Best Keepsakes Poems

His jazz collection fills the spare bedroom
Music man, you see, was his nom de plume

Our wedding album rests on the nightstand
A keepsake for my viewing...

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Love lingers, in the objects of stone left behind,
holding pleasing recollections of welcome footfalls;
the painful memories, most, spent of love declined.

Those last few months of...

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I dreamt a dream that renewed kindred memories
Rekindling past passions of moonlit love-themes,
Enamoring love-embers blooming heartfelt longings,
Crooning hints-romantic~ life’s a beauteous dream;

When merrily you enthralled...

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      Before my flowing, poetic pen is hushed in Quietus,
And I have reached my journey's end with folded hands;
 ...

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“The heart hath its own memory, like the mind, and in
It are enshrined the precious keepsakes, into which is
Wrought the giver’s loving thought.” Henry Wadsworth...

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It’s been many years since I’d climbed the wooden steps to my parent’s attic. The hinges of the trap door creak and a cloud of...

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To all the fallen of Covid 19
whose deaths were unrecorded and unseen
To those who languished in intensive care
where Fear unmasked itself to mock each prayer

To...

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In a busy world I don't take for granted simple pleasures
like snuggling with a loved one on a chilly winter's night
Saving keepsakes of the things...

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A wooden flute,
              I glimpsed among my mother’s treasured keepsakes in childhood. 
...

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One Toy Soldier

Little toy soldiers are all put away
Training is over for this time of day.
Where do these little boys go now to play?
Away from...

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Endearing the gods of enlightenment, dip tenderly into the rainbows
Color band of intrinsic light, softly breathing, as the hushed breath of
A morning doves first coo...

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On August 29, 2005, the "Rain and Rain and more Rains came", destroying everything we had worked a lifetime for.  My home that we...

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Bent fingers trace embroidered leaves
on satin and long lacy sleeves.
Blush roses, twenty-six she counts--
A French word she can't now pronounce.

She blows dust from old envelopes
tied...

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While holding frail roses close to the breast,
I think of a dawn, so perfect and fair,
ardent with sunlight and warm on the crest

I watched from...

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This barren night along dim street
where lamp posts hide drops of gold flakes,
and thorny weeds crack at her feet
to sift death's crumbs, throwing keepsakes.
 
Yesterday's...

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