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ancient beauty : a
visage untouched by pain and
yet ravaged by time.
haiku.
golden days.
Your body is weak
Your mind is leaving
Your skin is thin

I know soon you must go
That it will all soon end

Lingering wisps of happier times
The sent of perfume and cleaning supplies
Pictures of faces from long ago

I just can't seem to let you go

Ghosts of those loved linger by the door
Waiting for you to follow them home
They know its time to go

I scream out no
I beg for you not to go
I pray for one more day
I weep for I can't make you stay

Life will move on
I know that true
But I will always miss you
Please Don't go
Freddie Ruiz Sep 5
She likes her coffee in the morning.
She likes her coffee in the evening.
You can sense that she’s protective
and you can’t help but to love her

She loves watching the sunset.
She loves getting in the rain
Her smile is the sweetest
and you can’t help but to love her.

Her love is innate.
Her beauty can’t go unnoticed.
Anywhere you see her
you can’t help but to love her.

She’s got many books beside her bed.
She’ll start reading, but fall asleep in a sec.
She brings a smile to your face
and you can’t help but to love her.

Her intentions are always the best,
far beyond what you could expect.
Her charm goes unexplained
and you can’t help but to love her.
Written on March 17, 1998
Composition number: 42
Mary Frances Aug 21
Like Sunflowers, your presence is bright and warm.
Like Sunflowers, your love is soothing and sweet.
Like Sunflowers, your embrace is home.
This is dedicated to my Grandmother who just celebrated her 68th birthday. She raised me as her own ever since my mom passed away when I was 8. I am ever thankful for her love and support for all of my life.
ogdiddynash Aug 5
Your grandmother wants to be friends on Facebook.  

hey you,
can’t recall where or how i know ya,

but your grannie is very kewl,
(we agree on the proper pronunciation)
boldly asked if that included “benefits,”
she heartily answered “damn right”

“one man is pretty much as good as the next,
but younger is definitely better, and you a spring chickadee,
at age of sixty years and three,
so many years ahead to share,
your social security bene-fits,
making me swoon
and giving me ‘flashes ‘n fits’
and given your life expectancies,
spousal wud be nice,
even ain’t a necessity,
looking forward to pleasuring your company”

remind me again,
where do I know you from?


shoot.  

HELLOOOOO POETRY!
Missing all the 2 AM chats
about All the Things,
the this and thats.
You were always awake too.
Ready to share,
ready to care.
Ready to tell a story or two.
You drank in kindness,
with every black cup.
To the world's darkness,
you had blindness,
always... looking up.
Grandma, how can it be,
that you WERE?
How can you be,
not here with me?
You miss us all,
I am sure.
We miss you too.
In all the little things we do,
all the times we show how to care.
All those times...
You are there.
Never again...
Cannot be real.
My heart cannot begin,
To accept that deal.
I will laugh and cry and love,
with you.
Either here,
or above.
Do not forsake me,
in my Pagan ways.
Light my path,
these earthly days.
For to live, and laugh, and toil, and love,
with your whole heart,
I have heard...
is what makes a good life.
A good wife.
A soul well lived and learned.
But just in case,
Can you put in a good word?
For I cannot bear
to exisit in a world,
With you never again there.
Jess Jul 18
The day I found out you where gone was the day i lost my innocence. the day i lost faith in my religion, the day i found out not all fairy tales have happy endings.


6 years ago I lost faith in everything,
         3 years ago I had come to terms with life without your presence.
        Knowing I still had another soul on earth connecting me to you.

in April the last safety blanket I had naively blinding my mind was pulled out from right under my feet.
        I could feel myself falling but not wanting anyone to see my my pain.
so
                           I hid it.

loosing grandad was the second hardest goodbye I've ever had to say,
       although he was never the same without your presence, when I spent time with him,    I could feel your presence in the room lighting up the missing part of my soul.

Now I'm back to the empty void scavenging for parts to
repair my      
         broken vessel.
Bright Violet Jul 14
Hiding is pointless
I have everything
yet I miss so much.
I want my grandmother.
Boy do I miss her
Sometimes, oh yes, sometimes
even more than my own mother.
I remember carefree times
What if you're not here physically?
I want your soul
I know it's here
I hope it is.
It's been a while since you left
Not nearly enough to heal my wounds.
I hope you're in a better place now
Perhaps we'll meet again.
Just the thought of you not being here
makes me shiver.
I love you so much
And you gave away your spirit
without a fight.
Why? What were you thinking of when you did that?
Certainly not me
or anybody else.
I hope the next life
will give you something better than this one.
Truth is you were wronged a bit
Maybe part of it was your fault.
But I don't blame you
I think it's time for me to let you go
but it's so so hard
I don't want to
but I have to.
Only my name is left as a reminder
And all that's left in my memory
I fear I will forget
What can I do?
Probably nothing
Goodnight, nana
Perhaps one day I will see you again
Thank you so much for all that you've given me
I love you

Your Granddaughter
Thinking back on a loved one's life has such a unique mixture of feelings. Sadness, pain, anger, joy. I tried to channel this weird sense of loss and guilt through one of the most important figures in our lives.
Larry Kotch Jun 26
Ash
I carved your name into trunks,
And sent you down the river in a hurry,
You were silent then, no anxious digs or hearty laughs,
We poured our hearts and you just disappeared.
Just behind the leaves and then I lost you
Though I know we had said our goodbyes,
I expected more time than smoke and rays.

And so I came back home with less family,
Though you, a child, were adopted by the kindest mother;
The paintings you had made of her,
I see them through your eyes,
I rub them as your colours fly,
When the woodland ended and meadows welcomed me back;
I saw your visions come to life.
This Poem is about nature welcoming back a loved one when you spread their ashes in a special place. In my case this was my Grandmother who was a very keen painter of the countryside. The Woodland where her ashes were spread represent the feminine and chaos from death. The carving and meadows are the link from this sad place back to the orderly world from where she painted and where I knew her.
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