Love Poems About Bereavement or Bereavement Love Poems

Bereavement love poems and/or love poems about Bereavement. Read, share, and enjoy these Bereavement love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by Judith S |
Categories: bereavement, best friend, death, depression, true love,

Laid to Rest

Tears no longer come, dried ducts of wrung emotion, denied one more drop of release. ..but only to feel Feel your finite presence beside me, inhaling your sweet scent to memory. Feel your heart pulsate through the calfskin of the despair that seals me in its snare. Rhythms of a hopeless eternity of love, not destined for us Feel my heart bleeding for one more glimpse, of the exquisite life and love in your eyes. Shuttered now from a lifetime of shared souls. The pianist plays one last song, as tears fall upon your coffin. Won't you give me a sign, to show me the way to you. I wonder what has become of me, my soul a definition of despair, my mind a metaphor for insanity, my heart silenced by the loss of your call. Above, all I see are murky skies, even the stars hide from me. I'm sure the moon shed a tear, when the sun refused to shine on me. In the hope there is no tomorrow, I lay here with your photograph on my pillow. ..but time ticks so slowly __________________________________ A Collaboration - Silent One & Judith S. September 21, 2018


Poem Details | by Tim Smith |
Categories: bereavement, loss, love,

My Heart Beats For You

Walking aimlessly through the woods
Searching for that spot we once stood
Pouring out my heart and my tears
Reliving memories of those special years

Red and orange and purple from green
Rich autumn colors, a sight to be seen
The winds of change quickly blowing in
With it a new chapter will soon begin

Not ready to give up, I can't let go
Where am I headed, where will I blow
Lost without you, what am I to do
Darling, my heart is still beating for you


Poem Details | by Gregory R Barden |
Categories: bereavement, goodbye, soulmate, storm, true love,

Summer Rain


I wade into the surf and stand alone,

     Enfolding in my arms, the dust of You,

               I hear the raving wind lament and moan,

          As if the summer storm is mourning, too..


I breathe your wispy ashes as they're thrown,

     And whisper your name softly while I do,

               I lost you once, and now I've lost again..

          As all my tears are lost.in summer rain.




Poem Details | by Anna-Marie Docherty |
Categories: art, bereavement, body, care, death, death of a friend, dedication, devotion, emotions, farewell, feelings, future, giving, grief, heart, hope, how i feel, i love you, leaving, life, longing, lost, lost love, love, memory, miss you, missing, missing you, remember, sad, sad love, spiritual, strength, symbolism, tribute, trust,

Soul mates solace

When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender 
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories 
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised 
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece


Poem Details | by Robert Lindley |
Categories: bereavement, betrayal, dark, death, fate, loss, love hurts,

Dark And Tragic, When Fate Sets Its Black Hand To Decide

Dark And Tragic, When Fate Sets Its Black Hand To Decide


Icy cold had invaded, her heart became a hard frozen tomb
Never again would she allow love to penetrate its new armored shells
That night she had seen one of death's many tragic and ugly faces
Its ancient mask, the one that crushes love's fever and kindness in a mere blink
Now she flows through a vacated life, on wings of sorrow's eternal flight
Awaiting a doom that her crushed soul welcomes in its dark and sunken state.

His death had been tragic, yet made for some of the most interesting news
All the clever twists and turns of an old Hollywood mystery movie script
So ghastly, his head found in the graveyard, atop her lover's white tombstone
His bullet riddled body found miles away in a cheap and tawdry motel room
Perhaps now he knows, how it feels to find Fate's eternal and deadly hand
In his well deserved doom, devil that had sent her into her dark and sunken state.

Robert JLindley, 6-30-2018
Prose, ( Tragedy In One Of Life's Screams)
Not For SilentOne's contest

Note : I rarely ever do ProseStarted with the plan to write for SilentOne's new contest but my muse took me ever onward and this became too long to enter.Giving thanks for the inspiration but it does not meet the eight verse contest requirement.
So I post it now as it is and wonder why my muse so stubbornly refused to stop writing..She vexes me to no end sometimes.....


Poem Details | by Faye Gibson |
Categories: absence, bereavement, death, farewell, heaven, lost love, tribute,

The Last Gold Leaf

The last gold leaf hangs on the bough;
summer is just a memory now.
You, too, have gone, my golden friend;
our summer days came to an end.

We said goodbye; our chapter closed.
How I will miss you no one knows.
On eagle wings you split the skies;
your spirit soaredYou had to fly.

My earthbound soul will bear its grief
severed from you on mortal reef;
but returning from yonder shore,
your love in waves will wash me o'er.

You've gone before, my trusted love;
I wait behind, your mourning dove;
yet, from across the great divide
your voice to me in dreams confides.

No, I think not that dreams they are;
but communion of the near with far.
On such sweet songs I stake my claim
to know and love you once again.

Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson


Poem Details | by Susan Ashley |
Categories: bereavement, death, innocence, loss, lost love,

The Corruption Of My Lust For Life


Hibiscus rays of light brings the sunrise out of darkness with a bloom of ravishing red passion ~ Oh! How I despise her blushing optimism and lust for life! For I am too young to cry but too old not to a handful of heartbeats ago baby’s breath breezes tenderly brushed us with flawless fingers of feathery zephyrs caressing the circle of light surrounding the cocoon of our pulsing rapture ~ champagne flowed voluptuously through our veins with golden ambrosial arousal and with every nectarous nip of our titillating treasure we lived as though we would love forever till the broken dawn-to-dark when angels cradled your harmonious harp against their hearts - their teardrops of ecstasy strumming your silvern strings in a glorious glissando that lifted your lustrous essence across the bridge to bliss somewhere beyond me and behind the snowy veils of virtue I am anemic if not nothing now adulterated by loss of innocence dwindling in a dreamless state unoccupied but for the lurid loss that fills me ~ and my black skies storm with shrieking tears! Susan Ashley February 9, 2018 ------------------------------ ~ Eighth Place ~ Contest: Your Favorite Poem Written in February Sponsor: Laura Loo ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ Ninth Place ~ Contest: Loss of an Innocent Mind Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann


Poem Details | by Susan Ashley |
Categories: angel, april, bereavement, heaven, love, mother daughter, snow,

Your Sacred Soul Still Calms And Comforts Me



Ave-Maria hymns lift you in flight to Heaven’s gate apt angel does ascend and follows lantern's light predawn of night on star-dust wings for spirit a Godsend. On April morn in skies of blue as you besprinkle crystals from your seraph’s wings, by mourning noon soft snowfall does ensue a smoothing swaddle soothing harmed heartstrings. In diamond-dusted frosted filigree so sparkles soulful kisses you bestow for scintillant reflective reverie your glistened gift you send in silvern snow. Beloved mother, sainted entity you hush my cries with snow’s serenity. Susan Ashley December 8, 2017


Poem Details | by Donna Loughman |
Categories: abortion, bereavement, courage, emotions, sad love,

The Withdrawing Room

Unrhymed tercets

The Withdrawing Room

Huddled together in this abstemious grey chamber
no windows or means of escape walls closing in
trapped where the un-sanctified transactions are made 


Daunting without exit the silent screams go unheard 
ashen skin with darting eyes never looking up
forever too frightened of seeing the truth reflected back 

In the unholy grail in visions of comrades within this un-sacred act of ransom 
the collective voice of the masked chorus urging them on wards 
then the integrated tragedy of hidden fears and secrets

A living sacrifice under this bargain where no one wins or gains
without boundaries of mortal limits there exists in this gunmetal airless demise 
unfettered woefulness and vainglory vie for victory 

The innocent victim's now the pawn's forgotten as pride twists obscurities 
severing the umbilical cord drowning breaths of existence
the sterile smell of unfinished lives permeating into the coal and ice


Tiny little footprints always remain's inside the womb's silenced facts 
the living water of life breaks no longer flows through the natural cord
leaving a chorus of continuous phantom's chanting in mendacious unity  

Opening the door of perdition where the tactical glare of a butchers knife 
held under a ghostly specter of a child that might have been treasured 
a face imagined but never seen and names never uttered 

A tortured remembrance of a pardon held precious beauty once
soon the vapour of shame burns off in an emptiness that still remains
glazes over a ruby rare passion 

Where fear & the constant loathing cannot fathom the uncertainties 
this future brings forth in the immenseness of what might have been 
not touching the soul properly 

The unborn yet to speak?
silenced unadorned gone forever jewel's 
always held within prayers of the faithful loving grace


a co written piece by Liam Mcdaid & Donna Loughman


Poem Details | by Wren Rushing |
Categories: bereavement, death, son,

I Send You My Love

Losing my son was so hard to endure,
a fine young man with a heart that was pure.
Our family and friends came to our side,
they held us close and together we cried.

After the funeral the very next day,
I came to his grave to kneel and to pray.
I asked the Lord to help me to see,
the purpose of death and why it must be.

The smell of flowers from a day old grave,
sadly this memory I have chosen to save.
My dear sweet son I will hold in my heart,
for a small plot of earth will keep us apart.

As the years pass, visits become few,
for what is a stone to me and to you.
I know I will see you in Heaven above,
so I pray to the Lord and send you my love.




12/20/18


Poem Details | by Kristopher Higgs |
Categories: absence, abuse, addiction, adventure, africa, age, allah, allegory, america, analogy, angel, anger, angst, animal, anniversary, april, art, august, autumn, baby, baptism, baseball, basketball, beach, beautiful, beauty, bereavement, best friend, betrayal, bible, bird, birth, birthday, black african american, blue, day, dedication, devotion, faith, happiness, lost love, love, me, passion, words,

While You Sleep

While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly 
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.

Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel, 
And so before it I choose to kneel.

I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.

I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.

I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.

My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.


Poem Details | by Debbie Duncan |
Categories: bereavement, death, love,

Belladonna

As I draw my last breath
I kiss her lips and wait.

I watch the carnival of lost souls.
Watch them all in their caravan.

On my weak body, I lay her hand.
How we laughed and played thru 
the meadows of our heaven.

Though I have faith in the night.
My tear filled skin is soaked to the bone.

Love should not be if it feels like this.
I should let the devil dance upon my grave.

"If it is true I never see you in the light of day again.
I shall be lost to the darkness forever more.

Belladonna, my love,  do not leave me now.
I cannot bare to lose you this day.

There would be no life in this body.
If I did not have your love and kindness
bestowed upon me 





9/ 6/ 2013  Fri     listening to gothic music 

Belladonna is Latin for “beautiful lady”.


Poem Details | by Robert Candler |
Categories: age, angel, animal, bereavement, best friend, blessing, care, caregiving, character, death, dedication, devotion, dog, emotions, farewell, feelings, friend, friendship, grave, heaven, husband, life, loneliness, lonely, longing, loss, lost love, miracle, moving on, mystery, old, pets, prayer, religious, sorrow, soulmate, spiritual, sweet, together, tribute, wife,

Pal

Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”

Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”

One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But there, to his surprise…

Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
Then, after he sniffed the last one planted, 
He turned and licked Bob’s face.

Bob smiled“I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”

Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.

Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.

Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he‘d come on the double.

Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray, 
“Lord, let this day be my last.”

For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one evening,
Pal quietly passed away.

Bob held Pal in his arms and wept.
“Oh, Pal…my best friend…you saved my life.” 
He caressed Pal as he reminisced;
Then, sometime in the night, Bob joined his wife.

The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought fresh flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….

Stood an old dog beside the stone, 
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then, turned and licked her face.

She smiled through her tears 
“I had a dog when I was young...
A good one too His name was Pal.”


Poem Details | by Ruth Sabath Rosenthal |
Categories: bereavement, food, forgiveness, grief, love, sister, word play,

Sister -- a poem in 2 parts

            I.

End-Cut Prime Rib of Beef,  
Crab-cake, Lobster Tail,
Sea Scallops.

I feel — no — need to, 
eat those foods 
you asked I get you

So I scour the internet 
for upscale Manhattan 
restaurant menus, listing, 
first and foremost,
roast prime rib of beef, 

confident, if I find that, 
the seafood items 
will appear on at least one 
of them, also

It’s the Post House,
on East 63rd Street,
that has everything.
And, on this day, 
the 1st anniversary
of your death, 

I’m eating the foods 
you craved, yet, I do not 
savor a morselBut 
not to worry, Renee, 

for next year, same
date, I’ll try again, and 
maybe, just maybe, 
I’ll find it easier to enjoy 
what you surely would have, 

if only I’d realized there was 
no time leftNo time left, 
as I held your hand and 
watched American Idol.

while you morphed into what-
ever it is one becomes 
at death


              II.

I muse if Robert Frost
had taken the other road, 
would he have moved to
England, where 
his poetry was a hit
from the get-go; 

would he have remained, 
the constant farmer, or 
teacher, or journalist
he been, rather than 

the bard who'd crafted 
the simplest words 
into mysterious, 
memorable poems; 

and the father who
couldn’t prevent 
his children’s deaths; 

not the husband 
who couldn’t keep
his wife from sinking 
deep into depression.

Renee, every day, since
your death, I think about 
what I could’ve done 
and should not have done 
as your sister, your twin

How I’d sat on my laurels 
and let you navigate 
on your own, with me 
never wholeheartedly
trying to steer away
from conflict with you

Me, who found it too hard
staying involved in that life 
of yoursTruth be told, 
if I'd seen two diverging roads 
to choose from, way back when 

— neither the worse for wear, 
I would’ve sought you out — 
asked you which one you’d take 
if you were me, and surely 
I’d have taken the other.










Poem Details | by Daniel Turner |
Categories: bereavement, sad love,

Our Time Together

I loved our time together late at night
Love's sanctuary in each others arms
Unwinding and unraveling what's tight
Those years I spent succumbing to your charms

Initially, those hills we climbed were rough
Our boundaries were drawn with compromise
That look you gave me when you'd had enough
Approval of my worth in ardent sighs

But now to mem'ries I've become a slave
Each day I live, I pray to be my last
To sleep beside you even in my grave
Reclaiming love that saved me in the past

The love you gave still warms my broken heart
It's lonely picking up the scattered parts.


    an original poem by Daniel Turner




Poem Details | by Mark Woods |
Categories: bereavement, heartbreak, loneliness, lost love,

My Neighbour

She’s lonely, the old lady just over the fence
Ninth decade approaching, alone and living past tense

Sometimes I see her and acknowledge good day
Put time to one side, not running away.

A love story she tells me, I’ve heard it before
The man that she married and simply adored.

His battle with cancer, he’s now spread on my land
How her family all left her, once they had cash in their hand.

I see the wrinkles of hurt carved into her face
Only I know the reason, why she’s attached to this place.


31/8/2015
*The spelling of neighbour/neighbor is different between countries.


Poem Details | by Timothy Hicks |
Categories: anxiety, bereavement, forgiveness, funny love, humorous, love, romance,

Here's an Idea

They just don't know how to apologize, do they?
Giving something that's prone to finger bleeds
and even chunkier thighs.
I'll give you the Golden Rule:
with situations like this
it is sure to apply.
An idea I propose (if I may be so bold):
give me a week without seeing your face
and a day without hearing your voice.
Heartbroken women everywhere agree
that it truly is the safest choice!
I don't need a second bouquet
or another box of sweets so chocolatey.
Seeing you suffer for what you did
is without a doubt the greatest therapy!



But of course      Don't despair
Eventually you'll be forgiven
Give it space      Give it time
When you return it will be sublime
a peck on the cheek
"Honey, can you fix the bathroom sink,
it hasn't been greased

..in at least a week."




NOTE: For all you women out there that have to put up with us silly men.


Poem Details | by Kishan sharma |
Categories: beautiful, bereavement, best friend, betrayal, bird, birth, birthday, blue, class, computer, corruption, creation, dad, day, deep, girl, love, love hurts, missing, missing you, moon,

Love for someone,

Sorrow is my companion now,
Why do you tears your drowsy?
The happiness you have received,
The realization of the world of sorrow.

Life has listened to me,
Why do you co-exit?
Love you all,
We all hate hatred.

Sorrow is my companion now,
Why do you tears your drowsy?


Everyone broken my heart,
Why do you do me love?
Why do you want us everything?
We have given everything to us only punishment.

Sorrow is my companion now,
Why do you tears your drowsy?
The happiness you have received,
The realization of the world of sorrow.


Poem Details | by Susan Ashley |
Categories: bereavement, death, grave, grief, love, wife,

Shades of Gray Grief


Man of melancholy - memories ashen and shadow gray, heart harrowed, solicits solace from her psychic energy. An offering, his woebegone weeping wildflower bouquet, teardrops titian, sorrow scintillant, reflects rueful reverie. Heart harrowed solicits solace from her psychic energy, free falling through forlorn filigree, he mourns at her gravestone. Teardrops, titian sorrow scintillant reflects rueful reverie of his Earth angel, soul-lifted too soon, spiritually sown. Free falling, through forlorn filigree he mournsAt her gravestone fragrance haunting, flowers flaring heartsick hallucinations of his Earth angel soul-lifted too soon; spiritually sown blue scented efflorescence of suffering lamentations! Fragrance..haunting flowers flaring heartsick hallucinations of inamorata, flame extinguished expectant with their child. Blue scented efflorescence of suffering lamentations bedevil his mindHappiness, hope exiled, ego beguiled. Of inamorata flame extinguished expectant with their child, an offering; his woebegone weepingWildflower bouquet bedevils his mind, happiness, hope Exiled ego beguiled, man of melancholy memories - ashen and shadow gray. Susan Ashley September 16, 2017 ------------------------------ ~Third Place ~ Contest: Favorite Pantoum Premiere Sponsor: Laura Loo ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ First Place ~ Contest: Poems That Paint A Picture 2 Sponsor: Silent One * based on a pencil drawing by Mike Theuer provided by Silent One on contest page *


Poem Details | by Elizabeth Kinch |
Categories: angel, baby, bereavement, heaven, loss, love, mother daughter,

Olivia

O-n this Easter day God took you up to heaven.
L-ong days and nights followed, especially for your mummy who misses you with an
I-tensity that only a mother canA
V-acant hole in her heart, forever longing for you.
I-nvisible threads of love will always bind you together, you are mummy's
A-ngel, who is always with her.


Remembering my niece Olivia who left this world twenty two years ago, aged three months.


Poem Details | by Nichola Vincent |
Categories: bereavement, child, depression, family, fear, lost love, war,

Evacuation and Loss

The night shone for the full moon,
Sky brewing a coarse monsoon,
Bolted were windows, locked were doors,
The frequency of death frighteningly soared.
But who was this infant high upon the hill?
He denied the storm and just stood stone still,
Eyes shut like blinds and fingers dug into ground,
Felt he could move no muscle, for was sadly street bound.
Shutting his eyes, arms wrapped tight round
His skinny body, battered and browned
Praying for the sake of friends, family and all
However imaginary, he imagined them call
 “Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry, remember our love”
Joining their gaze in the beyond above,
He softly mumbled a song to forget,
The once daily song that was always a duet,
Alone on that hill without any feel,
Of an afterlife he finally accepted, wasn’t real
Tears met the floor, now bathed in yellow light,
As lightning struck him too quick to fright,
Child lay on the floor, dismembered and black,
Though his mouth was smiling and his happiness had come back,
As re-joined with family, head held high, 
He waved his tortured existence goodbye.
Hugging his mum and his dad the same,
Somehow put an end to the incessant rain,
The natives emerged from their homes, safe and sound,
The boy crying for happiness at the new life he had found.
Soul peering at his body, dead at age eleven,
Holding family’s hands they could finally pass on and join heaven
The touch of their skin brought old emotion,
 Parents who were torn betwixt war and devotion,
A child whom they gave their best shot,
By train to board and bomb to not.
The grave of the boy with the electric crown,
Who carried a burden he couldn’t live down,
Stood proud in the yard of cobbles and stones,
For everyone knew those were a heroes bones,
When you look into the sky on a stormy night,
Remind yourself of the boy’s plight.
As he is the clouds that damper weather,
Out to protect his town, children altogether,
He wanted a life for them around,
That didn’t consist of being mentally wound,
A life that he could never possess,
But he did not bathe in spiralling depress.
Life is sacred, upon that hill,
Those cobbles and stones bring great goodwill,
For the sun only shines on that grassy land,
Still holding marks of the boy’s humble hand,
Some say that the yearly rain,
Is him up above, the tears of a chain.
The chain of the tears shed on that night,
Of the fear and happiness’ conventional recite,
Up above, being tucked under the covers,
Is a little boy with an injury he recovers,
Mother kisses his head and says her goodnight,
Father over bed, comforting a nightmare fright.
Drifting off, the boy could hear,
A little rhyme to calm his fear,
“Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry remember our love-“
The young man rose slowly in his bed,
Opened his eyes and smiled as he said
“I’m here”


Poem Details | by Eve Roper |
Categories: bereavement, i miss you, love,

senryu- Ashes trail out with the sky

draped close for the night
film scenes of you have no end -
mourning sobbing starts


3/18/2019

Poetry Contest: Writing Challenge 3- March 2019 - Senryu 
Sponsored by: Dear Heart 

3/20/2019 Poem of the day


Poem Details | by Emile Pinet |
Categories: bereavement, death, emotions, faith, feelings, inspirational, love,

Let It Be

Let it be let it be
time to face the unknown.
God’s angels comfort me
I'm loved and not alone.

Let it be let it be
the winds of fate have blown.
Can’t you see that I’m free
death’s but a stepping stone.

Let it be let it be
don't be sad shed no tears.
Seek me in memories
we’ve shared over the years.

Let it be let it be
I will always be near.
This is my destiny
rejoice and have no fear.

Let it be let it be
I’m but a dream away.
I’ll visit you at night
and pray for you each day.


Poem Details | by R. L. McCallum |
Categories: bereavement, death, grave, ireland, loneliness, lost love, missing you, sad,

A Winter's Rime

(In a churchyard in Northern Ireland)


Through the broken and barren trees
Winter exhales its coldest breeze
From the wintry breath of northern seas
That can chill the warmest soul.

Thus in the churchyard by the sea
Nigh one broken and barren tree
Lies cold a soul once warm to me
Beneath the winter’s rime.

As the heart of winter doth unfold
I feel its touch, so dark and cold,
For I yearn at night to yet behold
That soul once warm to me.

But in earthen depths doth she lie
E’er below the moon and starlit sky
As yet unto her grave I wander by
And despair the winter’s rime.

O’ the winter wails upon the still
With its bleak and bitter chill
That conjures from the nightly nil
A soul once warm to me!


Poem Details | by Jeannie Minor |
Categories: bereavement, blessing, family, father, loss, love, spiritual,

A Father's Love

A Father's Love 


When the ones 
we've loved are lost,
It's from the heart
we bear the cost.
Memories pull 
an emotional trigger
and the emptiness seems
to grow silently bigger.

The void that's created
seems void of a cure,
that's how we know
the love was so pure.
Something so perfect 
must come from above,
heaven sent,
through our Father's love.

The warmth of his hugs,
the laughter and tears,
the times when we tested
and wrestled his fears.
All of these things 
are kept deep in our hearts,
memories cherished 
from never we'll part.

The grief does relent
and will slowly give way,
to smiles and gladness 
and less painful days.
We come to the place,
as most people do,
when you realize life 
isn't all about you.

The things that he taught us
and showed us with love,
truly were gifts 
from the good Lord above.
This God given task
was another's to do,
someone taught him,
so he could teach you.

Through time we will honor
the gifts that he gave,
after the mourning
with memories we save.
Becoming the teachers
and passing the torch,
with stories to children
in swings on a porch.

A lifetime is short
no matter the years,
we all learn to wade
through our rivers of tears.
The days of a lifetime
are moments away,
from the memories of loved ones
with grievance to pay.

The strength of our love
digs the depth of our pain,
just as a rainbow
depends on the rain.
May we all
be so blessed
by our Father above,
with fathers to show us
how deeply to love.

                    -Jeannie Minor


Poem Details | by anne p. murray |
Categories: bereavement, children, dance, dream, hope, image, imagination, life, lonely, love,

TEN CENTS A DANCE

She worked at a boozy ballroom, dancing for 10 cents a dance 
Barely enough to eat and pay her rent in a rundown seedy hotel 
So young, so alone raised by no one but herself 
Oh, she had parents, but they didn’t see her, didn’t know or love her 
She married the first guy who came along just to get away from home 
But he abused her - used her, then left her all alone 

Twenty two years old- 
Alone, with two small children to care for 
She needed someone… 
Someone who would hold her - touch her tenderly with his heart 
Someone to love her- love her children 
Her brown eyes wishing, hoping - looking for love in stranger’s faces 
Dancing for 10 cents a dance under shimmering ballroom lights 
Swaying to and fro through dreamed filled hopes 
With her closed eyes, she pretended as she danced 
Fantasizing that he might be the one to save her- love her 

When the music started she was in another world 
Wishing he’d sweep her off her feet, take her away 
So she could live like a lady and die like a flowering rose when her last petals fell
In the arms of one she imagines will be hers once and for all
To whisper velvet words of comfort as their feet grazed the floor 
Under the melodic grace of the violins she pretended… 
Hoping to find her hero, someone who’ll give her a chance 
Just...for 10 cents a dance


Poem Details | by John Hamilton |
Categories: bereavement, death, grief, husband, lost love, remember, wife,

You were always there for me

You were always there for me.

The leaves fall outside slowly
where we used to walk
There's beauty all around me
but I just don't want to talk

My friends want to come over,
but I just don't have the time
They leave messages for me to read
and tho I see them, I am blind

Oh, late at night, I feel so empty
so lost and all alone
I'm used to having you beside me
and my heart, it had a home

What can I do now, to take
all this pain away?
You were always there to comfort me
in your own special way

Chorus

Oh, you left me too soon,
you left me way too soon
I still can't sleep in our room
Cos, you were always there for me
you were always there for me
Now what am I supposed to do?
I'm drowning here without you
You always helped me with my pain
You made me see the sun again
You were always there for me


I remember everything about you
everything you ever said
I remember all those stormy nights
we shared together in our bed
I used to watch you sleeping
and I'd gently touch your face
Now your place beside me is empty
no one left here to embrace

Chorus 
Oh you left me too soon...


So many years have passed now
since you have passed away
It still feels like not so long ago
so many things left to say
I dream about the day, when
you'll be back home to stay
I'll be here waiting patiently,
cos you were always here for me

Chorus repeat
fade


John Derek Hamilton
August 30,2016











Poem Details | by Mockingbird Stevenson |
Categories: bereavement, betrayal, confusion, devotion, divorce, emotions, heartbreak, hurt, love, love hurts,

Unrelenting

How does my body
This flesh that withholds my soul,,
manage to bear the weight from the chains that have been embedded upon my bequeathing heart?

Where does one hide the pain that is encrusted upon these eyes that are dreary and now fail to sleep?

Why cant my mind acquit, my heart adrift, my skin ache for the touch of another?

Does it have to be me that has to live with this night, because happiness is the other side of this mirror?

h


Poem Details | by Berteena Harmony Of The Soul |
Categories: bereavement, cancer, grief, loss, lost love, native american, tribute,

Windwalker

I
knew a Tiger
who swam with dolphins
along the razor’s edge

and
meditated with a yellow bird
under his honey’s tree
in a west coast garden.

A
rare breed
from an indigenous
creed.

His
poetic wisdom
written with
zen.

He
sung his songs
in syllables:
5-7-5 and 5-7-5-7-7.

His
beloved’s last kiss
left him fragrant roses
when she crossed over.

Where
did our
Windwalker
go?

Lava
beads, sky lanterns,
and a beautiful
rainbow.

Is
he crying with Coyotes
to the moon or on
heaven’s Windswept Shore?

I
knew a Tiger
who walked
with the wind.



by Berteena
Harmony of the Soul
PoetrySoup Poem of the Day - January 29, 2019


Poem Details | by Rhoda Tripp |
Categories: bereavement, christmas, holiday, loss, love, memory, thanksgiving,

The Attic

They're treasures to me, so I don't mind.
My Aunt Ellie in tow, right behind.
I climb the ladder, lift wooden door.
There are piles of stuff strewn the floor.

She recites the story about Aunt Jean.
How she cursed her antique sewing machine.
Under material, maybe old drapes?
My cousin's old stereo, played 8 track tapes.

There's a carpet remnant, rolls of paper.
Aunt Ellie says the 70s, I think much later.
A box of dishes, perhaps wedding gift?
Not used Thanksgiving, too heavy to lift.

A pile of records, Walt Whitman Victrola
A photo of a young man on Venice gondola.
It was where my uncle asked Ellie to marry.
Damn, I sure miss my late Uncle Harry.

I relish the memories in this dusty loft.
Didn't realize Uncle Harry liked to golf.
Aunt Ellie glances around, teardrops flow.
All she wanted were her Christmas bows.


11/26/2017
Written for Eve Roper
Photostory Contest
Took a 2nd place win