Tag: funeral

Grandma, Poetry by Emily Sneed

 
Genre: Family, Funeral, Death
 
One more year, one more day,
I wish I had one more chance to tell her the things I couldn’t say.
All the memories, all the laughs,
Now your life is remembered with photographs.
Only the good die young but he took you too soon,
I want one more night of us talking under the moon.
I know you’re in a better place,
I just wish it wasn’t this way.
 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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Sedona Noon, Poetry by Cliff Smith

 Genres: Death, Funeral, Hope, Inspirational, Life, Love, Motivational, Philosophical, Redemption, Relationships, Religion, Song.

 Life is so fine here on the line till you cross over.
Lose your mind cause you can’t find your four-leaf clover.

You’ll discover another lover and feel it inside.
Find your mother, love your brother, don’t run and hide.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro Sunset.
Sing a tune, make love in June, and have no regret.

Feel your worth, measure its girth, trust your value.
From your birth here on this Earth, your spirit shines through.

Living right with all your might, you try to be true.
Turn off the night and seek the light until it blinds you.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro Sunset.
Sing a tune, make love in June and have no regret.

The flowers bloom, there’s lots of room to reach the sky.
From the womb straight to the tomb, the clouds they pass by.

The mountains rise before our eyes
It’s what we seek to reach the peak.
When all is said, what’s done is done, the words we speak…

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro Sunset
Sing a tune, don’t leave too soon, and have no regret.

When it’s the end, feel it spin, it’s all behind you.
Take a leap, it’s yours to keep, now follow me through…

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro sunsets.
Sing a tune, make love in June and have no regrets.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro sunset.
Sing a tune, make love in June, don’t leave too soon and have no regret.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro sunsets.
I sang a tune, made love in June, I left too soon, but have no regrets.

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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Grandfathers Love, Poetry by Sherille Williams

Who do u you call when your heart is broken. Where does love begin to form. Is it through a simple touch? My grandpa said “it’s in the hands my grandchild that holds us together.”

Genre:Funeral, Family

Grandfathers Love

 

Who do u you call when your heart is broken. Where does love begin to form. Is it through a simple touch? My grandpa said “it’s in the hands my grandchild that holds us together.”

 

We must not cherish the most costly items and we must not bury the future. True love lasted through my grandpa’s hands. He knew what it took to love his best friend; his lady and put God first when there are failed moments. He knew that keeping his wife with God as his robe kept them alive; but today is the day we mourn having lost him, and rejoice at the fact he was reunited with his long lost love.

 

My heart ached when he asked me “should he too go” when my grandmother left. Are materials and unforgivable arguments worth losing your right hand? My grandpa held her right hand whenever they traversed the Coney Island boardwalk. Bought her a hot dog to share and spare his last twenty five cents to keep her happy.

 

He always confided in The Good Book most deny. However he always reminds me a man isn’t a man until he’s met with God. Forgiving is rejecting all feelings of your own not because the persons right, but because he too has forgiving you. During this time, I’m starting to find my grandfather held all the keys to my grandma’s heart. Love God first, your spouse second and everything else will fall in its place.

 

What I’m trying to say is our generation no longer knows what love is. It’s not the status on social media, nor is it lusting after someone new – it’s through our hands. These life lines carry our tears and secrets but when held with someone, really anyone that you love, we can all agree we’ve experienced my grandpa’s kind of love he spoke of.

 

Rest in peace Grandpa I love you

 

 

Sherille Williams

 

 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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