Short Hospice Poems
Short Hospice Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Hospice by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Hospice by length and keyword.
I walk down this street
Away from the hospital;
Last place where we meet.
None of us held true avail
Over how God would greet you.
At hospice my relative died
Let's rejoice the choices he tried
We could celebrate
His life that was great
But you continually cried
Palliative to hospice,
I jump from stone to stone
The river waits in silence
—its waterfall unknown
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
Palliative to hospice,
I jump from stone to stone
The river waits in silence,
—its waterfall unknown
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
one flickering light
at the end of a dark hall…
hospice nurse running
Date: 19 Mar 2019
Contest: Writing Challenge 3- March 2019 - Senryu Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart
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life has left this sterile white garden
bent as a willow, I keen above blossomless beds
grieving those roses that once grew here
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
One candidate will rave, lie, cheat and molest
The second seems ready to be a hospice guest
But we have a third choice
With a strong forthright voice
Half his mind is brilliant, but a worm ate the rest!
hospice nursing staff
comfort the sick and dying
angels without wings
Dedicated to the staff at the local hospice who cared so tenderly for my dad in his final year of life.
Angels Senryu Contest sponsored by Marvin Celestial
04~05~16
frost on winter roses
mother’s adult bibs arrive
in time for supper
she is bedridden
ninety first birthday today
both joy and sorrow
Mom remains stoic
from greatest generation
to funeral plans
Thirty years a nurse
hospice nurses now caring
for her ~ life cycles
From my smartphone
fear rings
through
knock, rattle, hospital hospice sounds
We connect.
Tonight all I can think about is your voice, Jean.
The last call.
Vibrations continue
fading
ivory white and black keys
notes play out
on Dakota land
snow and deep deep holes
from roots dug out.
From a hospice bed
To a special dinner date
And a wet Red Rose
I hold in my heart
The memory of that night
My Rose bush still blooms
In my night garden
My Rose bush exudes that night
My heart is embraced
A gentle rain falls
Creating weepy puddles
Reflective mirrors
© Brenda V Northeast 6th Feb. 2012
Very sick with leukemia toward the end. It almost seemed as if mother was giving up after what she considered a hard and disappointing life. She still held her boys in her eyes in the fading light.
“I'm not planning your funeral,” the doctor said.
winter sun
stretched to twilight
faint stars
Giving up,
we lose ourselves
in soft denials,
tally up bone-tinted
Kodaks – recall
brief glints of eye,
succinct resemblances
of generations.
Listlessly,
we wait
death’s domination—
cool brushes
of wind,
flutterings
of waxen wings
& last breaths,
dusky, distant
as the webbed
membranes
of memories.
this netherworld
this hospice of broken souls
this travesty of triumph’s trauma
blank pages
telling stories
sightless readers
sifting the ash
of scorched lives
charred character
seeking solace
on the edge
of night
©10/14/2018
for – Soap Opera Titles Poetry Contest
sponsor – Sian St. John
Her hands shook
as they wheeled
him away.
Had his lips
been dry?
Had his body
ached?
Had he longed
for a touch
against his
fragile skin?
Could she
have done more
to relieve
his pain?
Could she
have loved him more,
needed him more,
begged him more
to stay?
Her head swam
in the deafening silence
of guilt and sorrow
as she
buried herself
for feeling
relief.
here, between myself and myself,
God dwells when
He flees the world.
I found Him once
in a forgotten loaf of bread
on the steps of a hospice,
in an old woman asking forgiveness
for simply living.
He did not ask who I am.
He touched my brow
and retreated back into the wound.
we do not think.
we defend ourselves from thoughts
as from a fire burning within.
…waiting’s knife
slices time in broader swaths
stacking jagged moments
chaffing minutes raw, in existential unease
…one second snags the next
…the knife dulls
moments fray and shred
tomorrow folds today; time’s teeth - rounded
memories meld a transcendent balm
deeply rubbed by fading voices
a hospice hallway dims…
one light - grows brighter
SURPRISE
S eductive sea of your tranquil eyes
U shered me in for an adventurous dive
R eceived resplendent corals nice
P eppy pure vibes of love came live
R ed and throbbing your heart’s hospice
I opened its door and got a splendid surprise
S pell bound was I to see the shiny oyster shell
E mbossed on the pearl my name in golden gel!
20th October,2016
I light my candle from within the more I give to you,
An inner strength builds inside, it fills my empty soul,
The encompassing love present when my life was askew,
Needing a reason to get up every morning was my goal,
Volunteering at hospice gave me more, filling a gapping hole.
Written by Lee Ramage
September 18, 2011
Contest by Paula Swanson
“By Candle Light”
his final journey
in a huge black limousine
death comes to us all
the funeral cost
he won’t have to pay the bill ...
grieving relatives!!!!!!
I know the florists
make a 'killing' out of death
no wreathes when I'm gone!
I don’t want any
floral tributes when I die
give me flowers now!
I would much prefer
charitable donations
Hospice benefit!
10/18/18
though Mom's memory
is slow she smiles at photo
taken many years
ago when life was simple
with no confusion chaos
Mom's hospice nurses
are thorough even small things
are giant matters
as life's boundaries implode:
sleep, dress, eat, nap, sleep, repeat
long term memories~
through it all she still recalls
her little girl (that's me)
(her jewel) I'm by her side
as she finds eternity
Coughing and sputtering...
The cold night air hurts my lungs...
I inhale my cigarette and Google the freezing point of peroxide...
My days have turned to mundane madness...
My nights blurr past like a speeding train...
I dream of breakfast even though it's 9 at night and I'm awake...
I count my nickels and dimes in hope of a biscuit in the morning...
Life is just a long hospice stay...
Merry Christmas
Hobo Butterfly
Rest here
Weary Monarch
Though Monterey calls you
No flight for broken wings that seek
Healing
Born in this arbor - this hospice -
Begging release to fly
The wind express
Again!
4/28/20
Based on an injured butterfly, in our garden, that hitched a ride on the grill of our car. We think he finally made it to Monterey and we have had butterflies in our garden ever since that summer.
Meat to the hungry
Drink to the thirsty
You did it to the least
You did it unto me
Hospice to the stranger
Clothes to the naked
Visitation to the sick
And to the prisoner
Minister deeds and truth
Prove faith by works
Judgment with mercy
The needful things
The basics of life
Care for Christ
You who are blessed
Take your inheritance
Ere resting in peace
Warm and fill
Encourage and heal
With your hands and feet
Mother hears a choir singing,
or so she tells us from her hospice bed,
she also hears the church bells ringing
to mark the trailhead ~
farther on the path she knows leads home.
She is content with the life she’s known,
with few regrets she packs her bags to move
to her celestial home built so long ago,
Mother says the angels reassure her there is nothing left to prove,
come greet your friends and family in heavenly tableau.