Best Anniversary Poems


Premium Member October Skies

We are apples growing on our parent's tree, planted by our grandparents from the apples of our great-grandparents ~ author

October skies still reflect in your eyes 
the way they once did on that day we were wed.
Autumn's bright leaves recall fond memories
of sweet days together even through stormy weather.

Once we were young, with our songs still unsung
As we wondered, "How's it feel to grow old?"
Nights fell, the months turned, new calendars came,
Now leaves in chill weather, in love, fall together
in orange, red, yellow, and gold

The sunrise has faded, our sunset is near
    The springtime has passed and the winter 
        we once thought we'd fear
           is now here,
               this love we still share brings a tear.

The season's deep magic hides changes within,
A rose's young bloom that won't open again,
like children that change right in front of our eyes -
the soft painted ceiling of October skies.


//  My grandparents had an October wedding. This song was a gift to them on their 60th anniversary. //

written October 1979
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member 365 Days

"This is dedicated to all who understand this. Whether we like it or not." -D.J.E.

I wasn’t gonna write this

But

Emotions are stirring high
Cannot believe
How much time has passed

Still feel your presence

Memories
Of the slowest death
Ever felt
Running parallel
To these present seconds

An ugly revelation
Tainted the sunshine
That bared on our souls
365 days ago

So many tears
Had filled the ocean
Of despair
For love’s river
Were held back by presumption’s walls
Uncertainty
The dam’s of what could have been

Here I stand
In this present moment
Your essence still lingers
Like the flakes of a dandelion b r e a k i n g 		f r e e
From its home

Tormented echoes of “why”
“How come”
“Please don’t go”
“I love you…I love you so much”

High pitched resonations
Float upon
Rafts of secondary importance
And yet
This heart still knows

For it will always recall
Its truth

Promises
Empty
Played me a fool
While you held hands
With inevitable

Crossing fingers
With diffusion
Across my shoulders

Left me uncomfortably numb
All my rights
Unreserved

And all the while
I
Simply
Believed

In tomorrow

Because
My foolish hopes
Continued to warp my mind

Maybe if I didn’t look back when you walked away
Like the rules said…
…No matter.

These soft acoustic riffs
Replay in my head
You were my “Wonderwall”
“You could’ve been the one…to save me”

But I overcame
For I
Saved myself

Didn’t want to be an inconvenience for you

Colors of Fall
Your favorite season
Kinda ironic
You were like Summer & Winter

Knew when to turn up the heat
Make me sweat

Each new arrival
A summer equinox
Each departure
A rainstorm

But, when it was over
Nothing but cold
Blizzard languages
Frostbitten
Even solace’s bandages
Could not heal

But, I weathered the storm
And would do it again
Cause it was for real

…

Here I am
52 weeks have past
Occasional recollection
Of that hourglass
With no more sands
Buried in dragon’s chest

You are in my silent prayer
Always

But
Know this

Even though you are contained
Within my heart’s asylum cell block home
I loved you
With all that I had

So much

That you will be the only regret
I will ever be proud of.

© Drake J. Eszes

Premium Member Bastille 2016

Bastille


Many years ago
They stormed the Bastille
Two hundred and one lost their lives
The tennis court oath however survived

Jacques had his heart with the masses
Necker could not be dismissed so easily
The storming of the Bastille was to be
The birth of a nation for all men free

And free men they were
Running naked through the streets
What they lacked in cake
The made up with in red wine

The Republique was born
A democracy in infancy
Would grow through trials and tribulations
To become a multicultural great nation

Lone angry men filled with such hate
I welcome you to Bastilles’ gate
Of medieval prisons long ago
It is there, you I shall throw

You kill in the name of a God
A God you do not know
Love has escaped from your very soul
Only hate tarnishes your bitter heart

The ghosts of Bastille are mocking
The coward who is filled with such animosity
There never shall be an escape
The soul of the dead shall eternally taunt you

A criminal with no compassion
You have only given us our determination
To battle for the peace of this great nation
You bring us tears; alas we shall turn them to wine

Naked through the streets we shall always dance!


Where the Flag Still Waves

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The echoes of that day,
Choke the flow of moving on.
Tattered memories...encased,
...of loved ones who have forgone.

We miss our sons and daughters,
But the Good Lord called them home.
We must embrace Thy course of time,
For the winds of change have blown.

Though America still weeps,
We’re still the home of the brave.
I’m proud to be from this land,
Where the flag still proudly waves.





____________________
For Nathan's 9-11 Contest

Premium Member A Dylan Thomas State of Mind

A Dylan Thomas State of Mind

It’s precisely 2:45am...the time when
~ if I’ve fallen asleep ~
I always awake to find
Myself drenched in sweat.

I lie here beside my beloved
~ as I have so steadfastly since
16 November 2016 ~
Thinking about...wondering...pondering
The end of my existence.

I am not talking about
Taking my own life.
          NO!
I’ve seen, heard, touched, tasted, smelt
          too much...
I’ve survived too much, felt too much...
I value Howard’s sweet...sweet...
Nurturing soul’s devotion 
To keeping me alive these past 40 years
To raise my hand against myself...now.

I AM talking about these things:
     Where do we go when we die?
     Do I have a soul?
     Will I be conscious — at the moment it happens —
     That I am drawing my very last breath?

Sometimes, when I awake in the early morn,
Howard is motionless beside me
And I stare at his beautiful face.
Dare I reach out and touch it with one finger?
What if it’s stone cold?
His flesh heavy...dead?

Death.
The End of Living.
The End...The End...The End...

Last January I begged for surcease...
For an end to the pain...
An end to the physical torture...
An end to the psychic suffering...
The constant thoughts of:
        “Is there a Hell?”
        “Will I go there if I take my own life?”
        “What does ‘eternity’ mean?”

Now this morning of 19 October 2017
I am thinking...feeling...praying:

         Please...Please...Please...

         God/Goddess/All That Is/The Universe/The Spirit
         Make my neglected hated scorned body
         Healthy and whole.
         So I may live
              today...
                  tomorrow... 
                      next month...
              next year...

Do not let me go gentle into that good night.
I am alive now...
And I rage...
                   I RAGE NOW!
                                       ....against the dying of the light.
       

Barbara Dickenson 
19 October 2017

The Softest Part

The softest part of a woman
Is not where you may think

Behind the ears 
in the mouth 
or lips of petal pink

inside the knee
inner thigh
you still have not to find
the tender place…
it’s not her face
or curve against the spine

her finger tips
bloom of hips
the nipple, or the eyes
beneath the breast 
 just a test 
to know you really tried

a trick you say!
if not the cradled
skin between the toes
a game to play
who finds the way?
who can really know?

The softest part of a woman though
is nowhere you can touch

with fingertips
or open lips
it’s nothing of the such

Emotion…
you might say above
is everything she lives
but not just love
and then it is
her willingness to give


Premium Member Through Glowing Interludes

~ ~

 through eyes that glow ruffling your hair 
we warm the room with luminous  stares
a gentle ambrosia drapes the  fragrant air
with wine from your lips --- and just  there
this need to melt  in immortal surrender
kindles as  rows of candlelight declare
kept promise of twenty  years deeply shared
and while laugh lines crease slight wear and tear
the charm of life’s  interludes makes me aware
~ how we glide together still burning and bare


    ~


Russel Sivey’s  Candlelight  Contest
By nette onclaud

If Love Were Enough

If Gratitude were enough, 
I’d fill the oceans with mine for having you
If laughter were enough,
I’d make you laugh till your last breath,
Just so I can hear that beautiful sound for eternity

If dancing was enough,
I’d waltz and foxtrot with you till your feet hurt
If tenderness was enough,
I’d then spend the rest of the day massaging those feet
Just so I can take the aching away

If life were enough,
I’d trade mine for yours in a heartbeat
Just so you can live to fulfil all your heart’s desires,
As all I want for you is your never-ending joy,
Your gentleness, coyness, kindness
And if love were enough,
I’d love you in and out of time,
As I love you from this day onwards,
I will love you beyond my final breath

I LOVE YOU…

Temptation

Your smile, Your eyes I can't deny that I want to try something that I know I shouldn't. 
I'm tempted to touch, to kiss, to go to another level with someone who doesn't even 
belong to me. It's hard sometimes when I remember that feeling, I'm shy but I can be 
crazy if I need to. I can't let that person escape from my soul because then I might try 
to do something I will have no control over so stop looking my way. I can't control 
these urges, Let alone stop thinking about what I want to do. Your making it hard for me 
to walk away. Easy for me to stop pretending. It's so easy to just say I want you, It's 
a physical attraction nothing more nothing less. So I close my eyes and get myself in 
check. But slowly as I open them you can see temptation on my tongue rolling all over 
me. I want to stop but I also want to go. Please temptation please please let me go. I 
don't want to do this but then I see your face and oh I can't believe your doing this to 
me. I hurry and run the other way, A street where you can't catch me. I need to survive 
but i'm breathing hard, sweat dripping down my neck this is what I crave for so 
temptation is lust. A sweet tasty drip of affection from someone that I shouldn't be 
desiring to taste. But I want this and some how my body slaves for this, I need this. 
Thus begins the chase of temptation a race I might not win.

Premium Member Strut the Butt Jabba

On Halloween night I will strut
Dressed like Jabba the Hut
     Many sweets I will eat
     As it is trick or treat
And double the size of my butt

Special Memories

Anniversaries, birthdays, special occasions

marking significant moments in our lives

bringing back precious feelings

reliving a once upon a time.

The first time that I met you

the butterflies I had inside

sitting in that corner café

daydreaming you were my bride

The candlelit dinner for two

outdoors under a red streaked sky

when I got down on my knee

oh that gleam I saw in your eye

Telling your mum she'd be a grandma

in her garden overlooking the sea

the day you made me a daddy

oh what a happy day it was for me

First feelings, first moments, first memories

 first kisses, first dates, first times

Anniversaries, birthdays, special occasions

celebrating that day you became mine
© Tim Smith  Create an image from this poem.

You Are My All

When on life’s seas I’m tempest tossed,
And my hopeful smile is all but lost,
When I need to survive at any cost,
You are my anchor.


My life is filled with simple pleasures,
My loved ones’ smiles I count as treasures,
When kisses are how life is measured,
You are the standard.


As time soars on and birthdays fly,
My hair is graying,  I don’t care why,
My mind is sharp, but not my eyes,
You are my youth.


Love is patient, love is kind,
And to the lucky, love is blind,
But when it comes to love that binds,
You are my love.

Premium Member At the End

Ever so much more than friend
Wearing scars of love's lullaby 
I can still see you at the end

Our song often left wounds to mend
Each time we'd return; blood barely dry
Ever so much more than friend 

To the depths of spite we'd descend
But against hatred's grip we'd ally 
I can still see you at the end

Betrayed by hope left alone to fend
Holding on; clasped hands cracked & dry
Ever so much more than friend 

Cuts slowly heal, the burn lessened
The allure to give up we'd deny
I can still see you at the end 

We stand frayed on a path we didn't intend
My hand in yours I walk with closed eyes
Ever so much more than friend 
I can still see you at the end 

12/05/2017
© FJ Thomas  Create an image from this poem.

Angels Above

Angels Above
A. W. Nutter

At fifteen, I was to young to become a father
At fourteen, she didn’t need to be a mother
We were old enough to have sexual relations
Unable to understand the implications

We cried out in anguish to the angels above
Pleading for their mercy and their love

Parents abusing us for this sinful union
Adolescents fearful and full of confusion
Not able to cope with the adult pressure
The mothers young body goes into labor

We cried out in anguish to the angels above
Pleading for their mercy and their love

My son struggled between life and death
I held his hand as he took his last breath
From my hands his little body was pried
The tears falling like rain from my eyes

We cried out in anguish to the angels above
Pleading for their mercy and their love.

Occasionally the mother and my path will cross
Seldom do we mention or discuss our loss
But every year at nine, on the sixteenth of May
We both agreed, to light a candle and silently pray

To the angels watching from heaven above
 Shower our son with mercy, show him your love

Lest We Forget

In churned up soil the poppy rose 
On top of death, still steadily grows 
And in our minds we see the crosses 
That lie in rows and count our losses 

Blood that drips from tiniest bloom 
Beloved children, lost from the womb 
Their essence blown upon the earth 
For infinity, will show their worth 

And so they marched by decree 
A war they fought, so we could be free 
The poppy, how we remember them now 
So in silence we do reverently bow 

One single day, just once every year
To remember all the horror and fear 
To give thanks and praise, to those in need 
Who saved us through unselfish deed 

For so young when they said goodbye 
With no idea that so many would die 
In Flanders Fields where poppies grow 
Innocence, now lays buried in each row 

For those that did return safely home 
Their spirit lost and so had flown
To fly away among the peaceful skies 
With friends and larks with carefree eyes

In the thunder hear the roar of guns
Calling to all our native sons
Arise, arise, from sleep once more
For once again, there will be war

In Flanders Fields, the poppies grow 
They cover our loved ones, buried below 
Like a blanket, they protect all within 
From a world that is ravished by sin 

More souls will join them as the years go by 
More wars will be fought, as the lark does cry 
More fields will be filled, with our dead 
And poppies will mark their graves in red

"Lest we forget and more shall die"
"In Flanders Fields our loved ones lie"

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