The Last Leaf
That she was old beyond belief
was obvious for all to see.
Her face was like a wrinkled leaf
The last one clinging to the tree
in defiance of the gales.
Which autumns sends to strip the trees.
But now and then this method fails
and one leaf refuses to release
its hold and stubbornly remains
attached to where it’s always been.
Where once it drank the summer rains
when it was tender young and green.
How old she is she cannot say
nor does she care apparently.
But like the last leaf in her way
intends to cling on stubbornly.
She has outlived her family
all of her friends have long since gone
Accepting philosophically
She is the last surviving one
That when she dies her family tree
will disappear and leave no trace.
It will just simply cease to be
there is no one to take her place.
She is a source of wonderment
to scientists who study her.
She does not care she is content
to accept the support they offer her.
Shes not too old to change her ways
no longer has to search for food.
Which she done for all her days
and she still finds that life is good.
There is no record of her birth
her age is subject of debate.
Which is to her a source of mirth
a joke she can appreciate.
She does not care so why should they.
It does not matter in her eyes
She has survived until today
and will do ' til the day she dies.
The scientist all theorise
on how and why she’s lived so long.
They disagree as each one tries
to prove he’s right the others wrong.
She has her own opinion
but they show little interest.
And will not 'til the chance is gone.
When she has died and gone to rest.
She lived her life in her own way
It was the only way she knew.
Aware that she would die one day
as everybody has to do.
How old she was nobody knew
It does not matter I suppose.
That she was old we know is true
but why she was nobody knows.
11-Mar-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Rest Of My Life
Suddenly, it happened so fast
I couldn't believe the news that I received
My heart stopped as I hit the floor
I fell to my knees cryin' Lord help me
No matter what time brings
All the changes we go through
In life there's some things
We just can't prepare for
I don't care what they say
Don't care what they do
I don't care what they think
I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life
Don't they know
True love never dies
I promise to love you for the rest of my life
Life goes on that's what they say
Time will heal all your pain away
But I feel, feel so alone and
Now you're gone how can I live on
No matter what time brings
All the changes we go through
In life there's some things
We just can't prepare for
I don't care what they say
Don't care what they do
I don't care what they think
I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life
Don't they know
True love never dies
I promise to love you for the rest of my life
Until I see you again
I'll hold on to sweet memories
I'll treasure the times we spent
I see I'd do anything
I see your face, I see your smile
Callin' out my name
I don't care what they say
Don't care what they do
I don't care what they think
I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life
Don't they know true love never dies
I promise to love you for the rest of my life
I don't care what they say
Don't care what they do
I don't care what they think
I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life
I don't care what they say
I don't care what they do
What they think
'Cause I promise, I promise
To love you for the rest of my life
(for the rest of my life
song performed by by Xscape
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Far Memory.
I’m haunted by strange memories
of places I have never been
I can remember vividly
Street scenes I know I have not seen
It’s very strange and puzzles me.
I cannot see how possibly
I have access to memories
I know do not belong to me.
I see street scenes from long ago.
Though where they are I do not know.
The clothes are unfamiliar.
To me they seem peculiar.
I think it may be Budapest.
But honestly that’s just a guess.
It could be almost anywhere.
But I am sure I’ve not been there.
My wife suggests telepathy.
I do not see how it could be.
A temporal anomaly
which can’t exist apparently.
The learned experts all agree
it’s an impossibility
But can’t explain how I can see
Scenes from the eighteenth century.
I have a photograph which shows.
People in old fashioned clothes.
Which was taken in old Moscow
More than a hundred years ago.
Establishing the verity
Of the intrusive memories
The scenes I see so vividly.
Though how remains a mystery.
I know they are real memories.
Although the experts disagree.
I hope to prove eventually
these memories have reality.
They are passed down genetically.
Encoded in our DNA.
I will research my family tree
and try to prove it come what may.
Although it’s just a theory.
I will pursue it ardently
Some body in my ancestry
may well turn out to be.
A man who lived in old Moscow
Who emigrated to the west.
Although perhaps I’ll never know.
It gives my life an interest.
I like to think that there might be
somebody in my family tree.
Who will prove to be the key
which will unlock the mystery.
Of who perhaps I used to be
in the eighteenth century.
Which would explain the memories
apparently passed down to me
Saturday,21 August 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have a family! !
I have a family
My ancestry a mystery
I was abandoned as a child.
I had no family history.
To which I am now reconciled.
From nursery to children’s home
Until I was adopted by
A couple who made me welcome
With whom I lived quite happily.
They had three children of their own
Who readily accepted me?
An orphan parentage unknown
Addition to their family.
I had three sisters instantly
And better still a mum and Dad.
Who had especially chosen me
to be their only little lad.
I vowed to make them proud of me
I studied hard did well at school.
Then on to university.
I showed the world I was no fool.
I’m a successful businessman
My Family is quite proud of me
which only goes to show you can
overcome successfully.
With the support of family
the problems which you have to face.
To become what you want to
and be a winner in life’s race.
My mum and dad mean more to me
than accolade I may earn.
They fed and clothed and nurtured me
now I support them in my turn
An orphan boy who they took in.
They raised me as their only son
with loving care and discipline
I think I was the lucky one.
They say success is down to me
That I worked to make my way
but we agree to disagree
I love them more than I can say.
4-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tribute to John Masefield 1878-1967
Creed.
I hold that when a person dies.
His soul will return to earth again
Arrayed in some new fleshly disguise.
Another mother gives him birth
with sturdier limbs and brighter brain.
The old soul takes to the road again.
Glosa
I hold that when a person dies
They will receive a second chance.
This universal rule applies
in each and every circumstance.
Although there’s room for argument
To hold this view I am content.
His soul will return to earth again
One life is insufficient
To judge the worth of simple men.
Who go astray by accident
and if their truly penitent.
This does not warrant punishment.
Another mother gives him birth
and raises him with tender care.
Another chance to prove his worth
What I believe is nothing new
but I am certain it is true.
With sturdier limbs and brighter brain.
He will resume his journeying.
Better equipped to start again
he is prepared for anything.
That he may meet upon his quest.
His only task to do his best.
The old soul takes the road again.
As all immortal souls must do.
It’s not important where or when.
What I believe may not be true.
I am content to wait and see
I will find out eventually
Thursday,28 October 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Access Denied
Ofttimes enwrapt in reverie
I have a distant memory
but I cannot be sure it’s true
Of my mother who I barely knew.
She died so very long ago.
There is so much I do not know
I only know what I’ve been told
and that recedes as I grow old.
Although I try I can’t recall
her face: bring it to mind at all.
I feel I should be able to
but there is nothing I can do.
Sometimes I wake to find I’ve wept.
But I can do nothing but accept.
That time’s erased the memory
of the face I long to see.
Some faded photographs remain
which I look at, try to regain.
The memories I have repressed
It may be that it’s for best.
I was so young when mother died.
My wants and needs were satisfied.
By father and the family
and I grew up quite happily.
Would mother have been proud of me?
I she’d lived long enough to see.
The man her little boy grew into.
My mother who I barely knew.
Then I remember guiltily
my mother lost much more than me.
The grandchildren she’d never know
the chance to see her children grow.
But I still pursue selfishly
that one elusive memory.
That’s buried somewhere deep inside
A need that can’t be satisfied.
Perhaps because I’m growing old
and only have what I was told
to remember mother by.
I know I’ll fail but I still try.
24/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Like a leaf in the wind
Her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
Clinging on to tree of life
With nothing more than hope
Devoid of pretense
Shorn of desires
Tossed about, at the whim of a gathering storm
Dark cold has slowed the sap
But deep inside, life fights to surge through
Longing for the next sunny day
When the sap will ease through fluid pathways
Until then, her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
On a high branch she clings alone
While the other leaves huddle
Warm in their numbers
Sheltered in low branches
Wondering how she has lasted so long
While her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
When the storm blows harder,
She sometimes feels close to giving up
And sinking quietly to the ground below
Returning to dust, from where she arose
But something in her refuses to let go
While her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
So come wind, come storm,
Blow as you might
She will cling on to the tree of life
This lone leaf will fight.
poem by Anita Atina
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Death is not the end For M'lady Ernestine
Death is not the end.
A ray of sunlight penetrates
the quiet gloom of the sick room
Wherein a dying lady waits.
For death to call impatiently.
She has no fear she is content
To know that soon she will be free.
For ninety years she’s done her best.
To her the sunlight seems to be
A sign that she has passed the test.
The ray of light eventually
illuminates her final smile.
She passes over quietly.
Her empty shell lies peacefully.
Almost as if she slumbered still.
Her spirit soars triumphantly.
Towards the light she hopes to see.
Remaining faithful to the end
She goes ahead confidently.
She has outlived her family
and all her friends are long since dead.
She lived her life successfully.
She lived and died competently
and she passed on with no regrets.
To start a new life hopefully.
Wednesday,30 June 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Proof positive 2011
Proof positive 2011
This tree is where no tree should be.
It clings to life precariously.
From whence it cam nobody knows.
All that we know is that it grows.
Although it’s stunted gnarled and bent.
It has survived that’s evident.
Perchance it’s where it should not be.
It does not matter to the tree.
This is the only place it knows
and so it very slowly grows.
Defying rules conceived by men
It forces them to think again.
Although the experts all agree.
It’s an impossibility
The tree discounts the experts view
A seed took root and simply grew.
That’s all seeds know how to do.
Its mere existence proves it’s true.
Tuesday,27 December 2011 http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A New leaf
There’s a new leaf upon the Tree
A thousand, thousand have been before
In the life of this great tree
Yet, the Tree rejoices, and is glad
For there is a New Leaf upon the tree
The roots are deep, and hidden
Tis one tree from root to branch
And lives in and through each leaf
The hearts’ smile resurrected
Through the New leaf upon the tree
Like the stars of heaven
New leaves have been many
And so they all are One
For they all share the same root
Bless the New leaf upon the tree
Perfection in the Blessing
Joy released in tears of love
The strength in life will comfort
From root to God above
A New leaf upon the tree
Beauty, Truth, and life
Complete from root to branch
When life’s cycle turns
Leaves fall to nourish roots
And behold, a New leaf upon the tree
poem by Adrian Wait
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Elegy On The Death Of A Church Mouse
‘Colonel Gaddafi is dead; long live Gaddafi’,
- whose words those are?
don’t shoot, don’t shoot,
enough blood is spilled!
Gaddafi,
a leaf from the tree is dead;
leaf sprouts, leaf eats, leaf sleeps in the sky,
leaf waves the world in the cheer of palm,
makes no sand out of storm,
no beating themselves by the horse drain,
no hanging noose by the cock’s strain.
Leaf feeds the tree with green
when upon it’s tender face, the horrid-sun shine,
leaf, bearer of flower, bearer of seed,
never the taster of the sap from earth
till drops dead in the paleness of red,
‘don't shoot, don't shoot,
upon the sand is blood,
for the Colonel is dead’,
said, the tree,
and said, ‘Long live Gaddafi!
poem by Saranyan Bee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Borrowed Time
His life is drawing to its close.
He has lived past three score and ten
and has no reason to suppose
That he should know the how and when.
He is not ready yet to go
his life is full of interest
Although his pace of life is slow
he has retained his youthful zest.
Now often plagued by aches and pains,
accepts them philosophically.
Its very seldom he complains,
he knows there is no remedy
for his ailments. He is quite sure
death will provide a lasting cure.
8-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Family Tree
There's love within our family tree
and happiness abound.
Its roots are deeply planted
in rich and fertile ground.
We enjoy the rays of sunlight
and endure the winds and rain,
and when a leaf falls from our tree,
together we share the pain.
God gave us earthly families
and never did intend,
that bonds of love built on Earth
upon our death should end.
For when our life is over
and from earth our souls will flee,
one by one, leaf by leaf,
He'll rejoin our family tree.
poem by Ron Tranmer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Different Dreams
Do not judge me by your standards
Because they don’t apply to me
Your punishments and your rewards
Are of no consequence to me.
The principles which I live by.
Apply to me and me alone
I see no reason I should try
to change my ways; act differently
I do not seek the spotlights glare.
Fame is of no interest to me
I really do not think I’d care
to be some flash celebrity/
I am quite happy with my life
I do not need the extra stress,
the trials troubles and the strife
Which are the trappings of success.
Continue to pursue your dream
as you have every right to do
But things aren’t always what they seem
You’ll learn through time my words are true.
I find I am content to be
a simple ordinary man.
I jog along quite happily
and live the best way that I can.
I don’t judge you, so don’t judge me.
You have your life and I have mine
Can we agree to disagree
and part as friends amicably.
11-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not even a knight bannarette.
Not even a knight bannerette.
Today some wannabees long to be
part of the aristocracy.
So they research their family tree
in search of noble ancestry.
They’re quite prepared to spend their brass
to prove that they are upper class.
I’m sad to say that most; alas
Find ancestors they’d rather pass
Although they hope they rarely find.
The noble blood they have in mind.
But plenty of the common kind.
The family legend’s undermined.
Eventually they realise.
The family legend’s based on lies.
Monday,16 August 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why She Never Did
The tears flow from her eyes as a question look arises upon her face
For she knows that I don't care at all
But why should I care why should I have to care
About someone that for the past few years has tried
To ruin my family and has done a fine job of it
I and my mom have become bad again
And I and my slept dad have grown so far apart
That I don't even know where to start
To be able to be as close to him as I once was
My family has fallen apart in so little time
That it will never be the same
I hate her
And will continue to hate her
Until I die
And I will have nothing to do with her grave
What so ever
The evil that she put in my life will never be forgotten
But the happiness that will soon follow will be cherished
How is a kid supposed to feel?
About some person that has made them has so much pain
In there life that it has changed them for the worse
In my eyes she died on the same day as her husband
Because from that day forward
The devil had captured her soul
And throw it away
So what is a kid supposed to think when someone
So mean and vises dies
Because apparently what I think and what I feel
Is wrong
You tell me
You tell me
Why in hell I should feel sad
That someone from hell
That had no feeling what so ever for anyone else
But her self
Why should I think her death was a bad thing?
When really it was a good thing
Why should I acted for them
When she can't see me anymore
And she never gave a rat's ass about any of us kids
So why should I act like I cared
That she died
Why should I
When she never did
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Smallest Leaf
Consider the way of smallest leaf
That grows on the biggest tree
Humbly serving in the life it lives
Just from planting a tiny seed
Serving from the lowest to the highest branch
With total faith to the tasks it’s given
Devoted to dress the naked tree
By the reason that it is living
Enduring the rush of unnatural storms
As the whistling wind sustains its blow
And loyal it hangs through the burning heat
As its maturity starts to show
While its colors adorn the autumn trees
And a new season begins
Where drooping trees portray the scene
That its life is near the end
A call to destiny pulls the leaf
From all thoughts of what could be
Replaced by a bud that will grow in time
As the tree hopes for a bigger leaf
Strong stands the tree that rejects the leaf
After a lifetime of servitude
Though it serves no more value on the tree
The tree still needs it for food.
poem by Kelvin Gene Lee I
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is About The Entire Performance
It is highly unlikely...
But,
Nothing is impossible...
That a leaf,
Connected to a twig or a branch...
Of a rooted tree,
Would not have a clue...
How it is associated with the process,
Of life.
Or...
That it accepts it has nothing to do with it at all.
However...
Attempts to deceive the other leaves,
They too are equally independent.
And can do what they wish...
With this being totally ignored,
By the Earth from which it feeds!
It is unlikely that a leaf would be that selfish.
But...
I BET it gets the point,
When that tree begins to give it signals...
Its leeching days,
Are not permanently attached.
And that leaf has to go!
And the Earth,
In agreement AND with approval given...
Knows WHO runs the show!
It is not about the part the leaf plays in the act.
It is about the entire performance that is important.
AND...
Has only ONE director.
'Some' leaves get this!
However,
Many do not.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The best laid plans for J.T Ellison
The best laid plans
He sits and thinks but rarely shares
the subject of his pondering
He is convinced nobody cares
to hear his views on anything.
He does not like to watch T.V.
unlike the other residents.
He’s happy sitting quietly
Reviewing long ago events.
When he was self sufficient.
Intelligent and capable
‘til a cerebral accident
which rendered him incapable
of living independently.
Forced his reception into care
although it’s very plain to see
He would much rather be elsewhere.
Though he’s disabled physically
His mental capability
is not impaired apparently.
He accepts philosophically.
Life rarely goes as you have planned.
We meet with things we don’t expect
for fate not man is in command
What fate decrees we must accept.
22/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paid in full for friend Leslie
Like a feathered arrow flying.
Straight and true but silently
Speeds the message of your dying
a missile you won’t hear or see.
When you chose to slay my tribesmen.
Slaughter squaws and little children
striking in the dead of night.
My people had no chance to fight.
You thought no one had survived
unaware one warrior lived.
From my totem seeking guidance
I chose to meditate by chance.
In the forest secretly
I kept my vigil faithfully.
Alerted by he dying cries
of people dying by surprise.
Cut down by killers as they slept.
I had no choice but to accept.
My totem had protected me
because my totem could foresee.
The secret plans of wicked men
Who had killed and would again.
Great Manitou had chosen me
to hunt them down relentlessly
Their punishment my sole intent
I knew I would not rest content.
Until the last of them had died
My spirit wails unsatisfied..
when the last of them has paid
the price for the part he played.
in murdering my family.
My quest will end successfully
When my arrow pierces you
a punishment long overdue.
I will give praise to Manitou
as any warrior ought to do.
20/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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One true fact story poem
From whence he came nobody knew.
Out of the mists he came alone
A frightened child in ragged clothes
How he survived remains unknown
He cannot or will not tell
from where he came or who he is.
Found wandering in a freezing hell
few places are as bleak as this.
Snow clad the rugged mountains rise
Far, far above the plains below.
A barren place of rock and snow
scoured by the bitter winds which blow.
I have to say with certainty.
No human beings could live here.
But I am wrong apparently
this child appearing makes that clear.
We were all taken by surprise
to see this urchin wandering
Yet there he was before our eyes
In need of help and shivering.
His urgent need must override
the object of our mission
Unanimously we decide
this alters our position.
We have no choice we have to try
to save the life of this small child.
It’s not our place to wonder why
he came to be here in the wild.
We radio H.Q. for aid
explain the situation.
There are arrangements to be made
for this small boys reception.
We keep him warm and give him food
Descend the mountain carefully
H.Q had fully understood
and had prepared accordingly.
When we arrived he was flown to
the nearest modern hospital.
Where they would do all they
could do to save his life if possible.
We done our best could do no more
but wait and pray impatiently.
Sit by the wireless waiting for
some news of his recovery.
News came he was responding well
but still he could or would not speak.
there was no way that we could tell.
Why he was wandering on the peak.
It must remain a mystery
a subject we will long debate.
Though we discuss it endlessly.
At least we can appreciate.
The boy will live that is enough
and make a full recovery
Although we’ll never know the truth
of how and why he came to be.
Alone amidst the ice and snow
abandoned on a mountain peak.
Where human beings rarely go
The boy is dumb he cannot speak.
His story he can never tell
Despite our curiosity
Perhaps in time if all goes well
we will resolve the mystery.
We must return try to complete
research we set out to do.
Though warring theories will compete
for ever more as theories do.
No one can say with certainty
Though experts may pontificate
upon this strange anomaly.
I do not care to speculate.
What does it matter anyway
The boy is safe and that will do.
No longer wandering astray
That fact I know at least is true.
05/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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