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Best Loss Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Loss poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of loss poems written by PoetrySoup members

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The Best Loss Poems

Details | Loss Poem | Create an image from this poem.

In A Sad Blindness, One May Yet Find Hope

In A Sad Blindness, One May Yet Find Hope
           (The Solemn Prayer)

Raining splashing, fierce winds blowing and huge trees sway
I pray not for all this, on some other black day
With dark blue shadows plotting my early demise
I seek deep wisdom from sages worldly and wise
Not just some clever words to soothe this shattered heart
Instead sweet hope, light in words, to this life restart
With power to waken these world-blinded closed eyes
Stop salty tear drops falling from splintered skies.

On this day, life should see past these looming black-storms
Find solace in love, hope and my loving wife's arms
Yet that stone wall, yields to nothing but great power
Far more than this broken soul can muster this hour
When thus lost, can one ever find again that Light
Healer of dagger stabbed wounds, found on a dark night
I pray, gift wisdom to walk that one true-lit path
Release this sad soul from, this evil, wicked wrath.

Raining splashing, fierce winds blowing and huge trees sway
I pray not for all this, on some other black day
With dark blue shadows plotting my early demise
I seek deep wisdom from sages worldly and wise
Not just some clever words to soothe this shattered heart
Instead sweet hope, light in words, to this life restart
With power to waken these world-blinded closed eyes
Stop salty tear drops falling from splintered skies.

Robert J. Lindley, 2-07-2017

Syllables Per Line: 
12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12
Total # Syllables: 288
Total # Words: 225

Note-  I decided to write this poem, this morn. About half had already been composed in my head yesterday afternoon and I finally sat down now to put pen to paper.
Believe me, in that it was not an easy task to finish this and be satisfied with the results.
Maybe I am just tired and stopped because of that.
I don't know. Maybe on another day, I could have and would have thought this lacking and rewritten it..
But today, I have only enough to say, this is as it is(and thus it may stay), hope you may find it agreeable and not fault me too much .......


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017


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Behold Death

Behold Death

Behold Death in your loving arms.
Embrace it as you would the loved
one who passed…entering another 
realm, as they are still hovering near
and can hear, see and feel
your grieving emotions.

You may not be able to visualize
them, but may sense their presence.
Feel the comfort they are trying 
to offer by crossing the boundaries of
linear time from one realm to the next
in the beauty that residing divinely on 
the other side affords us.

We are able to sense their essence of
spirit that will remain with us always
until we too join them in their existence 
that has no limitations and is bound only 
by collective souls living in harmony.
Behold Death in your loving arms.

10-13-18

~Poem of the Day October 15, 2018~
Thank you Poetry Soup Team and Members. 



Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2018


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Grandpa

 


The old man sat with eyes closed, dozing in his chair
Until a little voice he heard say “Grandpa, are you there”.

He gazed upon a little boy while waking from his nap
Then reached down with a sweeping move and placed him in his lap

The child was carrying a book that he wanted him to see
He held it up and  asked him “Grandpa, will you read to me”?

The old man cleaned his glasses then opened up the book
And suddenly the two of them a wonderous journey took

They ventured lands so far away, sailed seas not sailed before
Met knights and kings and wizards on every distant shore.

Together they fought dragons, saved damsels in distress
Freeing lands of monsters and the treasures they possess

When the old man closed the cover to end their magic ride
He told the boy “We're much like books, what's important is inside”.

But one day when the boy arrived and rushed to Grandpas chair
Much to his disappointment, his Grandpa was not there

He ran to find his mother for surely she would know
Why the chair was empty, where did his Grandpa go

She sat him down and asked him if he remembered in each book
The adventures and the journeys that he and Grandpa took

He took you there to show you the things that you can find
The wonders that are yours to see if you open up your mind.

But he still walks beside you in the stories you have read
You're not left to go alone, he’s just gone on ahead

The child then went and chose a book and climbed up in the chair
And opening up the cover whispered “Grandpa, are you there”?


Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2011


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Belongings

Shadowed in the silent room, the daylight's nearly gone
Dusk climbs in through window glass, with one last ray of sun
I start the task, climb on a chair, reach up to shelves so high
to mother's boxes neatly stacked, and dust gets in my eyes

I take one down, to look inside and sit upon a chair
I find some musty linens, laces needing some repair
Discovering old photographs, the year was '42
Her face was smooth as porcelain, unblemished, young and new

Old documents and letters, a history unveiled
Her letters, torn and yellowed, such stories they would tell
The next box held small china cups, so lovingly embellished
And then I found a book of verse, inscribed with poems she relished

Some dresses stained and wrinkled, their fabric thin and tattered
Were once a thing of beauty, as if they really mattered
Her jewelry, gold and silver, some lovely rings and brooches
A warm sensation circles me, her presence now approaches

I sense a change come over me, and fleeting leave of gloom
The darkness of the evening lifts, as sunlight fills the room
She wraps her warmth around me, her fragrance in the air
My loneliness is free to go, I know that she is there

Among these things, I find the last, the smallest box of all
Inside it are the baby clothes, I wore when I was small
A letter there to tell me that she knows the tears I've cried
Her words of love that never died, they fill me up inside

These treasures speak her words to me, and now that I am grown
She wants to tell her story, those parts I've never known
I've heard her voice, while sitting here, among her china flowers
I"ve found such peace, she's next to me, to spend these quiet hours


____________________________________________________________
Written 6/8/2008
Submitted to Contest:  "Old Jewelry or Just Old Things or Old, 
Old Poems/Poetry Contest "
Sponsor: Broken Wings


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2008


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winter's afterglow

stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains,
delicate pure white flakes danced;
swirling, twirling, rhythmically.

she stood, nose pressed tightly
against the window pane; gazing in awe
at the magic the snowflakes created;
as tears spill from her emerald green eyes.

the cabin is warm, radiating a comforting glow
a fresh pine scent lightly sweetens the air;
she fights the memories, as she begins to shake.

fingers entwined, she tries desperately to hang on
be present in the moment;
"stop, stop, stop" she says, stomping her feet;
she falls to her knees; quivering. 

she holds tightly her arms and begins to rock,
feeling his presence in his favourite black sweater;
she cannot bring herself to take off.

giggling sounds permeate her thoughts
cocooned in his aura, his essence, his scent;
she feels his lips kiss the nape of her neck,
his strong hands caressing her hair.

she rocks and rocks, time ceases to stop,
as she falls deep into a rich
moulton pool; his smouldering brown eyes.

her lips part; barely into a smile at
his joy when he surprised her with the cabin; 
their oasis away from home.

she wipes away a tear, beams from within
as she recalls the snowball fight, he lost, she won.
he scooped her up, carried her with glee,
over the thresh hold of their cabin; 
their oasis; their heart's retreat.

a decadent white rug bought just for her
lay invitingly in front of the fire,
fiery orange embers crackled and glowed.
he gently laid her down; "my beauty" he said.

they drank champagne, drunk in each other,
wrapped up in his care, she felt peace.
as they lay basking in winter's afterglow,
he whispered "this is my time, i must go".

startled, she sat up, staring deep in his soul,
as snowflakes twirled and danced, 
fresh pine lightly sweetened the air;
he breathed one final breath; then he let go.

her screams were not audible, her body convulsed
as she lay on his chest; her heart; her home.
she cursed the night and winter's afterglow
sobbing "not him, not him, please take me too".

she fights to bring herself back
to the here and the now,
as embers slowly dim, she wobbily stands
clutching tenderly his urn, she must set him free.

the stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains
she opens the window, where dreams breathed of life;

with tears cascading
she releases her love; her life;

to become one 
with the magic of;
winter's afterglow.


Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006


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Some hearts can never be tamed

Once when my soul spoke, you betrayed every word. Then your tongue promised to only sing with sincerity. I danced for a brief while, lost in your angelic orchestra. Until I stumbled and you fell, crushing our garden of roses. Then keys fused only sad sounds. Maybe it was me, but i'm sure it was you, who left me alone on that boulevard of broken promises. Vivid violins cried, until you snapped their sorrowful strings. And I was right there, but your eyes deceived you. You thought it was rain drops, not the tone of my tears, electrocuting the heart of my weeping guitar. Chills from your silence froze suppressed emotions. Creating ribs of steel, which shield flesh that is now stone. Now your love belongs to another innocent man. Who doesn't know your song, nor how your garden blooms.
Simple Musings Silent One 28 February 2018


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2018


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Her Grace, Soft As The Silence Of Morn's Falling Dew


Her romantic letters, birth as heart pure and true supported deep vows we both swore to be held to. Her grace, soft as the silence of morn's falling dew with vows to keep hot passion of love that is new. Spring had brought this loving angel truly divine her beauty and purity no words could define. Spirited, she sang - forever united hearts Her soft kiss and moans, treasures found on no star charts. Nature spoke to her and she in turn gave away nuggets of its splendors, rich truths none can betray. As Heaven and Sky blessed her every foot fall she never said uttered a word needing recall. Her time on earth, gifted only goodness and light romancing her first love and precious was her sight. Spirited, she sang - forever united hearts. Her soft kiss and moans, treasures found on no star charts. I read her yearning poetry each heartfelt verse and in her rapture was my being’s full immerse. Word-whispers from the page caressed me wispy thrill reminding me of days sweet gilt of daffodil and petals pink neath dream girl skies so soft, in sooth enchanting was the tender season of her youth. Spirited, she sang - forever united hearts. Her soft kiss and moans, treasures found on no star charts. In quiet hush before sunrise our love was lush until aurora banished night in her gold rush of dawning tipsy in wine-stained heavens shinin’ desires spilled our lusty reds across horizon - a blaze of colors branding love’s intensity, time and space sparked by fired hearts’ electricity. Spirited, she sang - forever united hearts. Her soft kiss and moans, treasures found on no star charts. Enlightened spirit from defeat of sorrow’s foe, her gift, in written verse of love, to set aglow a life of beauty echoing the words of love now distant in the skies with kindness up above when golden strings of sacred lust remain in thrills of woven love, entangled in a braid of frills. Spirited, she sang - forever united hearts. Her soft kiss and moans, treasures found on no star charts. Her fragile throne of virtues goodness cast in gold beyond eternal love, angelic charms behold through mortal death returned to God’s celestial care to guide from heavens, words of wisdom in her prayer endowment of the past as lover’s hearts enlace with charms beyond life, she remains my saving grace. Spirited, she sang - forever united hearts. Her soft kiss and moans, treasures found on no star charts. Robert J. Lindley, Susan Ashley and Teppo Gren (a collaboration - unified in one poetic and indistinguishable voice.) October 2, 2018 _________________________ ~ Poem Of The Week ~ Week of October 7, 2018 It is an honor for me to share in this recognition with my gifted collaborators, Robert Lindley and Teppo Gren _________________________ Poet’s Note: it is once again, my wonderful pleasure to be able to contribute my verses to this lovely collaboration in fellowship with my esteemed and immensely talented friends Robert Lindley and Teppo Gren. Robert, your initiation of this heartfelt poem and your invitation to compose with you and Teppo lead to a waterfall of inspiration upon reading your artistically beautiful, soulful and stirring verses. The shining light of your brilliant talent continues to lead the way and burns ever so brightly. Yet again, Teppo, your golden verses are filled with beauty, emotion and imagery that leave me in awe of your poetic expertise and bountiful talent. I am so fortunate to have the opportunity to continue to create splendid poetry with two such sensitive and artistic souls - thank you, dear Robert and Teppo, for another most delightful, creative and satisfying poetic experience.


Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018


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MORNING OR MOURNING

Such precious gemstones Morning dew shines like diamonds God’s tears from heaven Written on 18th February 2 days before my father died Posted 22nd February 2015


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015


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a new beginning

with each crest of a wave
forming white crystal peaks
she weeps, inhales, let's go.

beneath a star studded vista
a resplendent guiding light
arms open, palms up, she is free.

the soothing sea winds
carrying away her grief and sorrow
hands posed in devotion, she smiles.

in a seascape of serenity
her baptism place of choice
she steps forward, her new beginning.













02-17-2017


Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2017


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Silent echoes of her tongue

It's always those who reside in our hearts,
whose words, like lightning,
electrocute our soul,

and in each pain there is a lesson.

Her life was like a room without a view,
those 'rainy day' eyes, 
could have formed a deep river,
but no ship sailed upon it,
to carry me to her

and I would have kissed away every tear.

Misplaced, I could feel her yearning,
for a home, she had never known,
confused and lost, but her silence,
left her trapped in burdensome meadows, 

and I wonder if I could have shown her the way.

From the silent echoes of her tongue,
I could feel the malady of her spirit,
feel the lacerations piercing her heart.
If only my words could have soothed her,

but even they could not save her.

As the lights dimmed, 
silent stars became the nature of my poetry,
I asked the moon why?
but clouds covered his expression.

Now my mind is a time machine 
of her memories, her voice still haunts,
as I ponder if the thunder will persist,
because I'm too afraid to close my eyes.

Simple Musing
Silent One
4 October 2018



Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2018


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Will Shepard

The day Will Shepard shot my dog
His barn burned to the soil;
The flames licked at the Autumn sky,
The smoke as black as oil.
I dropped the torch onto the earth,
And felt the whole world turn,
I stood and watched Will Shepard’s barn,
I stood and watched it burn.

The day Will Shepard shot my dog
I set his horses free,
They galloped over grass and sand,
They galloped to the sea;
I dropped my whip onto the floor
And thoughts turned to my gun
I stood and watched Will Shepard’s herd,
I stood and watched them run.

The day Will Shepard shot my dog
I put him in the ground,
My bullets found his heart and brain,
He fell without a sound;
And as his lifeblood ebbed away
And light fled from his eyes,
I stood and watched Will Shepard leave,
I stood and watched him die.

And now I sit here in my cell
And through the bars I spy
The carpenter with wood and nails,
Who builds my gallows high;
My vengeance has been satisfied
As far as I can see,
For that old dog Will Shepard shot
Meant all the world to me.


Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2006


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What Only Angles Hear

Daddy never did understand.
That violence doesnt bring comfort.
A lost soul seeking acceptance from a unwelcome hand.

She was silent no one ever knew.
The secrets behind her bruised eyes.
A shocking victem none but all had a clue.

She cried to empty walls never speaking aloud from fear.
A confession of pain and shattred trust.
this is only what angles hear.

Scars selfinflicted  are better than that 
dirty feeling.
As she lays a broken shell gazing  at the celling.

She questions if others know what will they say.
Doing whatever it takes to stay numb.
Innocence lost a parent should never betray.

The guilt was placed apon the wrong head.
Void of all emotion.
No child should yern to be dead.

At times it gets to uncomfortable so in 
another direction we  steer.
For at times it's just to painful to stomach.
What only angles  hear.


Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009


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Tissue Box

like visitors from outer space
they came with tears, and lined the sidewalk
long in face, and arms embracing
some (I have no inkling) who
they were or why they felt compelled to come 

dozens came with casseroles
a few with flowers, wads of tissues
tender words of helpless mutterings
many acts of generous offerings

don't get me wrong, I watched the suffering
expressed in words or acts of kindness
I watched it all, and felt the love
did not dismiss the warm compassion
returned it all, with pure compliance
a thankful heart, a swollen throat

I hugged these strangers at the door
to comfort them, who shed their tears
upon my shoulder, offered them
a place to share their sympathies
a place to spend their mercy, pure

                but, this was my child who loved and lost
                impossible........I can't express it

protected from the very start, by
loving hands, her dad's and mine, 
we watched her grow, and let her go
she grew from the vine ....into a rose
but life composed a tragedy, with goals
beyond our reach...beyond belief
beyond our wildest dreams
and left her with a loss beyond control

like visitors from outer space, we watch
as others come, and others go
they blow into their tissue wads
and empty the boxes one by one
and cry with us,  and then they all go home...

do we cry........?  Oh no, not yet...
instead we smile a grateful smile
and thank them kindly for the while
and for the ways they share their love
but we can't cry into our own clenched wad
of tissue from the tissue box
she needs us to be strong, somehow
and so that is the way it is, we vow...to hold back all the tears for now


                for, this was my child who loved and lost
                impossible........I can't express it
      __________________________________________





4/12/13


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013


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this was me

it began so innocently
we exchanged ideas on poetry
his art, the suffering he endured
he preyed upon my compassion
as he meticulously bided his time...

i felt safe as we expressed
our mutual love of words
i was excited, i was learning,
unbeknowst to me, i was his prey..

many months and thousands of hours, 
talking, reaffirmed my trust; faith in him
he shared his life, triumps & tragedies
i supported all he desired for himself..

i understood, i felt his pain, 
his drive i admired, he overcame tremedous odds,
became a doctor so others would not suffer as he had;
he baited me; the innocent and naieve one.

living life with no regret,
i chose to take a leap of faith,
he guided me, alleviated my fears,
of promises to cherish and adore me..

as a tiger waits patiently to pounce on his prey
i was oblivious to his hatred inside,
he was a master of manipulation
his mission - to destroy me..

i felt he was worth giving 
up all i knew to build a life
he so lovingly described to me,
little did i know, his words - poison..

america bound i left everything i knew; i loved.
the terror of his drunken rages, his icy silence,
the cruelty of his words stung like red hot coals.
what he admired most about me,intensified his hatred.

the vacancy in his eyes was terrifying, 
i was alone in a strange country, 
knowing no one, in a house, not a home, 
full of tension, rage, abuse; numb and in shock;
this was my reality..

with each painstaking day of living in terror
dreading his arrival, my fear reached new heights;
i had enough; i was leaving.
his rage increased, his words pure venom..

i was numb, shaking, fear drove me to action
he became desperate, i did not sleep 
for fear of never waking, his actions so terrifying
i felt a strength within, empowering me..

planning my escape, fear became my ally,
i reached the airport and did not stop shaking
until safely on the plane, doors shut, 
moving down the runway to take-off;
i wept, i crumbled, i collapsed.

jubilantly at home, i felt peace, safe, 
and soaked in the beauty of my freedom; my home.
it has been six weeks; i have flashbacks, 
terror still haunts me; i am determined 
to not let another change me.

i am healing and am grateful for every
moment i smile, smell a flower, witness
the marvel of each sunrise and sunset.
i am a blessed girl.

~this was me~ 


Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2007


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Introvert wings

Extrovert eyes express cimmerian connotations, hidden within silent chambers of an introvert mind. Thoughts twist and turn, but disguise frustrations, as a melancholic heart struggles to remain kind. Drained by energies from those who fail to understand, soul seeks solitude to energise back into life, Searching for a comfort zone in the promised land, before insanity cuts deeper than a poisoned knife. Confined to dogmatic chains results in confusion, as faith becomes an enemy within critical cultures. Torn between paradise and social seclusion, soul seeks solitude from vociferous vultures. Complicated compromises mean hearts will be broken, yet introvert wings yearn to be free so they can soar. Life is a balance of words voiced and left unspoken, if only it was as simple as walking through that door. The Silent One Simple Musings 18 July 2018


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2018


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I learn to live with the silence

I learn to live
with the silence.
Thoughts echo
in the empty house.

I transform your room
into my space,
place
candles and shells
on the windowsill. 
Your books are still
on the shelves –
old friends
who keep me
company
and speak of you.

August 13, 2018


Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2018


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SEX AFTER 40

(WARNING  SIGNS)

You are old and fragile
Claiming to be a lion when in bed
In some way, you remind me of the walking dead
Your bones make sound when walking across the room
Rattling, as if they know your end is near
Confusing rigor mortis where muscle mass once stood

You say you have stamina that has no end
Until now, your back hurts when you move
Losing count of every inch that got away!!!
With your moods constantly changing,
I prefer not to mention the belly fat around your waist

Then you have romantic days, you plea to love
You chase down a Viagra pill with red fuzz
Seemingly, without adding depression to your day
Pill's are the only object expanding when swallowed
40 some, and you think you can romp around the room
I yawn, yet you are the one tired, next to doom

Dusty and old you boxer shorts
Can't remember the last time you stayed up late
Kicking the bucket every time I talk about S E X
Your hairline aged with time, bold and bald 
I forgot which one you recalled this morning
Perhaps these are signs of low testosterone 
Merely in the meantime............... R.I.P. WILL YA!!!


BY: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


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Things That Seemed Poetic

Listen to poem:
Things that seemed poetic were always sad,
though I yearned for sparkle
and my dad's guffaw, which never came.
Familiar things were always drear --
repeated motions in the same old game.
There were only distant glimpses
of budding spring, fleeting views
of daffodils. The strongest
poems dealt me death and dying.
Yet I always hoped, never went under
to gray despair, always dreaming
of a garden of love that we could share.
But those forbidden delights faded
quickly away; the only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal death and dying.


Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2011


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Screaming at the Sky


Screaming at the Sky
Mothers screaming mournfully at a deaf sky holding their heads helplessly as they cry pitiful tears for innocent, defenseless children slaughtered in fatal cross fires, deadly drug wars drive-by shootings, and cases of mistaken identity on blood-splattered streets, senseless endless violence; but who really gives a damn, only grief-stricken mothers screaming mournfully at a deaf sky.
(Form – Enjambment posted as Verse – 8 lines with 7 words in each line. The 1st line and the 8th line are the same) 10-21-2014 Contest: 8 Lines 7 words ~ First and Last Line Must be the Same Sponsor: Rick Parise Placement: 2nd


Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014


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Under the Willow Trees

A path strewn thick with ruddy-faced leaves
led to nowhere and everywhere in fantasies, 
our near-death rescue from boredom 
        come afternoon chores and homework pages 
                                                                 wrinkled in time.

I try to recall all I tried to forget. 

Back home, under the willow trees, I weep
for childhood, friendship, 
                         for innocence surrendered,
all I thought I could keep, fuzzy lines
           between love and loss,
 practical days that come with age.
I close my eyes to see through tears -
          you,  a dance in rain showers, oval-spheres
of costume jewelry, tea parties and dragons slain 
rays of sunlight climbed, 
imagination uncaged,
             carefree hours,
                 diamonds in darkness,
restless dreams fell like leaves
                       on the wrong side of the tracks.

Two kids set free in skies shaded gray -
we said forever, a pinky swear I remember,
naïve in make-believe worlds. How many years
passed by, miles kept between you and I?
A phone call once-in-a-while reminded 
of our   bitter, listless eyes, 
        our disappointment in distant words.
I hope you always knew the truth,
                    I loved you, dear friend.
It was myself, I hated.

Time cradled our laughter,
held it on the breeze, 
                         childhood secrets
shared with ease on our path, 
thick with               summer's dead leaves.  

We, too young to notice, 
                          fell into brittle leaves 
                                          trodden bare 
before first snow.

Our laughter now echoes in dreams, 
chaffing our willow trees 
                                       still sulking low, 
moss brushes away tears in timeless beauty, 
         and waits for you to come home.



An old poem, revised 3/15/17
249 words total


Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015


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Forty Today

Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…

the orange tinged carnations 
were a perfect complement 
for the skies
and for you… 
orange and blue
always remind me of you

the winds softly blew
and I just sat there
staring at the grass,
well more at your name really…

hardly believing
what I am looking at, 
that it’s been seven years

of missing you,
of just putting that reality
at the back of my mind…

But there are days,
such as today
which make me 
confront that reality—

I see your smile,
remember your laughter
celebrate your spirit
and your love

Tears, I tell you I have
the most stubborn tears
maybe because they 
make it so real for me?

I look around me
and look for that sign

Nope, not there…

I say a prayer
and speak to you
thankful for the life shared

I kiss the date that you were born

and walk away

my reflection on the car window
misty

One last look around,

and then I see it…

a cat, as we drive away…

Skies now streaked purple and pink


**My brother would have been 40 today, May 6…



Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011


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My Heart Beats For You

Walking aimlessly through the woods
Searching for that spot we once stood
Pouring out my heart and my tears
Reliving memories of those special years

Red and orange and purple from green
Rich autumn colors, a sight to be seen
The winds of change quickly blowing in
With it a new chapter will soon begin

Not ready to give up, I can't let go
Where am I headed, where will I blow
Lost without you, what am I to do
Darling, my heart is still beating for you


Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014


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Looking Down My Street - A Collaboration

Looking down my tree lined street the setting sun casts her glow upon the Chestnuts, Maples, and Oaks dressed in worn out yellow ribbons telling the story of friendship and loss strength and courage. How there was hope and there were dreams. That life wouldn't pull us apart. There was community and passion and smiles each time you went through that revolving door. We prayed, yes we prayed for us that we wouldn't lose you that we wouldn't be missing someone so true. I raise my head up to the skies washing away a lingering tearful cry and remember .... Your amiable soul, dynamic, invincible and unique Your stupendous dose of humor, indulging, infectious and unstoppable. Your enthusiasm to give, to share, and your boundless care Your friendship, a treasure trove of trust worth. Wherever you were, there was harmony, and a breath of fresh air You were a friend, who never postponed one minute of life You used every minute to fill ours with joy I raise my head high and remember i remember the moment my laughter died that moment when I asked why Why are the good, the chosen ones, to suffer for others 'evil Why do they go first, why do they die young Why are they now far, so far ? In that moment of helplessness and doubt In that moment when faith was provoked I cried like a child, I didn t need another hero, I just wanted my friend back I wanted him so bad to be near, to survive Once again I raised my head, I got lost in the sky, And I swear I saw him with these eyes And I swear, I heard him with these ears He said, 'Death is not for the living, I am so much alive ' Then, it was night ! I raised up my head, and a luminous star lit my once darkened sky with warm breezing light.


Copyright © Cupids Arrow | Year Posted 2015


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Butterflies

They flutter and hover
And float on the breeze.
They shiver and shimmer
And weaken the knees.
Fickle and fragile,
They tickle and tease.
Fleeting and flimsy,
Deceptively free.  

These frivolous creatures, 
These knots of desire.
Once spindles of yearning, 
Now spools of barbed wire.
Once pulling like petals, 
Now pricking like briar.
Once soothing like honey,
Now burning like fire.

Violently thrashing,
It struggles to rise.
The truth comes up gasping
From whirlpools of lies.
Shed this charade 
And discard your disguise.
I know you enjoy
Drowning blind butterflies.


Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2012


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INTERMINGLE

I wiped away a single tear That had fallen from my eye (You told me simply we were friends) You left me after only a year (But you conceal your aching heart) I often sit and ask myself why Looking back on our time together I remember those halcyon days (My love for you it never ends) I thought we’d be together forever (You told me simply we were friends) Now memories are a fading haze Your hair so dark with eyes of brown (Dreaming of you my heart ascends) So full energy with a sense of fun (Forbidden love keeps us apart) Always happy you were never down We’d go out together and have a run (You told me simply we were friends) You’d always reward me with a soppy kiss (But you conceal your aching heart) I’ll never forget the day you got knocked over Never a day passes when you I don’t miss How I loved my darling dog Rover 03~05~15 Do You Love me – Triolet ~09~26~14 How I miss you Rhyme - 09~22~14 Contest - Intermingled – Craig Cornish


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015