"abernathy" poems - Hello Poetry

I am seer of thine in Abernathy but squarely this divineness fore my essence will describe with maturation on my side whether or not this dither fantasize will deduce gold hexagons that mix a feather awhile and let dolce vita thrive a supremely superb undulance in ubiquity here.

0

Nov 27, 2016

Nov 27, 2016 at 10:54 AM UTC

poetman

A Thaw

I am seer of thine in Abernathy but squarely this divineness fore my essence will describe with maturation on my side whether or not this dither fantasize will deduce gold hexagons that mix a feather awhile and let dolce vita thrive a supremely superb undulance in ubiquity here.

7

*Oh, Abernathy How long has it been Since we left school And went our separate ways? Oh, Abernathy I still think of you And I wonder how you are To this day All the things we used to make All the rules we tried to break And they say that kids will still be kids But, oh, Abernathy The teachers are doing fine They were smiling When I visited them one day And, oh, Abernathy I hope you're doing well Wherever you are Whatever may come your way Oh, the memories I hold dear They have all but disappeared It's both a blessing and a curse Oh, Abernathy My Lawrence, Abernathy I wonder what you're doing To this day There's no need to be upset Please don't sweat this stuff or fret I only want to let you know Abernathy, you're still on my mind I remember your golden hair and your pearly eyes Our friendship will never fade away, I swear Oh, Abernathy Dear Lawrence, Abernathy I just pray to God That you are still okay Oh, Abernathy I always think of you And I wonder how you are To this day*

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Feb 15, 2017

Feb 15, 2017 at 8:42 PM UTC

mysteryezekude

Oh, Abernathy

*Oh, Abernathy How long has it been Since we left school And went our separate ways? Oh, Abernathy I still think of you And I wonder how you are To this day All the things we used to make All the rules we tried to break And they say that kids will still be kids But, oh, Abernathy The teachers are doing fine They were smiling When I visited them one day And, oh, Abernathy I hope you're doing well Wherever you are Whatever may come your way Oh, the memories I hold dear They have all but disappeared It's both a blessing and a curse Oh, Abernathy My Lawrence, Abernathy I wonder what you're doing To this day There's no need to be upset Please don't sweat this stuff or fret I only want to let you know Abernathy, you're still on my mind I remember your golden hair and your pearly eyes Our friendship will never fade away, I swear Oh, Abernathy Dear Lawrence, Abernathy I just pray to God That you are still okay Oh, Abernathy I always think of you And I wonder how you are To this day*

40

Do you remember the year 1861? I was just ending my practicum of nursing, and you were being drafted to war. Oh, the day we met on that rain-washed Thursday while you were dodging the doctor from a scratched cornea, I admired you from across the medical tent. Noticing me quickly, you half smiled. War was quickly setting into place, while you and I plunged head first into love. We woke up to a conked labor union and our whole base blowing to hell. My ears, my ears were engulfed with vibrations of cannon sounds. Then and there, a bullet committed one's self to the center of my chest. But you found me, slipping into utter darkness. You culled me back towards consciousness. Flower, Flower, you said. And here I stand beside your plot in the necropolis, knowing my name could have been here just as easily as yours. eternally yours, Your Flower.

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Dec 29, 2014

Dec 29, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC

allie-king

Dear Pvt. Abernathy

Do you remember the year 1861? I was just ending my practicum of nursing, and you were being drafted to war. Oh, the day we met on that rain-washed Thursday while you were dodging the doctor from a scratched cornea, I admired you from across the medical tent. Noticing me quickly, you half smiled. War was quickly setting into place, while you and I plunged head first into love. We woke up to a conked labor union and our whole base blowing to hell. My ears, my ears were engulfed with vibrations of cannon sounds. Then and there, a bullet committed one's self to the center of my chest. But you found me, slipping into utter darkness. You culled me back towards consciousness. Flower, Flower, you said. And here I stand beside your plot in the necropolis, knowing my name could have been here just as easily as yours. eternally yours, Your Flower.

9

Her fennel failed, so it was off to market- where local lemon squares cartwheel with kettle corn as free samples dissipate... and the business- of honing in on a needful thing becomes the sepia tone on a wharf of gathering. with the fog that threatened the forecast, abated. the air was gray-yellow with a new sun cracking mist as veterans meander like elk in hoodies between the fresh catch of the day and the venison heart on ice. under glass.

0

Jan 26, 2021

Jan 26, 2021 at 2:59 PM UTC

third-eye-candy

Agatha Abernathy Goes To Market

Her fennel failed, so it was off to market- where local lemon squares cartwheel with kettle corn as free samples dissipate... and the business- of honing in on a needful thing becomes the sepia tone on a wharf of gathering. with the fog that threatened the forecast, abated. the air was gray-yellow with a new sun cracking mist as veterans meander like elk in hoodies between the fresh catch of the day and the venison heart on ice. under glass.

22

Agatha Abernathy slapped clay on a wheel and spun with her bare hands all manner of things to hold in your mind. She slept through thunderstorms as if a storm front were a blanket. There was no such thing as too many cats; and marmalade was a condiment. Agatha had nothing to say.... And nothing to keep to Herself.

0

Apr 19, 2018

Apr 19, 2018 at 10:40 PM UTC

third-eye-candy

Agatha Abernathy

Agatha Abernathy slapped clay on a wheel and spun with her bare hands all manner of things to hold in your mind. She slept through thunderstorms as if a storm front were a blanket. There was no such thing as too many cats; and marmalade was a condiment. Agatha had nothing to say.... And nothing to keep to Herself.

2