I
was on a roll and then it stopped. Since I missed a few days of posting
poetry, I will include three poems on this post.
This first poem is something I
found amongst my mother’s things when she passed away. It is marked unknown,
but I found the author through Google. I’m posting this poem in memory of my
mother and my cousin, Ann Renee Maluska, who died at the age of nineteen. Ann
was born on Easter Sunday, and she would have turned forty-six years old today.
Happy Birthday, Ann.
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep by Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush or quiet
Birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at
night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Free Verse
poetry is poetry that doesn’t follow meter or rhyme. Excuse the rush writing of
this poem.
Treasures
Treasures
I thought
I lost
I now have
found
In the
written word
and a
picture to last
generations
to come
Sometimes
we
forget
distant memories
that made
us who we are
Because of
all the treasures
I have
found
It’s the
one I carry around.
The
treasure of
being a
part of you,
letting
that part shine right through.
I
thought I would try another invented poetry form. This is a Memento, created by
Emily Romano. It’s supposed to be about a holiday or anniversary, but I didn’t
write about either one. The syllable count is 8,6,2 for each stanza, and the
rhyme scheme is a/b/c/a/b/c.
Unabashed Lovers
Ignore the judgmental whispers
That pour faster than rain
No worth;
Words that form on tongues like
blisters
Creating endless pain
Unbirth.
To listen is to give power
Losing a bit of you
Hush now;
Stomp out the negative flower
To continue your woo
Avow.
Piecemeal
and Three,
Bea
