Best Farewell Poems | Poetry
Below are the all-time best Farewell poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of farewell poems written by PoetrySoup members
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New Farewell Poems
Don't stop! The most popular and best Farewell poems are below this new poems list.
Bid It Farewell
by Yeates, Owen
by prabhu, shruti
by Ochwo-Oburu, Solomon
by Cunningham, Tom
A True Farewell
by Cheasty, Alex
The Autumn of Farewell
by Latham, Tamara Beryl
by Turner , Heather
Old Year Waves Farewell
by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Wall Clock Farewell
by Raburn, Kristie
The Last Farewell
by Sami, Mubarika
View all new Farewell Poems
The Best Farewell Poems
Teardrops, bagged eyes, a way of sin
The mirror reveals a lost eternal soul
A conniving move against tonight's phantom glow
Voices circle around the insomniac moon
Like magic and beauty, "She's Gone With the Wind."
The idea of love,
broken like yesterday's wishbone.
She is leaving today,
her arms, my shelter
her wings now immense.
Beauty --- she's gone forever!
Never will she suffer-
Never will she return-
All I have are lost memories,
tracing what is left.
One final deep breath
to wash away the pain.....
At Last, Now I See!
Under the drunken stars
I had an epiphany
Stricken like a match
A sunken treasure
At Last, I Knew
You did not belong in there,
you were there for the taking
Frail and sick, no longer sane.
Memories lost, no longer - her
What has become of her since?
You're a demon, who played us all
Made us cry, while she slowly withered away
The way you laid waste to her body
nipping both her legs
Fed her through a stubble
She rapidly forgot
I hate you Alzheimer
I hate the way you took her the first time!
I hate you Death
I hate the way you claimed her final moment!
Sleepless nights and pillowed feathers,
Caress a precious moment around my tender skin
Pretending my mother tucked them in
Anything to help me get past my sleepless nights.
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
I tried my best
To live between your cruel words
Yet there was no room
I felt less
Smaller than small
So why didn't I fit?
Now that you are gone
Who's words had you borrowed?
Did the pain you gave to me come from another's broken heart?
Was it too much to bare?
I now have room at the end of your sentences.
Not forced within the confines of your spaces
Tracing the manicured pearls of your wisdom
You have not had the last word
I am not doomed to your hypothesis
I'm willing to dance on the edge
My cliff is of note
worthy of jumping from
For I am not Icarus
There is no reason to fear the sun
Only your ice will melt from my wings
I do not wish to re-live your convoluted nightmare
The drifting of your mind
Those barriers to my existence
Freedom at last
At the end
At the end of your sentences.
The lesson I learned is that the only one who can define my being is me.
I also learned that painful words and curses can be passed on from generation to generation unless we put a stop to it. I thank God for the strength He provided me. I have been blessed beyond what I expected as a child.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2017
Fly me to the moon and I’ll sing a lullaby
let's make our dreams come true, we’ll soar above the sky
with moondust in our hair and starlight in our eyes
we’ll wish this world away, bear no more plaintive sighs
Sail with me to Eire while I hum a bonnie tune
come frolic on her shores, come skip atop her dunes
no one here can harm us for there's nothing here to fear
we’ll only sense the good, shed only happy tears
Roam with me through Eden and I'll chase you 'mongst the trees
come taste each juicy fruit, suck nectar like the bees
let's live with pure abandon and sleep in pleasant dreams
we'll navigate the landscape, bathe in her crystal streams
Ride with me to Camelot on horseback in the rain
we'll stop to catch a joust, then tear across the plain
no one here can stop us now let's leave this awful place
come with me in haste, blow this town without a trace
Fly me to the moon so I'll never have to die
the universe is mine, come ply eternal skies
with a rainbow for a ship and a moonbeam for a sail
let's leave this earth for good, trod endless stellar trails
Copyright © July Morning | Year Posted 2017
A few poems written by Chan Hurst, (Just That Archaic Poet)
I hope that we can find some comfort in them at this sad time.
"A Rational Explanation"
What must I do to see this through-
Unlock the world I never knew?
For all I've seen hath been untrue,
As all I've felt hath plagued me, too!
I am no more, past Deaths before
I've reached the end of Living War-
(to see through eyes both blind and closed)
A life to touch, but never know...
"Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep"
Every day, to God I pray
For answers to Life's enigmas
Patience lays in wait to stay-
To cleanse our Social Stigmas
We pass the time in our idle Dreams:
Like fallen stars in singing streams
"A Happy Ending"
Remorse and regret, I mustn't forget
Remind me that Life is a process of Learning
Indeed for I sorrow'd; 'twas always upset
As the Truth was met with painful discerning
But now my eyes are open-wide,
Grew to love what I once despised
I am no longer sick inside-
I just feel happy to be alive
"A Master's Approval"
No happier could I ever be,
(Or feel a joy's enormity!)
Than to know a Soul as Poe-
Would say he likes my poetry!
"The Poets I Hope to Meet in Heaven"
I pray that in my Eternity,
I'll meet Shelley, Poe and Emily
That we'll all sit down at a table round,
And at length discuss our Poetry!
And Longfellow, lest we forget
Lord Byron, Shakespeare, and beloved Keats!
If I prove their favorite Poet,
I could accomplish no greater feat!
For all my many silly musings,
This one I covet above the rest
For my Soul's toil- finally proving
That the Masters love me best!
"Heaven For A Poet" by Kelly Deschler
My own piece of heaven, a quiet little nook,
With only the finest parchment in a leather book,
A feather quill pen and an ocean of ink,
My thoughts would never stop to think,
Every single line I write would rhyme,
My poetry would be beautiful and sublime,
I'd be entertained daily, by Dr. Seuss,
And, put to bed nightly, by Mother Goose,
Lessons from Byron, Shelley, Coleridge and Poe,
Teaching me every single thing that they know.
My own piece of heaven, will have to wait,
Until one day, when I must meet my fate,
So, for now I will have to be content,
With my own words that may be heaven sent,
Inspiration from my idols is all I need,
Writing poetry in a notebook from Mead,
With this cheap, plastic Bic pen,
And a dream to be, just like them.
This poem was one of mine that Chan had faved, so I thought it would be appropriate to share this now and dedicate it to him.
I will always miss you, BP, my brother in poetry, but I sense that you are smiling down on us now.
I know that Chan idolized Edgar Allan Poe. I remember him telling me that someday,
he wanted to share a table in heaven with that "good ol' E.A. Poe".
So, Chan, if that is what you're doing now, I envy you, my friend!
And, you said that you would personally invite me to that little gathering, remember? :)
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
stairway to the stars
celestial light beckons me
no puddles overflow with tears
my life’s silent movie
reruns in my mind
not a loved one left behind
those I cherish
wait for me
lingering in paradise
below the Earth loses color
even the pyramids
to those still confined in the worldly realm
no legacy I leave
just a kiss that carries
rapidly vanishing memories
my final farewell
*Written September 4, 2014, by Carolyn Devonshire
For Guatami’s “The Poet II – Poetry Contest”
Theme: Leave you a kiss
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014
Introducing: Carl Fraser & Poet Destroyer
Oh Paint me a far away horizon
Across a tranquil azure sea,
Where sits a peaceful deserted island
Where no one lives but me
Free from prying eyes and greedy lies
Free from scars that never heal
Let me be free to just be me
Instead of someone who isn't real
To live out my days giving thanks and praise
To my creator in heaven above
And leave behind the noise of worldly toys
And just bask daily in his love
To be stripped of pain by the spirits rain
And washed until my robes are clean
For I've had enough of my fellowman's company
And I'm disgusted by what I've seen
So I will step into my painted horizon
Framed in a forever state of bliss
And I turn back only for a fading glimpse
As I blow the world a farewell kiss.
Laced by the seas we see, you beg for a life so far
Far from all I've dreamed of, tranquil and spirit rain
A once false painted paradise,
Bliss, a farewell kiss, drowned by old heartache
Not knowing where it's coming from
Yesterday, I woke up to a new skyline,
The horizon, formed by your eyes,
Across a tranquil azure sea
Far from all existing companies, you stood
In front of the ocean - your ocean!
Sailing on the calm side of the turquoise sea
Stripping back into the innocence you once were
A gentleman, caressing the oats in a peaceful state
The moon breaking your once trusted mind
The silence of heaven heals every scar inside
Redemption is a secret we beg for
It was always you, someone lost, misguided by love
Somebody, I once dreamt of, A dream lost out at sea
Calling out for me --- you chose to pray alone
Repelled by the world so cold, yet here I stand
Alone, on the other side of the farewell kiss
For you, I paint a faraway horizon of bliss, my friend
Waiting -Dreaming -Escaping --- In another lifetime
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
When I see the moon, I think of you.
When the flowers bloom I think of you
but with the rain my teardrops fall.
If only I could have given my all.
I would have been the happiest dreamer
that ever dreamed a dream.
The sun would shine
if only you could have been mine.
I would have danced all the time
and sang a song of love to you
that to no one else
I could ever do.
Instead a hymn to God I sing of thanks and praise
that He my dead heart did raise
and for a little while I was aglow
with love I thought I’d never know.
But alas, sometimes I give in and grieve,
my feelings on my sleeve.
Heartaches and blood seeping through
my skin so thin.
And I pray forgiveness
for this sin
of nursing the pain
I should hold within.
But because I loved you so
I knew I had to let you go.
I will always be blessed
by the day you came my way
and loved me too
like no one else could ever do.
So, my dear.
Do not fear.
I will always be here
thinking of you
and seeing your face
that from my mind I can’t erase.
I just pray to God to please be kind and next time ‘round
we’ll be born on the same blessed ground.
By: Carole O’Terry Duet; Copyright: 6/11/2018; “All Rights Reserved”
Copyright © Carole Duet | Year Posted 2018
Thirty Eight ( Corny Cancer Poem) For Sharon
Hallmark has a million cards in their catalog
And not one of them says,
American greetings had nothing that says
Thirty-eight and Never coming home
So I hope it’s not too late to write this poem
After your eighth round of Chemo,
The Doctor says the best medicine is prayer
Any Pre-med drop out
Or High school Health student
Can interpret what this means
But it still just isn’t fair-
Still who am I to be a pessimist?
And I apologize for screaming at your surgeons
(Telling them to stop comparing
your tumors to fruit)
For telling them you aren’t a damn fruit stand
Even for tossing those fruit diagrams
In the Hazmat can
Sorry if I let things get out of hand
Tomorrow they get to pull out
Their zapper instruments
And shoot at your cells like you are
One of those Nintendo video games
Over and over again
And I get to sit in the waiting room
Hoping the red cells surrender
And the white ones win
And Tylenol has a zillion dollars
And can’t even find a cure for cancer
Bayer pharmaceuticals has no answer
And if you die at thirty-eight
I’ll probably boycott Tylenol
For the next twenty-three years
Advil for the next twenty-two
Blaming both of them
For not saving you
Forty calls to Bayer pharmaceuticals
And not a single one returned
What kind of heroes are they
When they aren’t even concerned?
And I’m pissed off at Obama
And Dr. Phil and Oprah too
And all Nationally syndicated talk show host
Who are talking about who slept with who
When they should be talking about
I’m also ticked at a thousand Nazis
And twenty millions gangbangers
And eight-hundred serial killers
Who have working organs
When all you need is just one-
Still I know you wouldn’t even accept it
Even if there was a law that said you could
And you would say something corny like
God loves bad people as much
As he does the good
And i wish i could snatch
half of my lymph nodes
And give them to you
But no Doctor would approve the surgery
So what else can i do
Except write this silly poem for you
except watch you lose weight and hair
And listen to doctors suggest prayer
And more chemo only means
More Hallmark moments at the hospital
And more crying, more dying
More doctors and chaplains lying
But mostly I’ll never get to figure out
How it took you thirty minutes
At Build-A-Yogurt in the mall
And they only had six flavors-
Even after I told you
Chocolate Coconut Sprinkle
Was really the best of all
Tonight your children get to sleep in your bed
And pretend You’re coming home
And I get to cry for them and finish
This corny cancer poems
Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2015
Memories Of Bygone Days
O' yes, how well I remember her still
giant black oak atop big wooded hill
Those treasured days now long flown by
our free spirits flying so very high
Summer days within Nature's fine realm
majestic views that did so overwhelm
Cloudy days in the meadow far below
flowers galore, O' what a great show
My lady and I went up there to park
glorious scene set our hearts to spark
Under canopy of that old massive oak
she sweet words of undying love spoke
Our tree saw our love start to bloom
picture of that oak in our bedroom
Two years it watched our love grow
how was it to ever see or dare know
Life came and flew on us so fast
love came deeply but failed to last
Fate sent us onto far different treks
love destroyed, both lives were wrecks
Now I pass that massive tree on the hill
memory recalls her beauty , what a thrill
Time destroyed the scene it ruled then
O' the love of what should, could have been
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
November’s sitting at her loom.
For gown of lace, a wrap she weaves,
And when she meets her dauntless groom,
They’ll dance among the fallen leaves.
For gown of lace, a wrap she weaves.
Her groom shall wear a silver suit.
They’ll dance among the fallen leaves,
Their special song, a lone owl’s hoot.
Her groom shall wear a silver suit.
She’ll don the woven pearl-gray shawl.
Their special song, a lone owl’s hoot,
They’ll waltz at Autumn’s farewell ball.
She’ll don the woven pearl-gray shawl,
And when she meets her dauntless groom,
They’ll waltz at Autumn’s farewell ball.
November’s sitting at her loom.
For Juli- Michelle's Rhyme Battle: Round 7 Poetry Contest
on 16 lines of Pantoum
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010
when your heart is weak
not beating well.
Your tired and weariness overcomes
I will hold your hand,
whispering softly in your ears
I am here for you.
Time has come
your eyes saying goodbye
your heart no longer beats
I will hold your hand
saying farewell not goodbye
I was here for you.
I hold you close
in a last embrace
my heart is broken.
Time to let you go...I
kiss your lips and turn away.
I was here for you.
Penned 3 Oct 2017
Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2017
Lost in a poets convention,
I can't recall every poem, I've read through the years
50518, unique comments I 'validate'---
Thank You For Sharing Your Happy and Sad tears
Since March 24, 2010 In the mist of every line,
I'm sending special hugs, for he/she that favorite me through the years
A praise to all poets mentioned and not mentioned
I will miss, the sweetest girl on this block LEONORA G.,
She treats me with love, adores my words and twisted poetry.
I will start with the soups famous October, 7th babies,
Frank and Kash, Debbie D, and myself, these lines belong to us,
Our best characteristic has everything to do with the mind
In our poetic hearts you'll find the symbol of justice and balance
This is not a song, it is not a poem, it's a free falling memo written with style
Back in March 2013, I said it then, I'll say it again
Andrea, you and only you are the Poet Queen
By the Queen, sits the Poet King of rhymes, Robert L. Hinshaw
Thank you both for never stepping on your loyal subjects
Carol B., & Linda Marie, no one can replace the hole you left inside
I will miss all the little poetry pups, who came and sat by my side
MAHIMA and Saanvi, and Sabrina, thank you for the encouragement
Phyllis, Joyce, Francine, Rhonda, Betty, sweet Karen A., and Catie,
Clap your hands for the lovely quiet soup ladies.
Okay, maybe not Karen A., and Catie, these ladies love speaking their minds:)
SARA K., a mentor to some, a Fairy Godmother in my book
I will miss her "Magic Pen like Wand" dearly.
Gail, thank you for spreading your wings, and teaching us how to fly.
Hopefully --wings are a nice gesture, --waving--
"One day I'll see you again, my friend."
Daver Austin, "Go ahead, make my day" thank you for the show
Now, you know why I referred to you as, "The Clint Eastwood of Poetry."
Russell Survey, encouraged my days and moods with his kind words
Scribe ML., where are you my friend?
Don't you know your BIGGEST FAN misses you!!!
Dr Ram, Bindu V, Litan D., Donna J, Shadow, Sandra A., Peter Durgan,
Giorgio V., Mystic Rose, BL Devnath and of course our Nette.
Thank you for being kind and rewinding and replying to every note.
Joseph M., Caleb S., Vincent F., Juliet L., Lucy Carrillo, Scott 37, Johnny R.,
Kelly D., thank you for the honor in always honoring my words
Roger Horsch meets Eileen Ghali, your smile, her smile always made me smile,
No matter how many miles apart, our smiles always met on the same page.
Jenish, Don J., S.Z. Kamoonpuri, Gideon, Gary, Austin E., and Jody M.,
Fatima N., Mark N., Aiyah B., Ralph F., Kathryn C., Elly, Ayesha A.,
Clay W., Erich, Syam, MIKKI, John B., Olusegun, *Sukmawati* Gwen,
Delysia H., Frederic P., Richard L., Brenda L., Keith, Debbie G.,
Thank you for painting the best IMAGERY
Michale Clarke, Charma C., Wayland B., Jancarl C., Carrie, and Harry,
M&M, Abdulhafeez, Michael B., Maria P. S., CHAN and Mandy T.
You are only the beginning of what makes this a good community
Arlid A., Dinda M., Silly Billy, Tim Ryerson, we go way back.
Ravindra, Kim M., Richard S., Honestly JT., Wade A., Dom-X.
The ingredients in your poems, makes the best soup remix
Joe M., Jack H., James H., James P., Tim B., Jon A. C., Allan K., Matthew A.
Deb Wilson, David S., David William, Thomas S., Cecilia M.
Keep that pen flowing for tomorrow needs poets like you.
Justin B., Laura B., your words will continue to be a part of me.
Owen Y., and John L., your visits, your friendship I will never forget
Yasmin and Carl F., hanging out with you on the soup was the best.
Cherl Dunn, and Colleen Bono, SandyIvy, I will miss everything about you,
Mostly I will miss your friendship and the way you took care of me.
Poet and sister Skat, keep rocking what I can't....
Copy paste your love, welcome in the new.
Show Edwina, Robin, Sam B., and all the NEW POETS they belong
Last but not least-- Behind every mess, they are the best
--Craig Cornish and Cyndi McMillan
What have you done, I admit without you this place would have been no fun.
Thank you for the spin, making every penny worth our paid premium memberships
Before I forget,
I want to take this time to reminisce and add two old friends to my hot list.
Nikko and Chris A..... My first POETRY SOUP FRIENDS.
I will never forget you, and all the fun moments we had,
Back when the soup was not like this:)
Chris, can you ever forgive me, I never stepped up to say "I was Sorry!"
As you know my kindness is my weakness
Now it's time to be strong and move on
If one day I return, then you know, I fell off the wagon
And, into arms and luring fingers of Team Poetry Soup
The Poet Destroyer
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender
and exchange inestimable treasures
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013
I was wiping the dust off an old snow globe in the upstairs attic, when a mop of honey-blonde hair suddenly appeared through the wooden flooring.
"I thought I'd find you here," said the voice, warm and feminine. It was a lovely contrast to the thoughts that bloomed inside my head. The little red Santa smiling gaily, his gloved hand forever frozen in a wave. Truth be told it was over a hundred degrees outside, and up here in this cobweb-ridden place (by God) was practically unbearable.
But as I lightly shook the fragile keepsake I found myself dashing through the snow like I once did so many years ago. I heard the sound of high pitched laughter from afar, out in the sultry day (most likely the neighbor kids playing tag through a sprinkler-soaked lawn). But there, at that precise moment, I was taking the road before me, and singing a chorus or two.
"You miss him don't ya?" the voice broke me out of my thoughts, and for a moment I just stared at her as if she had a left over piece of spinach in her teeth. I nodded quietly in the silence and rubbed the smooth curvature of the glass with my thumb. It somehow felt cold, as if winter wonderland was still trapped inside.
I knew I hadn't stayed too long, though I knew my wife would be patient throughout this ordeal, however long it took. She didn't need to recite any famous sayings to pick me up, just her being there was enough. It was the unspoken truth between us, and it was always enough.
"Cody and Angie will be downstairs when you're ready to head out."
"I'm ready now. I was just doing a little cleaning up." It wasn't quite a lie. It was one of those statements we use to say one thing and mean the other. The attic was "okay", but I knew of more dire things in need of some organization.
Beth went down the ladder first, naturally. Then it was me, a bit awkwardly, still holding the snow globe. We both came into the living room, where our children sat waiting. Cody was playing some handheld video-game in his Hawaiian swimming trunks. Angie was quietly giggling at something her friend said, via text. Her blue bathing suit was barely more than a strap, and I knew I was this close from losing it. But this was a happy day, so I let it slide, just this once.
"Are you still not ready?" asked Angie.
I looked down at my blue work jeans and buttoned-up t-shirt. My wife gave her a fierce look, as if willing her to take back what she said. It didn't really matter though ... my emotions were spent.
"I was gonna change when we got there," I said, a bit defeated.
"Whatever." She rolled her eyes and plopped her phone right there on the couch. I just stood there like a lifeless statue, while my family got everything ready to head to the local pool. My wife was as patient as a snail, but the kids bustled about as if they've been down here a lifetime. Cody was mad when Beth took the game-boy from his hand, just before some big important checkpoint. Angie was calling Beth completely unfair for not letting her invite Tom over to come swim as well. My wife told her, "This is a family event, no exceptions, and for Pete's sake, listen to me for just this once!"
I just stood there, in quiet grief. Their voices were mere sounds, plastic and surreal, and I went along with it as if everything was alright. But it wasn't alright. The world was falling apart all around me, miraculously still turning, and I just stood there! Finally I reached for the doorknob, when I realized I still had the snow globe in my hand.
I looked at it longingly, with affection, and it came to me. A slightly crazy idea. Not the kind where it's life or death, but the fact that it was a spur of the moment decision, it felt totally crazy. I placed the snow globe on the mantel above the fireplace, where the glass caught the sun just right and the jolly Santa shone a brilliant red.
Allow me this simple pleasure, I asked God in silence. Let the neighbors gawk and smirk all they want. Let the kids think their father's going senile, thinking it's December and not August. I didn't care. I just watched the little flakes twinkle through out the water-filled dome.
I displayed it proudly, knowing that good will, kindness and love were never out of season. So I picked myself up out of my gloomy state, got inside the car, and slid into the driver's seat. "Alright, let's go!" I said cheerfully, and everyone looked surprised.
"Dad, is everything … okay?" asked Cody, from behind. But no answer was necessary. I just smiled, and looked across at Beth without a care in the world.
And since we've no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
First Published in Dual Coast Magazine Issue #3
NOTE: I've written a few short stories, but this one is special to me. It was well received by my family, and I was so excited to discover it was accepted by a magazine. It was my first non-poem to be published.
Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016
Simple Man, Just Striving To Have A Simple Soul
There was no great air of mystery about him
tho' kind, too much of his life had been sad and grim.
Truth, he would rather take a beating than tell lies
seeing others in hurt brought tears to his blue eyes.
In his gentle life he sought love and common sense
about his past he spoke with no storied pretense.
Upon waking and giving thanks for each new dawn
he sat on his porch, admiring green of his lawn.
Simple man just striving to have a simple soul
live life in peace, love his family was his goal.
Tho' life once led him down a very darkened path
he wore no hatred and displayed no burning wrath.
I felt his great strength, his kindness bore into me
I sprang from strong, blessed roots, his genetic tree.
Now he has journeyed on to his blessed reward
I have faced this world alone, its been very hard.
On blessed nights he appears to me in my dreams
oft telling me to walk besides cool mountain streams.
Then when things get too hot, step in cool aching feet
Find wisdom to not just foolishness dare repeat.
Have you guessed, this true friend, was my beloved dad
loved me with all his heart even when he was mad.
This my humble tribute, inked in poetic words
he taught life, love, beauty of dawn's sweet singing birds.
May 26th, 1973
Rhyme, (Tribute To A Great Man, My Father)
Note- ANOTHER OLD POEM , FROM MY PRIVATE JOURNAL.
Written back when I was a young nineteen year old, remembering my father, his death four years prior and wondering would the deep heartache ever stop.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018
The last gold leaf hangs on the bough;
summer is just a memory now.
You, too, have gone, my golden friend;
our summer days came to an end.
We said goodbye; our chapter closed.
How I will miss you no one knows.
On eagle wings you split the skies;
your spirit soared. You had to fly.
My earthbound soul will bear its grief
severed from you on mortal reef;
but returning from yonder shore,
your love in waves will wash me o'er.
You've gone before, my trusted love;
I wait behind, your mourning dove;
yet, from across the great divide
your voice to me in dreams confides.
No, I think not that dreams they are;
but communion of the near with far.
On such sweet songs I stake my claim
to know and love you once again.
Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014
-Eden's Ending Eulogy-
Proceed here today, Eden's Ending Eulogy
Gentle gracious her garden, the guidance
I can't recall what was with the warm, sincere smile, and sunrise
Lost at ease and clarity.......I Sleep!
Forever In Peace, this dark, damp den, coffin will do
at last, a parting powerful, reunion and resting resort
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014
in the sun
The skin became the bark of a tree
the soul turning to brittle scars
for uncaring worlds to see.
is a pile of
old owl bones
sewn into banks of midnight creeks...
even the plump, over ripened ones
no longer look at me...
but if their car was desert flat,
their oil grim reaper black
they'd paint a wormy, water colored smile...
slide it through my barbed wired heart
so long as I could spin the jack...
so I spin it until their potholes turn to satin-
in the sun
the mind has smoothed over
like pebbles in Saturn rings..
a forgotten spice in the conversation of life
an hour later the word snuggles up to me
Tomorrow or forever( which ever comes first),
I'll stay wrapped inside
till my skin turns back to ivory
to an easter egg yesterday
to a time of bouncing ball and spinning jack,
when the mind was a great silky nest...
the face a flowered meadow place
where watercolors swirled all day,
the heart worms kept at bay.
I'll stay hidden within the weeds,
till the jewels of memories soothe
every scar - every stripe,
the molten knots of cruelty,
till the sweetened fruit reclaims the tree.
until then only my curtains breathe...
...stayed in the sun
Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2013
Yesterday I dreamed a dream,
that had no end.
You in your white gown, and long, black hair flowing.
You were calling my name.
I heard you, but I couldn't reach you!
And when I say your soul was tainted.
You went out in the night life.
You dressed in your black, evening ball gown.
You danced till the Red Sun came out, over the horizon.
You smiled at me.
A flame in my heart burned red hot!
My knees and hands shook with nerves;
Nerves of love and joy.
I blew you a kiss,
but you turned away!
Oh, please don't turn away from me,
for I would die, if it happened again!
Your beautiful and golden heart showed me the truth.
The truth that every gentleman wants to hear.
I've seen you walk the streets,
in the blue dawn of August.
As I followed you, you stopped and looked at me.
You smiled so beautifully, and my heart fluttered into oblivion!
You walked with your friends and I went my way.
I couldn't find a single trace of you that day.
I cried out "Why did I leave her like this?!"
I looked for you, all over the courtyards and town squares!
Yet no sight of your beauty.
... No sight of your golden heart, that I hold so dear to mine.
Where did you go?
Why did you leave?
Why did I leave... that is the question!
I should have stayed by your side,
till the ends of time.
Yet I had left.
One gloomy and parish midnight.
I came along a road,
and soon found myself in front of a wayward cafe.
Smiling faces all around me.
I spotted a beautiful face that outstood all the other faces around me.
It was yours.
Your face brought me to sanity and I went over too you!
You spotted me and tried to run!
I caught you in the dirty hallway and pulled you in.
Our eyes met and I fell in love once again.
Sanity re-entered my mind, body and soul.
I kissed you and you kissed back.
You held my hand, and we left the cafe and walked down the street.
The street was gloomy, yet we together brightened the dark street.
We went back to the lit up city streets, of the lands filled with smiling faces,
and we fell in love and slept together.
You lay there in my restless arms and I gave you a sweet kiss,
upon your sweet and soft head.
Your dark hair was sweet smelling and felt of silk.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep with you,
there in my arms and we dreamed together
till the morning came and woke me up,
and took you away from my weak and weary arms.
I dreamed a dream of you.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
I'm just a lily in a garden of roses;
I'm a misfit, misshapen, a mistake of a seed-
But a lily is all I can be.
If you paid visit each hour
and each time picked a flower
The last one that you'd pick would be me.
You might stop and wonder
Where the wind took its plunder
and carried me far from my home;
And with your head tilted
Pick a rose that's half wilted
And leave me here all alone.
You think that I chose this,
To be stuck with the roses?
Eternally nature's next best?
Or maybe I'm third to a daffodil bud,
Or fourth to a sunflower's zest.
I'm just a lily in a garden of roses. .
Being passed by those strolling along
But no matter how badly
I just want to be picked
I know that I'll never belong.
Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2014
I want to push the clouds away
The morning mist creeping
Near the surface is ready to emerge
Whirling autumn leaves
Leaving a red and orange desert ground
This is right I suppose ~ the time is here now
The summer was too short
Runs faster than a leopard
Autumn goes right through me
Cold gust into my soul
Allready missing the flowers with dress diamonds
09.11.2015 A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015
He wrapped his arms around me
Never wanting to let go
I gently whispered in his ear
Daddy, when you coming home?
He said I'm off to battle today
To heal the wounded soldiers cries.
I don't know when or if I'll be back
The tears began to flood my eyes.
As father walked away
His smile, it did gleam.
His final words to me
Became but a nightmare within a dream.
The bomb rang out
Through the desert air.
When the dust did settle
They found father there.
The soldiers stood at attention
They saluted their brother goodbye,
And the eagle spread its wings
As a true American soldier, had died.
Copyright © Bobby Snyder III | Year Posted 2016
Nauseating thoughts about noxious, and demeaning words
that smell worse than stinking socks on sweaty feet ,
replay in my head making me feel so small .
They swell in my mind , twisting my stomach,
urging me to throw up poisonous venom
of false accusations ,you've pumped into my blood stream.
But I know then , that after I regurgitate ,
this migraine you've caused will be gone, I will be relieved.
I will celebrate the accomplishment of living
without ever thinking of your existence again.
This time there'll be no effort to repair
nor would I feel the need to defend myself
for things I didn't do. This time I make no wrong decisions.
No , I will not be coming back to your illusional lies'parasites.
No, I will not cling to memories of better times ,
and inseparable moments, of sugar coated sweetness
and diabetic aftermath. My subconscious will memorise ,
but only the final act of your dramatic moods.
Our friendship is at permanent loss
But , I won't waste precious time scattering its ashes
nor mourning its death. No there 'll be no regret .
I will walk away from you , from all We ever had ,
I'll let new arms embrace me , and steal me from our past.
This is a revised poem . A big thankyou to all of those who helped me
with their suggestions.
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2016
Tonight,motionless is my sleep
without a thought of you passing my mind
And if the wafting wind breathes softly its zephyr breeze
upon the pearl blush of my cheek
I will not remember you
Like the rattling sound of crickets
on the first branch of Spring
you had come and gone
Now your shadow
blocks the silver of my moon,no more
Like a woodpecker in its last sonata
you stole our music
but I am learning how to dance
without your song
scattered in silence on autumn's sidewalk
Fluttering snowflakes covered my hair
with false proposals and winter frost
Your summer footprints have been washed out
I lay in solitude,I lay in solitude
yet still not lost,No,still not lost
Here I am now, a mourning swan yet still a swan
which pirouettes on a glass stream
There He comes now, splash in calm beauty
Fresh face reflecting upon my dream
Tonight,motionless is my sleep
and if the wafting wind breathes softly its zephyr breeze
upon the pearl blush of my cheek
I will not remember you
Inspired by Elton John's song- 'The One'
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014
There is something about the cuddle of mist
that washes the pain of love's farewell
like a damp of healing elixir,
so softly touching my navel
to ignite back the glaze
within my marrow;
and breaths sing with playful twilight
about fresh enchantment blessed...
Now i greet the flowering of joy
with unopened gifts,
knowing goodbye is a beautiful wound
as one star plays night keeper of reflective hours
humming a new tune, dainty yet unknown,
that in the solace born from ache and joy,
I welcome it all-- the fire, wonder, and sighs.
Thomas Martin:Romantic Fools Contest
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2013