Best Losssweet Poems
One
little
morning peep
she would speak to
greet my day, my sweet
African Grey . . . She was
my friend, my confidante. I
bottle fed my baby bird and . . . .
we would sing. Such joy she brought me in
her sweet way. My precious friend died today.
For the "Blink Contest" Sponsored by: John Heck
Note:
***My daughter lives alone with her two pet Siberian Huskies
and her 2 and half month old African Grey Parrot she named
Dharma. Jennifer called me this morning at 5am crying to tell
me that her little bird died at the Vets. I wrote this Etheree in
her honor.
Whenever I smell the sweet aromas made by a log fire,
I recollect past times of great desire.
The crackling of the wood, the heat it produces,
Only more and more memories induces.
There was a time in college that I spent a Summer outdoors,
Each night, around a campfire, with a dozen others.
We sang and laughed and enjoyed life you see,
Mostly, we enjoyed each others' company.
Oh, we cooked our hot dogs and burgers too,
But when the guitars came out, we knew what to do.
We sang our songs of the joys of life,
Few of us felt then the pangs of strife.
Things turned that Summer, at least for me...
My father died rather suddenly.
I remember the call I got with the news,
The fire, that night, had different hues.
The coals that burned and sparks that flew,
Foretold of a life...different and new.
As I grow older and by some chance,
Smell wood burning in a fireplace by happenstance.
I recall that Summer when my world changed
You might say, my life was "rearranged".
When I hear the hiss of embers that die,
I think back to a time when I asked, "Why"?
Yet, it is still the happy moments of that Summer I miss,
With the sweet aroma of a wood fire, and its burning hiss.
For I would not trade that Summer you see,
It has a special place, here in my memory.
And once in a while I go back to that spot,
Where I was young, with passions so hot.
The sound and smells of a campfire remind me...
Those times are "burned" in my memory.
no one to protect,
precious lily of the field
beauty rare and joyous life
taken long before its time
Lily, Lily white and spotless
small and sweet but tortured she
fragile, gentle, caring Lily
dancing, singing, playing, laughing
life cut short by senseless rage
bruised and battered for no reason
by a monster with no feeling
Jesus, keep sweet little Lily
tightly in your loving arms
kiss her, hug her, hold her closely
wipe away her earthly tears
now she’s safe and free from trouble
no more harm will come her way
Lily, Lily precious Lily
in our hearts you’ll always stay
Upon my eyes drift specters, of deaths that I relive.
Burned upon my memories, as if carvings unto stone.
Lingering with tortured pain, my stepfather left this world.
I gave my forgiveness, as he struggled for life.
I saw my friend make a noose, later saw her poor hanging form.
A gunshot, self inflicted, to his head, on the anniversary of
his fathers untimely death. Was a young boys only answer.
Peaceful slumber, sweet release, was Grandma's way to Heaven.
With cancer eating within, Mom waited in a coma,
for death to steal her last breath, while her strong will, fought for life.
Loosing three children before birth, did make me question my beliefs.
Shot in the face, by her Dad, a young friend, I watched die.
Her flesh and blood, splattered, warm.
I could not get myself clean and the crack of the gunshot,
still rings in my ears at night.
Yet, still I know not how to die, when the urge comes to visit.
I recognize the fallacy, hidden within it's promise.
It would be done easily with the pills that are prescribed.
But I carry with me a fear. That within my own sweet death,
with my mind then uncluttered,
these images that are entrenched the deepest,
would be my Hell without even the briefest respite,
for all eternity
As i sit here in this four bedroom place that was once going to be our home all the rooms are
empty now the toys that once use to fill the floor are no longer there the hangers that your
clothes once hung upon now hang there bare there is none of your sweet laughter that once
use to fill the air gone are the sounds of your footsteps upon the floor gone are all the
fingerprints that you left on the walls gone are the sounds of your voices calling down the hall
gone are all your sweet kisses from upon my face gone are you from me no one will ever
take your place
To see your smiling face.
To feel your sweet embrace.
To hear your laughing voice.
To hold you and rejoice.
To kiss your sweet little nose.
To tickle your cute little toes.
To share your whispered secrets.
To embrace and safely keep it.
To have you in my arms again.
To have forever never end.
To have you one more day.
To have JUST one more day.
Clara, Clara come out to play
And rise from your satin bed
Close the door against the day
And I won’t tell you’re dead
Clara my sweet Clara
The angels bid you wake
The tyrants rise before your eyes
Against a closed mistake
Clara oh sweet Clara
Remember why you’re dead
And why you lay among the stones
That gently forms your bed
Clara, Clara come out to play
Awake oh gentle loom
And weave your meaning in the day
And out from the tomb