Best End Poems
The End
Seeing through these cold dead eyes now,
This world looks much different.
The scars of one’s life entire,
Appear now for all to see.
What once meant everything,
Really means nothing now.
I still see and sense things mortal,
But the earthly world can’t hear my words.
Lying on an ice-cold white slab this darkest night,
I see the pale yellow moon’s sad face in the sky.
With visions of people who’ve crossed over before,
I wonder when Charon shall finally appear?
Shall it be him who appears on this new horizon?
Or shall it be someone or something else?
The everyday mortal world moves on as before:
Regardless of one’s wealth, poverty, fame, shame, infamy.
I guess now all the ancient mysteries of the universe,
Shall become obvious and answered in kind.
I wonder what shall be said to me and the reception?
Thumbs up or thumbs down—I guess I shall find out.
The pale yellow moon now appears brighter . . .
As if a special message cometh soon from a winged angel.
Hope this helps to answer my lingering questions . . .
As the dark void from the mortal world grows greater now.
I feel a gentle tug pulling me upward now from Earth’s grasp,
Into the majestic arms of infinity and into God’s eternal light!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
June 12, 2016 (Lyric)
At the end of the rainbow, dreams unfold.
And some people say there is a pot of gold.
How well I recall a rainbow one day
that shone in the sky when a storm went away.
Rain pelted my car; I felt so afraid.
But as I neared home, it started to fade.
The sky, once so dark, grew more and more blue.
I thrilled next to see a rainbow arch through!
It bent toward the mountains, so beautiful,
a peace and great joy welled up in my soul.
No pot of gold at its end did I see,
but still there was gold and it beckoned to me.
The mountains were gilded with a bright gleam.
This is the magic that makes poets dream!
When I got home, I took paper and pen
and wrote of that beauty, God's promise to men.
Again I recall how my soul lifted.
At the rainbow's end, God's love is gifted.
like nature in spring
begins the season of life
winter a blessing
where memories are best kept
waiting the resurrection
© Harry J Horsman 2018
SUMMER’S END *
Down her meadow’s sweetness
By name of Summer’s End
This smallish thatch work cottage
With it’s proper artful sign
Hung at eaves with slightest tilt
By portal in decline
Should some young and searching pair
Choose certain bend of woods
And come upon the scene by chance
Imagine now their fond surprise
That first adoring glance
She’s not so much sad longing
As a fixed point of warmth
Her leaves but yellowed barely
Far distant hills all purplish glaze
It’s Summer’s End for keeping
Till a good life’s end of days
Dave Austin
* Correction - thatch work cottage. Thanks to Keith Logan for the correction
As the gold leaves on the ginkgo fall,
Upon the cold autumn earth.
I think how the winter winds
Sound, as they whip as if in mirth.
Winter is upon us, cold lies ahead.
Can we bear the storms of aging?
I can't help but those dread.
Sometimes I feel like raging.
Dear Lord Jesus, give me strength,
To face and handle each day given.
Help me be the kind of person,
That will be delighted in heaven.
Not just for the reward of gold streets
Nor of the river that flows
And, oh! that tree of life
Food for the body and soul
For the reward of meeting Jesus
And see those Christians gone before.
The awesome sound of the heavenly choir
As they sing original lines, set to a new score.
Oh!! To have love in my heart
A kind of love I have never known before.
To feel a part of a group of people,
Whose love does not keep score.
It stands on a hill overlooking the bay drenched in ocean spray
That cedar shake house where I used to live high above the Fundy bay
A well trodden path leads from its door on to a winding road
Flanked by ditches where Morning Glories and Sea Salt roses grow
That winding road comes to an end at the shore of ‘Evermore’
A magical place where seagulls soar above the ocean’s roar
Lavender walls rise high in the sky through a veil of silver mist
Where the ocean shatters and falls in pieces against those lofty cliffs
And those footprints I pressed so long ago still lead me to this day
To that old house high on a hill overlooking the Fundy Bay
It is a place where the land bows down to kiss the misty tide
Where rolling waves bring memories of the place my heart resides
~~~
When Autumn veils my season's smile
and lingers in the air a while . . .
though Indian days be gold spun,
my summering will come undone.
Night's shadows fall more quickly now;
birds sooner too forsake their bough.
No tarrying for old friend Sun
when summering becomes undone.
Oh, warmth of Summer, leave me not.
Through Winter's frost I grow distraught.
The melancholy has begun;
my summering will come undone.
As Autumn veils my season's smile,
my summering will come undone.
I’ve received an incredible gift
It has given my heart such a lift
But the date that I see
Is what now concerns me –
It’s the date I no longer exist!!!
Today I was gifted a 'lifetime' premium membership but it is somewhat disconcerting to see it ends on 3/20/2077. I hope TPS aren't psychic!!!!
My mother's great great aunt lived to 111 and 121 days and was in the Guinness book of records - I hope I am around a long long time to make full use of this incredible gift.
14th October 2016
YOUR BETTER END
To be
To stare
To contemplate
To risk
To dare
Once and again
To trust
To leap
A Jump of faith
To fall
To land
No one can say
To forgive
To forget
Or try again
To breathe
To love
Feel whole and place
The fears
The doubts
To rest and then
To grow
To become
Your better end
***
January 20, 2017
In pre-ghost era of my sowing days,
and long before my crumbling had begun,
my feeble goals sparked insufficient blaze;
the avenue I chose was not hard-won.
I packed a suitcase but misunderstood
the purpose of my journey from the start.
And though I tried to do the things I should,
I needed more to listen with my heart.
Now feeling unfulfilled is what I’ve earned
by carving fate from means with aimless end.
In contrast, some with fervent dreams have burned.
Their minds are set; their time they don’t misspend.
I took the first broad crossroad I was shown,
so paths I sacrificed remain unknown.
For Silent One's Crossroads Poetry Contest
Sunflowers and dandelions.
Sometimes in life it's a fine line.
We go outside to breathe the air.
Look around, try not to stare.
The little children play and run.
The girls are screaming, having fun.
Little boys follow along.
Learning the words to write the song.
A bouquet of summer's sweet refrain.
A timeless imprint on your brain.
To carry us into the night.
Beyond what sunshine brings to light.
After all the dreams come true.
But get lost in the dawning dew.
Only glimpses of love survive.
As you awake having to strive.
Finally finding out the truth.
About our fantasy's in youth.
All we wanted was a friend.
And a little love before the end.
It's quiet now, they all have gone
Leaving litter, and last light
softens what was too bright before
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
you ask if I need help, I nod
lend me for once your wings
The coloured quilt as sun does drown
a blanket against whining waves
I dive, depart. I flew so high
***
October 15, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Whether rock-and-rolling or hip-hopping,
you move and groove so easily at first
when dreams are fresh. Oh, there is no stopping
that dance of youth when all is unrehearsed.
By the middle years, perhaps you’re spinning
(cavorting softer if your kids are sleeping).
Can you slow down if life is about winning?
Might you still be twirling as you’re weeping?
With tears of sometimes joy and sometimes grief,
it’s not too long before you’re dancing to
the Golden Oldies (turned that “final” leaf).
Be positive! Choose well the dance you do.
May you be blessed with grandkids and hand-clapping.
Pace yourself and keep those toes a-tapping!
July 11, 2021For The Last Dance Poetry Contest (NA)
Submitted Aug. 10, 2021 for 'A Brian Strand 1 to 14 line' Poetry Contestst
The day is done. Travel dispersed, no more roaming.
Between dusk and sunset, it’s the gloaming.
I settle to watch, inspired by that instant moment,
When day gives over to night a regal bestowment.
Lights begin to shimmer, as we near twilight.
Across the horizon created a radiant glow so bright.
This magical moment captured with a deep ruby hue.
Detailing an exquisite hefty crimson etched in view.
Streams of color blend seamlessly in swirls of delight.
Heavily embossed across the faded sky, birds in flight.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold,
As night’s velvety blanket begins to unfold.
Whispers of a breeze wafting gently, flickers a scent.
Evokes aromatic bursts, sensual yet earthy by intent.
With a sweetness, and a warm tranquil overtone.
I am nestled snugly, captivated by joy I've never known.
Capturing my imagination of a candle in glorious blaze,
My breath extinguishing it to create the dark night haze.
The sun peeked out cautiously
on the rain-drenched land
Gathered her rays across the skies' way
toward the shore’s tight-packed sand
Stopped of a sudden, as she noticed a flower ~
petals upward, smiling “Yes I can”