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[Poetry Index Page]

Page One:
Mourning

Page Two:
A Happier Note

Page Three:
Love & Romance

Page Four:
Something from The Attic

Page Five:
More Dust from The Attic

Page Six:
Poetry I didn't throw away

Page Seven:
Bar Napkin Art

Page Eight:
Poetry by Charles, Jr.

Page Nine:
Poetry by Carrie

My Poetry 1

This page is lovingly dedicated to my Mom.

Dark Anniversary (for Mom)

Time has passed so quickly,
I never thought it would.
That warm, sunny day last fall
seems like a dream.
I remember saying to my love
(the only one who doesn't judge)
"What a beautiful day to die."
Now, as the leaves turn green again,
and spring fills the air,
that day comes back to me.
It's true, that old cliche,
time does heal all wounds,
but the time won't erase
all the vivid memories.
And though I remember your pain,
the way disease shrivelled
your body and mind,
I won't succumb to melancholy.
Instead, I remember the times we were happy,
I recall the hugs, the laughter, the joy.
And as your love washes over me...
I miss you.

Last Sleep

When I close my eyes to
leave this earth and time,
never to wake again,
what answers will I find?
Is heaven an inky void,
no sight, no sound, no smell,
no horizons to venture toward,
no purpose, no ambition?
When I am finally free
of this wretched existence,
will I find the heaven
promised me as a child?
where the lion lies down
with the lamb?
The paradise of brotherly love
and spiritual gratification?
When at last I finally die
I know I will see heaven, but
is it up there in the sky,
or of another dimension?
I do not know, I do not fear,
though I often wonder
the where, the why, the whether,
of death, of soul, of heaven.

Mourning

The shock should not have been so deep--
she was ill for many years.
Paralysis, dementia--
we knew the end was near.

We watched her body shrink away,
her hair grew lank and gray,
we wept when conversations waned--
she had no more to say.

Still we went to visit her--
to babble at her side,
read the bible, hold her hand,
blot teardrops from her eyes.

Soon it was unbearable,
her pain was so intense.
The drugs they used no longer helped--
her final solace...death.

The shock should not have been so deep,
we prayed her peace to come,
but now she's gone, we want her back,
she's missed by her daughters and sons.

Poetic Links

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Suite 101

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