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Best Poems Written by Lise Clendening

Below are the all-time best Lise Clendening poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Lise Clendening Poem

The Person I Used to Be

I miss the person I used to be,
You would have liked her too—so full of life and carefree.
Her glass was always half full,
She saw the bright side, ever hopeful.

No matter what came her way,
She’d just smile and face the day.
Grieving the self that’s now long gone,
Knowing a part of her is beyond.

The emptiness now shapes her today,
Sadness, like an uninvited guest, lingers more than joy in her day.
Aware of how fleeting life can be,
She still rises each morning, thankful to thee.

Hiding behind her mask is grief,
Sorrow and pain, she’s still in disbelief.
She stands tall, remembering the past,
Memories burn bright, forever to last.

She misses her to the depths of her soul,
A loss so profound, it takes its toll.
Her love for her transcends time and age
Everlasting through all the stages.

The ghost of the mommy she used to be
Is now in heaven, rocking her Karyn gently.

Sunrise
The flame of love is as 
pure as the day she was born
May 8, 1993

Sunset
The day of mourning etched 
in her soul
January 12, 2024

“Your life was a blessing, your memory a treasure. You are loved beyond words and missed beyond measure.” — Unknown

Details | Lise Clendening Poem

The Promise

The gleaming of the sun on the snow in the winter
Teases your eyes with the rays – Squinter
Pupils dilate, taking in the glorious fluffy whiteness
The eye can see the vastness

The wind howls, deceived by the coldness
In one big gulp, it swallows a drift in its boldness
Survival hides beneath the mound of white
To emerge when it is time – excite

Life flows and ebbs, even in the stillness
Birds pecking in the chillness, so relentless
No leaves, no shelter from the storm
Side by side on a fragile branch – uniform

The game of life, so fragile from birth
When the snow melts, there is a rebirth
Tiny wings and baby steps – towards
Marching to the beat of another day – forward

Breathing,
Living,
Loving,
Trusting
In another tomorrow
The promise of a future you borrow

Details | Lise Clendening Poem

We Will Triumph

Sitting in the waiting room in pre-op,
weight and height taken,
filling out a two-page form,
your hand trembling with age.

A history of a long life,
the body betraying the best years—
the Golden Years, where time moves slower.

The neck that needs physio,
the knee throbbing after hours on your feet,
the heart beating in time
with the new pacemaker,
its battery promising at least ten more years.

Thankful for technology,
we get to hold hands another day.

The myriad aches and pains,
a fleeting smile—
the young man with a full head of hair
and a light step,
looking back at me.

Forty years of a good life,
not wanting to see it end.
Together, hand in hand,
we will triumph.

Because each second, each minute, each hour,
each day we have together
is a reminder—
of the life we’ve built,
of the love mirrored in our eyes.

What a wonderful reminder
of the simple things in life,
as we sit together,
with hope.

Details | Lise Clendening Poem

Facets of Life

Grief
So profound
Following me around
Peeking from the shadows
Surrender

Surrender
To slumber
Close your eyes
Count the little sheep
Goodnight

Goodnight
Little prayer
On your knees
I thank you, Lord
Heaven

Heaven
Blue sky
The stars twinkle
In harmony with Thee
Angels

Angels
Amazing Grace
The banjo plays
For those on earth
Hope

Hope
Within me
A deep stirring
Thawing my frozen heart
Eternity

Eternity
Loving Thee
Delivering the message
Live your life fully
Deliverance

Details | Lise Clendening Poem

Church Bells and Jelly Sandwiches

Every Sunday, my sisters and I would tag along with Mom
To the church down the street,
Excited for the day to unfold.
Mom would wear her Sunday’s best; I remember she looked so elegant,
With a fancy hat on her head.

We’d walk up the many steps as fast as we could,
The church bell ringing as we knelt.
To this day, I believe it was the most beautiful church.
The memories created as a child bring so much comfort.

Mother handed us each a dime, clutched tightly until
The basket was in front of us—
The offering.

Each visit down that way finds me passing and longing for simpler times.
My sisters and I would excitedly hurry ahead, knowing our next stop—
The little corner store.
The Ma and Pop shop where you were treated like family,
And a little treat made its way to our hands.
Nothing too big, just enough to feel the sweetness.

We’d hurry home, especially in the summer,
To gather blankets, a bread bag holding peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,
And a big orange cooler full of Kool-Aid.
The trek to the beach felt long,
But frolicking in the water on a hot day
Was pure joy through a child’s eyes.

Arriving home with sand in our hair and in our suits,
A reminder of a mother’s greatest gift:
Start the day with the Lord and end it with
What memories are made of—
Priceless childhood moments
Dwelling in the recesses of your mind,
Made even more magical in our twilight years.

Details | Lise Clendening Poem

How My First Poem Was Born

My daughter’s last breath
my first poem, “Stay,” was born—
a sad mother’s grief,
desperate for a reason
to stay for another day.

Details | Lise Clendening Poem

When A Blind Man Cries

There is no denying this feeling,
Butterflies fluttering with dread inside.
The melancholy sound of the blind man cries,
Echoes like sorrows in the corners of pain,
Lamenting like a melody so full of angst,
The devil smiling triumphantly, perched on his shoulder.

Sorrows so deep,
Keeping me up at nights,
Searching desperately for an inkling of light,
Listening to Glenn Hughes to help me through the night.

Darkness envelops me in all its might.
When a blind man cries, you know without a doubt
It’s a cry of agony felt from the very depth of his soul.
The one that promised forever is now playing a different tune;
A new lover’s lips are being explored,
Sweet nothings prose-penned to expose
The deep emotions evoked with a certain look—
That’s all it took, no need for goodbyes.

Sorrows so deep,
Keeping me up at nights,
Searching desperately for an inkling of light,
Listening to Glenn Hughes to help me through the night.

Falling on my knees, begging for mercy,
Calling all angels to wipe these tears away,
Promising my earthly life and all that I have
For the return of your embrace.
Not caring, the blood escapes and trickles,
Cutting all ties as I cry along to “When a Blind Man Cries.”

Clutching my chest as the scream is muffled,
Enveloped in darkness, a sorrow so great—
No light within and no light without sight,
A distorted picture of a man in plight.
The danger is so real as he curls up broken.

Sorrows so deep,
Keeping me up at nights,
Searching desperately for an inkling of light,
Listening to Glenn Hughes to help me through the night.

Pulling him from the pit of misery,
His ears straining and feeling a flutter of hope,
As the record player is playing the last hurrah.
A blind man’s eyes still weep,
A blind man’s heart still feels.
He crawls over and gingerly drops another beat.

Sorrows so deep,
Keeping me up at nights,
Searching desperately for an inkling of light,
Listening to Glenn Hughes to help me through the night.

When a blind man cries,
He hears No Stranger to Love,
Released by Glenn Hughes in 1986.
No longer in darkness, the eyes now see.
Music and the legend behind the lyrics
Will always be there when the blind man cries.

Details | Lise Clendening Poem

Flying High

The airport is packed, and the lines are long,
Reminiscing about the days when standing for hours was nothing when you were young.
A volunteer comes and pulls a few away to go to the next one—
Times like these used to be so much fun.

You finally cross and head to the nearest bench,
Lollygagging on your phone when a voice bellows something in French.
That voice, that tone—your eyes meet the gaze,
Your heart skips a beat, and you look up, amazed.

A chance encounter with an old flame—
The flame you tamed still feels the same.

Smiling broadly, you’re pulled into an embrace,
The smell of his cologne lingers in place.
A surge of memories brings a flush to your face;
You manage to squeak, “What’s the chance of meeting in this place?”

He is returning home to France.
You’re playing in a match of chess in his hometown—no chance of romance.
“The flight is long; let’s get together for old time’s sake.”
Your mind is saying, This could be a mistake.

The torch is still smoldering after nearly forty years.
You think of the last goodbye and the tears.
His hand reaches out to a strand of gray hair.
He winks as you take in the salt and pepper in his hair and try not to stare.

Tomorrow is not promised, but today is.
You link your hand in his; you can be his Miz.
Walking side by side and flying high,
A complete one-eighty, and you sigh.

You feel lighter; the future is brighter,
His hand holding on tighter.
A poem in the making,
Your reasoning is out the window—it’s an awakening.

What was meant to be will be.
You both agree to a degree.
You’re soaring as one and free.
Life comes with no guarantees.

Details | Lise Clendening Poem

The Battle of the Two

The aroma of battle between cheese and charcuterie is in the air,
As the red wine flows and cider that tastes like a pear.

Rack after rack full of bottles to sip,
I race between each place and leave a tip.

Taverns and Shacks.
Places to sit, sip and relax.

I am writing a post on the war between the palatable wine and delectable cheese.
The winner will not be a breeze. 

Each step I take brings me near,
A war of the cheese makes me fear.

Who will win, Gouda or Brie?
There is no guarantee.

Cheddar and Mozzarella stand with pride,
Bidding for the honour to be certified.

Across the towns, the people unite,
Drinking wine and eating cheese in tiny bites.

Families gather around the charcuterie platter,
Excitement in the air and plenty of chatter.

Tastes like heaven,
Wine and cheese that is the question. 

The taste grew for the wine lover too,
It has been an honour, bottle after bottle, drinking the brew.

The fight continues between the pairs,
A mouthful of delightful crumbs,
which one will succumb.

Sipping or chewing, a marriage at best,
White gown and tux, we are blessed.

The eternal romance of the paring of wine and cheese.
The moments were bliss, as together they appease

Details | Lise Clendening Poem

The Space between Stars is not Empty

The space between stars is not empty by far,
Where those departed too soon go to rest as angel stars.
Once their earthly life ends,
A new beginning among the stars transcends
All melodies, all poetry, and for eternity.
The stars twinkle the brightest in unity,
Playing chords on the piano or the cello,
Playing their best for those on earth below.

A celebration of memory and love,
A tribute to the lonely, the sad, the forgotten, the beloved.
Their voices in union softly praising from a better place—
Amazing Grace.

The connection is felt throughout the world,
Eyes cast to the sky as warm memories swirl.
A feeling of peace and connection exists,
As tears fall down our cheeks for those we miss.

Timeless,
Priceless—

There is space for you and me at our last goodbye;
Our resting souls will hold a piece of the sky.

Our brothers and sisters nestled among the stars,
Encore after encore, raising the bar.
Their wings flutter so gently,
Surrounding those on entry.

This is what I believe to be living in the space between the stars:
A homecoming, a celestial gathering of all our superstars.