Leave Taking Poems - Poems about Leave Taking

... Surrounded by myriad friends at his leave-taking surrendering his soul, to Whom and waiting, waiting for what... They clasped hands, freely hugged nodded k......

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...It is said that if only one person remembers you then you will live two lives; one after you leave this world the other within that person who still recalls you, but when you are totally forgotte......

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...Juvenilia: Early Poems VII These are early poems I wrote as a boy and as a teenager. The Leveler by Michael R. Burch The nature of Nature is bitter survival from Winter’s bleak fury till......

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...Hello Welcome, warm Greeting, saluting, hailing Salutation, address; farewell, toodle-loo Parting, tearing, leave-taking Sad, departure Goodbye May 22, 2021......

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...Juvenilia: Early Poems by Michael R. Burch In the Whispering Night by Michael R. Burch In the whispering night, when the stars bend low till the hills ignite to a shining flame, when a showe......

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... Today September 30, 2020 By: Miracle Man My mind is wrapped in times long past, recapturing moments of what life has wrought. Sensing that I’m nearing the end at last, I’ll leave ta......

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...What Good Are Our Tears? by Michael R. Burch What good are our tears? They will not spare the dying their anguish. What good is our concern to a child sick of living, waiting to perish? Wha......

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...Beckoning by Michael R. Burch Yesterday the wind whispered my name while the blazing locks of her rampant mane lay heavy on mine. And yesterday I saw the way the wind caressed tall pines ......

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...Leave Taking by Michael R. Burch Brilliant leaves abandon battered limbs to waltz upon ecstatic winds until they die. But the barren and embittered trees, lament the frolic of the leaves......

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...Come Down by Michael R. Burch for Harold Bloom Come down, O, come down from your high mountain tower. How coldly the wind blows, how late this chill hour ... and I cannot wait for a met......

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...Observance by Michael R. Burch Here the hills are old and rolling carefully in their old age; on the horizon youthful mountains bathe themselves in windblown fountains... By dying leaves an......

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...We’d said goodbye, were at the door When my favorite little boy Came running with just one last hug, The kind I most enjoy. “You can’t leave, Nana. I won’t let you!” Clinging to me, tight. I’......

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...Night rewrites day, transforms the blues with ink-wash, urges me to forget grapples, tasks, drudgery, hard surfaces and hardened people as all things soften, lighten, blur— even gravity p......

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...I swept the floor, but it's dirty again...pretty much what I expected. The accumulation of dirt and grim is something safe to have projected. If cleanliness is a thing which one truly desires Then......

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...I wonder ?, have pondered ?, have analyzed the boxes, the cages, the walls my little Girl, my young Woman, finds herself packaged in, trapped in, stuck behind, believing that they have come into b......

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