will be out soon, and they  were not self published. His pride in me meant everything.
So this is not a poem yet a forever reminder of what God can do and knowing his love,
we can love each other better, stronger, and longer. I will be happy to move forward. 
I am still crying with joy. Thank you Lord for such a wonderful life.

Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

The Women

The Women

(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)

Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.

They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.

You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.

You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.

You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.

Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.

I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.

I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.

I salute you!

(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Turning The Pages

Pondering through the pages of time
folded and saved in the book of my mind.
Glancing at and seeing true all the things
we have been together through.
Stronger now than we ever were before
streaming life into us without ever having 
to close a door. So much love we have 
shared, for ever love and forever care.

Each time I turn a page, I see you and all
I needed in good times and in times of hurt
that deeply felt like a rumbling rage.
You brought stillness to me, so that through
the darkness I could so fearlessly see and
never leaving a broken page.

When I close my minds book, I know deep
inside I will find you each time I look.
So sacred this book is to me, for I know
that with you, I shall always want to be.

Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |


Sacred Bundles                       

 I want to build a fantasy
         And save it in a dream
And wrap it up in maple leaves
         Collected near the stream.

It would be a sacred Bundle
          Forever guarding me and you,
And the tokens--none would see but us--
         Will keep our hears sincere and true.

We would save a bunch of kisses
          Each one in an amber stone,
And hugs as strong as both your arms
          To hold us when we lie alone.

We'd collect a few forget-me-nots
          To hold a cluster of tender tears
 A calcite crystal from the hills
          It is the jewel of empty years. 

We'll save a bit of moss in there
         A reminder of the bank where we
Lay side by side with tender touches
        and you smiled as You made love to me. 

We'll tie our Bundle with the lines
       From Grandma Spider's web.
And hide it all in a sacred cave
        Near the place we made our bed. 

Copyright © Karen Ruff | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Hour Glass Sands In Time

Lets go back through the hour glass sands
in time, when all was young in our heart's,
soul's and our mind's.

The long walks and all the sweetest of talks,
our future was ours to unfold, you as my man
and I your woman to have, and to hold.

Time has passed and so many years have 
come and gone, you still hold my hand and
I lovingly follow along.

Grey has taken the raven hair's place, but
each time you see me, there is still a smile
upon your face.

You are the love of my life and I will forever
walk with you through the hour glass sands
in time.

Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |

my first love

I sit here... And I open up my heart... for you
 The blissful... feeling falls in to my lap... 
It's like little love notes.... from the years... of our pass.... 
The beat of my heart... beats a beautiful..... Melody.....
 And I sing the song... of our love...
 For over the many years of our pass… all we been though... you’re my strength... you’re my heart… you’re my prefect love,
My first love.... I will never let you’s now and forever… You will always be the one...that can get this heart... beating... strong.
It’s like my heart sings... this love song... For you... just like you... My first love.....
My baby boo... yea you… my first love… my angel from up above…
Boy you stole … my lips... my speech… when we shared our very first kiss.
And now that seems…so long ago.
Nineteen years in fax... standing outside you house...
Your friend cheered you on... but I stood standing strong...
Because I knew this was… the beginning of something true...
My first love.... I will never let you’s now and forever… You will always be the one...that can get this heart... beating... strong.
It’s like my heart sings... this love song... For you... just like you... My first love.....

Copyright © Davina Browne | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

It seems I wanted too much

It seems I wanted too much:
or may be just a touch.
May be a little bit more:
happiness with the one I adore.
May be a good morning kiss,
or sweet words: “My honey I miss”.

It seems I wanted too much:
to be happy as such,
to fly in the sky like a bird,
to be understood without a second word,
to listen to the songs of my Lord,
to give a smile and behave like a child.

It seems I wanted too much:
to live without any mistakes,
without any heart breaks.
I wanted my soul not to be cold,
to live without any storms,
to feel your heart warmth.

It seems I wanted too much:
to turn into a dove,
to swim on the waves of love,
to meet with you every dawn,
to have the wings of a swan
and never be alone.

It seems I wanted too much...

Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)

Copyright © Larisa Rzhepishevska | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

They Left so Abruptly

They Left so Abruptly

(for the countless South Africans, of all colours, who dedicated their lives for freedom and democracy)

the valiant ones
many known
many more nameless

the truest sons and singers
husbands and poets
lovers and wives
daughters and farmers
workers and sisters
brothers and friends

they left so abruptly
with quiet pride
steely courage
gentle dignity

they left so abruptly
leaving us our tomorrows
filled with promise

they left so abruptly
so that we may breathe
the breath of liberty
the air of freedom
the warmth of justice

they left so abruptly
leaving with us their parting gift


they left so abruptly
yet we remember them all
in the days that slipped away
and in the many more that we await

they left so abruptly
yet they remain
hewed into our memories
etched in our consciences
engraved in our hearts
they left so abruptly
and yet they endure
with us
within us
now and forever more

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

For Anene Booysen 1996 - 2013

Hamba Kahle Anene Booysen! (1996 – 2013)

Dead at 17, brutally raped and left to die,
in the dirt,


at a construction site in Bredasdorp.


‘horrific’, ‘repulsed’,
‘brutally raped’, ‘shocked’,


do these words mean anything,
to anyone,



Not to Anene Booysen,


murdered at 17, brutally raped and left to die,

in the dirt,


at a construction site in Bredasdorp.


Anene was raped,
savagely mutilated,


Her 17 year old body tossed aside,


by the hands of men.


Men, always men,


cowardly, beastly, perverted, twisted men.


‘Beastly’, ‘perverted’, ‘twisted’,


do these words mean anything,
to anyone,



Not to Anene Booysen,


who now lies cold and dead.


How many Anene Booysens will it take,


for us,






men, especially men,


to excise the ghastly menace,


of the heinous capacity that resides,


within men,


always men,


to brutalise, rape, mutilate, and murder.


‘Brutalise’, ‘murder’, ‘rape’,


do these words mean anything,
to anyone,



Not to Anene Booysen,


murdered at 17, brutally raped and left,


to die,


in the dirt,


at a construction site,


in Bredasdorp.



Anene Booysen
(1996 – 2013)


* – Hamba Kahle – “Farewell, Travel Well” in Zulu


** – Bredasdorp is a small town near Cape Town, South Africa

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Bio |

A Man Stood Part III

A Man Stood part III Story/poem A man stood by his window, thinking of what went wrong. He was old and alone. He has two daughters, but they don't get along with him. the one close to him, hasn't talked to him in over two years. He tries to concentrate now on his new found daughter - But she has a life of her own. In nine years since we found him - she has seen him five times. She talked to him on and off on the phone, but not much. I saw him four times. He had changed a lot. He said that he wished that I would live there close to him. I lived over 1000 miles away and to my husband - I was faithful. In 2006 he ask to meet my husband. He wanted to know what, kind of man I had married. I told him, I had married a good man. We had to go up there for my granddaughter's wedding, so we went to see him. My husband also wanted to meet him too. To my surprise, they liked each other. To me that was strange, but then - life is strange. My husband and I came back home. Both of them kepted on talking on the phone. I talked to him too on and off. In November of 2009 Thanksgiving Day, my husband passed away. That was a very hard year for me, since I had heart surgery, earlier in the year. My daughter and I went up North to see the family in 2010. We stopped by to visit with him. He told me then how much he had loved me and how he had made a mistake many years ago. But the past can not be changed. I never saw him again. We all have a date with destiny. He passed away three days after Thanksgiving in 2012. Sometimes he would sit by his window too. This man was the love of my life, but our love could never be. now I will end this chapter of my life. A man won't stand, or sit by his window anymore. The end...
01/2013 written by Lucilla M. Carrillo Comments: All that is written here is true and part of my Life. When you reach a certain age, you have to have a past and a story to tell. The first two chapters I had already written, but I needed to write one more. This was very hard for me to do. I hope you have enjoyed it. Thanks for reading.

Copyright © Lucilla Carrillo | Year Posted 2013

Details | ABC |

Sometimes I Like To Pretend Things Never Came To A End

Sometimes I like to pretend, things never came to a end. But over time, our love became a crime. I didn't know what we had, would ever end so bad. But then I knew things weren't right, when we started to fight. Now I walk down memory lane all the time, the pain is worst then committing a crime. We only caused eachother pain, but we were eachothers maine. I thought things would be alright, but I cried alot that night. I don't want things to change, without you my life is strange. You said you wanted me so much it started to hurt that you couldn't wait, now im just another person you hate. When you said you didn't care, I knew the person I loved was no longer there. You aren't the same, the new you is lame. We both fell, now it's hell. You use to always be here for me, like family. But now your nowhere in sight, things aren't right. Empty is all that I can feel, I still can't believe this is real. I didn't mean to let you get away, I didn't know what to say. Am i with the right guy, or am i telling myself a lie. I was afraid to loose what we had, but to you that choice was bad.

Copyright © Kierstein McFarland | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

Passion in D-Major

Passion in D-Major

Feeling, the sensuous brush-
strokes on a canvas,


to a symphonic crescendo,

of our shared heartbeats,

fading between the notes,

feeling your soft body entwined 
with mine,

your form bathed in my infinite 

our orchestral desire rising,

conducting a shared fusing of 

... the music echoing ...

over the precipice,

on the brink of dazzling rainbow 

lost in the void,
of an eternal instant,

plunging through the depths of 

forever pleading,

for a prolonged,

bouquet of shared time.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Fibonacci |


I miss you darling. Our wedding photo stares at me from its silver frame. I lovingly stroke your face, wishing it were for real. Terminal cancer tore you from my arms, but you live in my heart till the day I die. Contest Form F Sponsored by Broken Wings *real counted as 1 syllable as per soup counter – how many syllables shows 2 01~26~17

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017

Details | Couplet |

If I Remember You

If I feel your heavenly touch in the flutter of a swan You will know that my passion for you has never been withdrawn If I see your sweet face in the blue sea we traveled upon Such magic will just come in the most colorful hues of dawn If I feel the spray of waves when I climb out on the jetty I’ll sense the passion of your kiss when all cares did seem petty If I wade into the sea, I’ll remember our last Christmas The wading boots I bought you to fish filled you with so much bliss If I leave footprints in the sand, I’ll recall days at the beach When the warm, bright rays of a summer sun caused our hair to bleach If I hear your gentle voice in limbs rustling through the forest I’ll remember hearing you say, “Nature’s the premier florist” If my eyes fill with tears as I recall your great loyalty I’ll remember your strong intelligence; you seemed like royalty If I sense your presence accompanying me as I walk I’ll miss the sound of your deep voice and recall each time we’d talk If our song is played on the radio, I’ll miss you even more “Without You” by Nilsson recalls the sad day life shut the door And if I meet you again in the blessings of afterlife I’ll see your sterling-blue eyes and hear words that made me your wife
Written Monday, 3/23/14

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Most Days

Most days 
Ingrid Showalter Swift

Most days
I am really truly

But then………………………
flowing in like an iceberg that was off at sea 
now come to shore once more 
with the stinging knives…long tentacle fingers of searing ….  
it smashes the shore
ripping my pretty shells off the reef 
and stopping 
to silvered sudden silence............. the lovely waves of joy

or is 
as if  I am a tapestry
the top layer has many brilliantly died threads 
some even glisten as Gold and Silver and pulse intertwiningly with rich jewel tones and ambers
and soft areas of downy whites 
and creams ....that throw light up onto the ceiling and walls like a crystal spinning 

But beneath there is an undulating world of dark blue rivers baring your name
they swirl in eddies within me and sometimes 
they rise
 …and rise and rise and rise
they…flood the surface 

then all out

and all I can feel or see is the loss of you
your very ……………….goneness

and your own loneliness…your solitude 

in the sounds of your shop
metal is moving
nothing soft and blond 
or me anywhere to be seen 
except on that one lone shelf where my very tattered pages move gently every time you pass by
moving like seaweed dancing in the swirls of the sea
or leaves in the trees caught in your spirit's breeze

Copyright © Ingrid Showalter Swift | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |


 Sounds to me I'm deaf
Cant hear the murmur any more

 A thousand sounds a day I know
Only I can not hear it if they show

 The gaining of quiet stance
Bitter sweet the silence

 I could just not hear you anymore
I understand you sounds to my core

 Found myself straining to listen
Only to hear a blank shot angrily hasten

 When we come to sound out loud 
This is when I can face this crowd 

 Till then---

Sounds to me I'm deaf
Cant hear the murmur any more

Copyright © Justin C. Morgan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

We Wait

No chatter patter, I'm alone in a lonely house as winter arrives
My thoughts fly to you as you travel afar in distant regions
You still write me letters, though with fewer lines
Yet, they are filled with music for my soul 
You took care of all my needs before you left
You even stocked the house with wood for our bonfires in garden, 
But of what use are they without you and our little hearts? 
The wood lies bundled quietly in the store waiting for your hands to untie them
Solitary fires bring no warmth, I dispel with such an endeavour
Memories of children and us around our evening fires warms my heart
There was laughter reigning all around
Neighbours heard our peels as loud guffaws rattled their windows
They smiled at us the next day as it cheered their hearts, too
Scrumptious hot food was savoured 
While jabbering endlessly till midnight eerie hours
Now when I return from work I unlock an empty home with cold walls 
The overhanging roof almost engulfs me to madness. 
I wake up to misty-foggy mornings with the temperatures dipping 
I keep myself warm to retain my good health
You were always worried about my health with the seasonal change 
The days at work pass by, it is the dark cold evenings that leave me lonelier
The cold quilts dampen my lonely spirits further till eyelids drop
I miss the warmth of your arm as I snuggled closer 
It gave me protection and made me feel wanted
Your presence in your office at home made my world complete
Now the chair is lifeless before a clean dusted table
The office that was priceless has lost its value and
There is an empty vision in an empty room which waits for its master
Hot cappuccinos our nocturnal addiction is sans aroma 
We were a couple of few words but our silent eyes told stories
Quietly we walked down the lake with bird-food in our hands for our migratory guests The orange shroud of the vanishing sun imprisoned the lake waters lapping the banks. I've stopped going there without you 
I read and sometimes sit alone in our barren garden that
Awaits  your return to bloom in springtime
Life all alone without a loved one is a loveless life.

December 12, 2015
Contest: Favourite Love Poem
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron

Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Less Than A Day

The touch of your whispers has blown through the air
And the wave of summer disappears in the sand
There’s nothing to stop these memories are gone
Let the playbook now rest for the feelings they’ve stopped
Slowly it turns the small hands on your wrist
The knots in your belly have clenched like a fist
You picture the east and close her eyes
For the dawn’s a coming in all of our lives
The night’s now bleeding forever it tilts
Circling the orbit no rest from the filth
Rivers are flowing and spirits are dim
And the skies from the ocean will always stand still
The pain from the east has moved to the west
These days are numbered just like the rest
Blind in the rivers the hand clears it away
The whole world has changed in less than a day

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet |

Rev My Throttle

As last rose of summer opens wider
Night is drawing nigh, rose cutter in hand
The rose clipped in its best stage; placed in cider
Jar that was used up, cleaned_now it will stand

Jar of cider was enjoyed long ago
Remember that day on our honeymoon
You were so young with raven hair my beau
We found that road side stand that afternoon

Bought that jug of cider that was so cold
Refreshing after long ride around mountain
So eager for life that we would build_hold
Hold each other_life; wanting to obtain

I clip that rose_place in memory bottle
One memory revs my motor throttle

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |

A Constanza Memory

The anniversay golden  
Comes only once in a lifetime
Time to remember when in prime

Gifts owned were somewhat then hidden
God lifted us up brought us out
He transformed without a doubt

Digging; water sprang in garden
Seed planted began to grow
Slow but steadily spirit know

Brought forth; built up once downtrodden
Encouraged new creation growth
Transformation began in both

Now burden lifted, heart gladden
Truly can celebrate marriage
Of growth;each other anchorage

The anniversay golden
Gifts owned were somewhat then hidden
Digging_water sprang in garden
Brought forth; built up once downtrodden
Now burden lifted, heart gladden

Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Contest: Can You Constanza

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

Memories Ebb and Flow

love reaches its crescendo
then gently slips away

your spirit follows me
through darkness and light

I see your reflection in tranquil waters
your tender touch carries on sea breezes
scent of Aramis clings to your pillow

but most of all, your music
refined, classical compositions
pulsating from ivories

reminder of the day
you first opened the keyboard
sharing your greatest love

music in my soul
will follow me to heaven
so we may share again

*May 28, 2014 for the “Debussy Inspiration” contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

The cheating sin

She comes home to a silent room
Waiting for the greeting that she yearned to hear each day
Instead the noise that met her ear
Was of the most surprise to her
It was moaning and a groaning
And something she has never heard
She walked around to see what it was
In her mind she already knew
There he was and there she was
staring in each others eyes
Caught in the mist of the action
That just ruined both of their lives
She ran out so fast but didn't know where to go 
But her mind was way ahead
She put the car in reverse and skidded down the street
Before he ever could reach the door
She never talked to him again
But her heart wanted to each day
He cheated and she couldn't believe it
That was the end of their days
Years went by and she is trying to forget
But the pain keeps seeping back in
So uncontrollable, so unfathomable
She just wanted to the pain to end
Slowly and surely she drank away every hurt in her body
Till the night she drove herself off that cliff
Into the water that remained below
She did it  because her heart couldn't be mended 
Nor fixed of all the pain
He will never get to see her face
But will always remember her pain

Copyright © Jasmine Jorden | Year Posted 2013

Details | Didactic |

Silent Saviours

We rushed out of doors
To find a young lass on the crossroads
Lying helplessly in pain
With a scooter toppled 
Over her injured self
A car had knocked her down
And sped off with disheartening speed
She was breathing and I put my hand 
Under her head  to comfort
As my husband dislodged 
Her from the scooter and we
Brought her home and laid her on bed
Cleaned her wounds and called her parents
A smile curled up their worried faces
At God's grace

A decade later on the highway
My husband's car crashed into  a tree
While saving a running dog
Stuck between a jammed steering wheel and seat
He lay bleeding and mutilated
A saviour stopped and dislodged him
Took him to a nearby hospice
Not a penny stolen from his heavy pocket 
He handed over everything of value 
That he could gauge from the car
Leaving as silently as he had entered into our lives
No name no identity no trace of himself
The hospital contacted us from his diary
Everything fitted in as if planned by bigger hands
His angels are everywhere
Even in places notorious for robbing and killing

March 5, 2016
Contest: What Goes Up, Must Come Down
Sponsor: Catie Lindsey

Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

In memory of a dear husband


Has it really been a year,
that each day I have cried a tear?
I miss you more and more each day,
the sadness will not go away.

You were my rock,my strength,my guide,
you were always with me by my side,
the ups and downs we shared together, 
no matter what we had to weather.

No deeper love we could have shared,
but God knew that you could not be spared.
He needed you in heaven above 
to spread your special brand of love.

You are still my rock, my strength my guide,
and I know you are always with me by my side.
Our love and lives still intertwine,
one day we will be reunited for all time.

Love you forever 

(c) 19 July 2003 by Barbara M. Brewin

Copyright © Barbara Brewin | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Fires of Hell

Standing in an empty room, alarms blaring.
Kids run out of the school, screams echo on the walls, she called Hell.
She sits on the floor, fire rages beside her.
She watches as the flames dance closer and closer to her flushed body.
Songs of pain and misery play in her head.
She starts to sing. A lick of fire meets her foot, consumes it hungrily.
The fire spreads, her voice rings louder and louder as her body burns.
Students turn to the noise, the vice principal knows this voice. She hears it
day by day.
Her little girl, is in a burning building. The mother rushes to the doors,
is stopped by men in red.
Smoke swirls around the lady in a gray misery.
She falls to her knees, as does the girl.
Both have lost control of their legs.
The mother recognizes the song, it was one she sang to her daughter as a child.
She sings, through her tears.
The daughter turns at the sound of her mothers voice.
She hadn't heard  her mother sing since she was a 12,'when her father died.
The girl starts to cry and goes to move to leave, to escape the flames of hell she lit.
She falls and is consumed.

When the fire is out, and the mother finds the girl.
All that is left is a locket. With her daughter and Husband. Ingraved with the words.
'Im Sorry.'

Copyright © Paige Reed | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |


Another Christmas approaching without you by my side 
Each passing one it gets better since the year you died
Not one passes without your memory coming in to play 
As one tear is shed as i awake Christmas day
I don't think there will be any ever quite the same 
Without your eyes for me to see or your voice calling my name
But as i awake Christmas day the memories will be there to greet me 
I will take all those cherished moments as i sit by the tree 
The boys will tare the paper open as they laugh and play
Your memory stays with us another Christmas day

Copyright © colleen laforme | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme |

Memory Hunt

Who can forget another
When a spouse won't remember you?
Who can search for a lover
When a mate discovers how to...?

Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2008