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Letter Poems to Our Deceased

Bag om Letter Poems to Our Deceased

Crossing au naturale We lose our parentsThen we loose each other, And I pray my childrenGo not before meAnd wait>Our grandparentsHave departedSo many years beforeAnd it has becomeIncreasingly difficultTo recall the VisionsOf their presence ...>Aunts, Uncles, Cousins and FriendsLike leaves in the autumnDrop to their resting placeOne by one....Sometimes aidedBy a strong wind, A pouring rainOr perhaps fatigue ...Or perhaps, >When I look backOver my shoulderAt what lies behind me, I am awareOf the Words...The words I spoke, And those I did not, Or could not, For I was busy and preoccupied.Doing things, >So now I find myselfRelegated to writing poems, Some contemplative, Some reflective, Some infused with my sorrows, Some my pains, Some my joys, Sone my hopes, And a myriad upon myriadOf dispositionsI wish to revisit, And those I never had a chance, Or never took the time>But considering how i was reared up, The thing more importantThat the cast aside dreams, The achievements and failuresIs the hope, The hope thatI will see you all once againFor that eternal embrac

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  • Sprog:
  • Engelsk
  • ISBN:
  • 9781961498143
  • Indbinding:
  • Paperback
  • Sideantal:
  • 160
  • Udgivet:
  • 28. december 2023
  • Størrelse:
  • 203x9x254 mm.
  • Vægt:
  • 331 g.
  • 2-3 uger.
  • 12. december 2024
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Beskrivelse af Letter Poems to Our Deceased

Crossing au naturale We lose our parentsThen we loose each other, And I pray my childrenGo not before meAnd wait>Our grandparentsHave departedSo many years beforeAnd it has becomeIncreasingly difficultTo recall the VisionsOf their presence ...>Aunts, Uncles, Cousins and FriendsLike leaves in the autumnDrop to their resting placeOne by one....Sometimes aidedBy a strong wind, A pouring rainOr perhaps fatigue ...Or perhaps, >When I look backOver my shoulderAt what lies behind me, I am awareOf the Words...The words I spoke, And those I did not, Or could not, For I was busy and preoccupied.Doing things, >So now I find myselfRelegated to writing poems, Some contemplative, Some reflective, Some infused with my sorrows, Some my pains, Some my joys, Sone my hopes, And a myriad upon myriadOf dispositionsI wish to revisit, And those I never had a chance, Or never took the time>But considering how i was reared up, The thing more importantThat the cast aside dreams, The achievements and failuresIs the hope, The hope thatI will see you all once againFor that eternal embrac

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