I Think Well of Her
It was years ago when I first met her.
She was the siren of Laguna Beach,
Well endowed, a body to be envied by all women
And, licentiously desired by all men.
She walked like a cat;
Mysterious behind her large, darkly
Tinted glasses, causing people to turn
And watch as she silently passed them by.
She was not pretentious, she was herself,
As she was born to be.
She was not young but, at that time of life
When all was an intoxicating awareness
Of love and beauty, wrapped in a ferver for life,
Living it to its maximum.
I saw her again, many years later,
Confined to a home-health care facility;
Mobile to the limits of a wheelchair.
The shadows of time deepened,
As a flickering dance of advancing days
Hovered about her face.
I remember her, once glorious in her youthful beauty,
A blaze of eloquent passion. Now, she seems a dying ember,
In the gray, slow-fire ash of old age.
I think well of her, as I thought well of her,
With all kindness and tenderness,
Just as a man remembers, through the scroll
Of decades past, those places and people
He enjoyed and loved the most.
poem by Lynn W. Petty
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Related quotes
The Meaning Of Life Is Unique To Us All
When I was five I wanted to be ten,
How I longed to be a young man,
My mind would wander every now and then,
I wanted to be in the grown ups clan.
When I reached ten I thought of being twenty,
By then I'd be driving my car,
Time for the future, well I still had plenty,
Getting older was a distance too far.
Now I've hit twenty I've nothing to fear,
Time goes past so very slow,
I'm still a young man so I've nothing to fear
I've still got a long time to go.
Thirty years old and it's still not too bad,
I've a wife and children I love,
My health is good I love being a Dad,
My life is a gift from above,
The big four zero has finally come,
I now watch, as my parents grow frail,
The thought of that is making me feel numb,
To prevent it should be our holy grail.
I'm now in my fifties my children have flown,
This life can be really quite strange,
Back when I was five I wish I had known,
Growing older you cannot exchange.
Be careful what you wish for it may come true,
Take your time for life is too short,
Enjoy every minute, age you cannot subdue,
When young the facts you distort.
I'm now in my eighties how I wish I were five,
My time here has just flown by,
All those I loved would still be alive,
Now their memories still make me cry.
The moral is don't wish your life away,
Treat each living second as your last,
Enjoy your years every glorious day,
For in the blink of an eye it has passed.
Scientists spend billions asking why we exist,
Look outside, what you see will enthrall,
It is solely for living is the point they've all missed,
‘‘ The Meaning Of Life Is Unique To Us All ‘'
Dear Love, Do You Remember?
Dearest one, do you remember,
As we sat side by side,
How you told me that you loved me,
Asked me to be your bride.
And you told me we'd be happy,
Through all the years to come,
If we ever would prove faithful,
As in the days when we were young.
Oh! how well do I remember,
The kind and loving words,
And now as I sat dreaming,
The thoughts my memory stirs.
But the days have passed before me,
And the scenes of long ago,
But I can never forget the
Days that have passed o'er.
Oh! how clearly I remember
The days when we were young,
How we would tell to each other
Of happy times to come,
And as we would sit together,
That dear loved one and I,
Oh, sat dreaming of the future,
And childhood days gone by.
Dearest love, do you remember
The first time that we met --
Our youthful days have gone, love,
I hope you love me yet,
Now we are growing old, love,
Our heads will soon be gray,
May we ever love each other
Till from earth we pass away.
poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Treat Each Living Second As Your Last
When I was five how I wanted to be ten,
I just longed to be a young man,
My mind would wander now and then,
I wanted to be in the grown ups clan.
When I reached ten I thought of being twenty,
By then I'd be driving my car,
Time for the future, well I still had plenty,
Getting older was a distance to far.
Now I've hit twenty I've nothing to fear,
Time fades past me so slow,
I'm still a young man so I've nothing to fear
I've still got a long time to go.
Thirty years old and it's still not too bad,
I've a wife and children I love,
My health is good I love being a dad,
My life is truly a gift from above,
The big four zero has finally come,
I now watch, as my parents grow old,
The thought of that is making me feel numb,
As I know it cannot be controlled.
I'm now in my fifties my children have flown,
This life can be really strange,
Back when I was five I wish I had known,
Growing older you cannot exchange.
Be careful what you wish for it may come true,
Cherish life for it's far too short,
Enjoy what you have age you cannot subdue,
When you're young these facts you distort.
I'm now eighty years old how I wish I were five,
Hindsight's such a wonderful thing,
All those I loved dearly would still be alive,
I'd be thinking of what the future might bring.
You must live for today forget tomorrow,
Just be thankful for being alive,
Though there will be joy as well as sorrow,
It's how we cope that makes us all thrive.
Life is precious don't ever wish it away,
When it's gone it becomes part of the past,
Enjoy your years every wondrous day,
‘' Treat Each living Second As Your Last ‘'
These Words Too Say What Love Was
ATHESE WORDS TOO SAY WHAT LOVE WAS
These words too say what Love was-
Though I am long from that love and those feelings-
Once there were songs in the night and great passion
And we were a kind of happiness that only the very blessed know-
I had dreamed of such love for so long
And you in your beauty were all Beauty could ever be-
We loved for a long time
And in that love I learned forever that Love is real-
But somehow in a way I will never understand
For you that love died-
And I was left loving without being loved
And had to go a long time in the pain of longing for you again-
But that was long long ago
And now where our love is no one can ever know
For it is only in memories that cannot truly capture what it really was-
Love it is true is the most beautiful thing we know
And I knew this with you
And will be grateful for it forever-
Though the nights the many years of nights in the long time that has passed say
There are other feelings by which we live and kinder quieter loves also -
O passion of my life oh destiny long gone oh Love I will never know again,
Do you blame yourself at all as I long ago have forgiven you
For abandoning the Beauty of our Life for long sad years of concentrated mindfilled gladnesses?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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An Aged Veteran Of World War 2
I'll tell to you a story of one I vaguely know
An aged veteran of World war 2 some sixty years ago
A poor worn out old warrior the years have left him gray
In the early stages of forgetfulness his memory in decay.
Part of his right leg amputated ten centimetres below the knee
As a result of a grenade a horrific war injury
It ruined his chances of finding love and winning for himself a wife
And all of the dreams he's ever had of enjoying a happy life.
In his electrical wheelchair on the sidewalk a sad look on his face
A frail and an elderly citizen and familiar to the place
Decorated for his bravery under fire more than six decades ago
An old man waiting for his end that few now wish to know.
He lives in the retirement home from the shopping centre a short drive
The killing fields of Europe he was lucky to survive
But he did not return home unscathed as his missing limb testify
For a lesson that's unlearned millions of young people had to die.
An old man in his late eighties the hard life on him show
And I see him fairly often though me he does not seem to know
Yet when we meet to his sad face there comes a smile and he always says hello
A veteran of World war 2 some six decades ago.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Future Is The Children's
The future is the children's and I am of the past
And I too had my young years but nothing ever last
On looking back the Seasons how quickly the years have gone
Old age is fast approaching and the clock ticks on and on.
The future is the children's the children of today
They have the gift of youth with them though youth with them won't stay
On looking back decades from now when time has left them slow
They will wonder as I do where did the years to go.
The years are catching up one me and time has left me gray
And the future is the children's that would be true to say
The people in their sixties are running out of time
And few of them will be living when today's children are in their prime.
The future is the children's and to them alone belong
And those who will tell you differently have somehow got it wrong
But the hands of time keep turning and time on none does wait
And all of us are branded with an invisible use by date.
poem by Francis Duggan
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In praise of older women for M lady Ernestine
There is beauty in old age
which younger girls can’t emulate
As if the lady’s reached the stage
where she need not dissimulate
She’s not afraid to let you see
the lines that life’s writ on her face.
Each wrinkle was earned honourably
each laughter line has earned its place
Cosmetics may conceivably
appear to slow the passing years
but only temporarily
before you are reduced to tears
Youthful beauty soon fades away
no matter how hard you may try
by artifice to make it stay.
In lucky ladies replaced by
A much longer lasting beauty
which shows from somewhere deep inside
without a trace of vanity
Though grace and dignity abide.
Old ladies can be beautiful
and often turn a young man’s head.
Although they are quite comfortable
accepting compliments unsaid.
Admiring glances from young men
who readily appreciate
The beauty of older women
is something youth can’t imitate.
Young women lack maturity
which older ladies can display.
Their youthful insecurity
somehow always gets in the way.
29-Jul-08
http// blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Karrett
Karrett
An Ode to the Couple that made an Impression
Days, months, years, decades…centuries
Time built up quickly, all was too fast
All have come and gone but nothing could stay
Except for the being that one could touch but still was only a vapor
Imprisoned by time, I was hopeless and nothing more.
Long gone was the desire to think that something of goodness will knock.
I felt nothing. I was nothing.
Caught by surprise, he could see me.
I was not a vapor, I was not invisible.
He was intrigued; I could sense it and see it.
He desired to know what the mask concealed.
To come off with a warning is the least caution but he did not heed it.
He shattered the mirrors and broke the wall.
He indeed wanted to know the woman I was before it all.
He desired to learn of who I was before time consumed me and left me.
It was past comprehension and knowledge to answer questions of mine of him.
How?
Why?
Now that he sees, he cared nothing about the evils and could not care more about this being.
He saw the beauty that I long thought left.
He rekindled life, if life is what it is, in me.
He saw me; I was not nothing to him.
If you should ask, he was beautiful. Enchanting.
His eyes spoke of much.
We were both ruined yet together we brought each other back.
We were mended by our love.
poem by Maria Luz Ungab
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I Wish That I Could Have Stayed In My Twenties
Life seemed so good when I was in my twenties
Before time left me looking old and gray
I used to play Soccer and Gaelic football
And I could run and chase the ball all day.
I was never much good at soccer or Gaelic football
Though like many others I too dreamt of fame
But I did not play for esteem and honours
I only played because I loved the game
I wish that I could have stayed in my twenties
Life is much better for those in their prime
But on looking back three decades passed so quickly
And one can't turn back the hands of time.
It has been said that with gray hairs there's wisdom
But as often is the case it isn't so
Some people as they age they grow less tolerant
And they seemed to have more wisdom years ago.
The best years of my life were in my twenties
When I could run and chase the ball all day
And don't tell me that in gray hairs there is wisdom
When it is more of a sign of ageing and decay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Don't Dance Me To The End
Don’t dance me to the end of love, but dance
me to the place where it resumes as if beginning
anew, each time, with nothing left to chance
except the penalties that come from sinning.
Like Babylonians let me feel you moving,
but let us not, before we go to bed,
recall Egyptians with their books approving
the afterlife they dream up for the dead.
While we are dancing, let’s think only of
the here and now, and so together burn
with passion for the life and after-love
that follows us when on one bed we turn,
but when in bed, recalling Babylon
whose waters both our ancestors once drank,
let us remember times that, though bygone,
from memories of lovetimes never shrank.
Inspired by Leonard Cohen’s “Dance Mee to the End of Love”:
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone
Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon
Show me slowly what I only know the limits of
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long
We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the children who are asking to be born
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
11/14/07
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Were I A Horse
A balding man my hair is gray decades ago it was brown
Were I a horse I'm sure by now that I would have been put down
I feel so very stiff and old father time is catching up on me
And I for one don't fear life's end what is to be will be.
I was not any good at sports I cannot dance and sing
I'm just your average ordinary bloke not much good at anything
They say only the good die young and I still linger on
And better people by far than I deceased, forgotten and gone.
Were I a horse I'd have been put down that may seem crude to say
But that's what happens to most horses when they have had their day
Most horses save for the lucky few not allowed to grow old and die
I feel grateful to be still around more living I'll enjoy.
Were I a horse I'd have been put down for dog or cat food maybe
The knacker takes the worn out horse the Reaper will claim me
The years on me begin to tell my fastest pace is slow
And I was in the prime of life some thirty years ago.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Those Legs That Once Could Run So Fast
Those legs that once could run so fast feel heavy now and slow
He sure is not the man he was some forty years ago
He played football with his young mates he drank till pub closing time
But that was many years ago when he was in his prime,
On looking back the decades time seems to have gone fast
He had his good days one must suppose though nothing seems to last
And time catches up on all of us though some with hair dye cover their gray
But Mother Nature on us all does have the final say,
Forty five years ago he was the hero of the local Football team
In the cup final he kicked the winning goal a boost to his self esteem
By his team-mates he was shouldered from the field of play the cheers for him rang loud
And thinking of his glorious hour still makes him feel so proud
And now at night he sits at home with his ageing and forgetful wife
And time is catching up on him one might say such is life.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Love Story(The King And I)
Once in time, there lived a king
Who lives still, nor ever could die
Who lived neither in space nor time
But made them both alike
For his queen to breathe and move
While he watched from not so far a distance
As she danced and played, and laughed and ached
He loved her so, and longed to show her so
Born by love, she sought for love
In all the wrong places and all the wrong people
While all the while the love she sought
Was in her, was by her, was for her, and with her
The time had come for her to know
The one who indeed loved her so
'I am God', he said, I love you so
And this I did, and that I did, to show you so
I'd love for you to love me too and show me so
Let me in, and make me your king or something in between
She took him in, and became his queen
And him her king and so much more
He fought for her, the apple of his eye
The beauty from his ashes
There lied a problem, he knew her number
The number of her days
He unbound by time, loved one bound in time
To live forever, he died to save her
She cried and cried, for he was gone away
I'm building our kingdom, he said in a letter
I'll be back so soon, I miss you too
A day to her, a thousand years to him
She waited and waited, and then became like knaves
She said these words when are days were made:
To my darling, my love, my king
You walked with me, you talked with me
Now I'm here, so far from you
My conscience is fading
With evil prevailing
The thoughts that walk the streets of my mind
Are far from good, my heart far from home
Years unending, I did my will
And chased the thrills of my will
Despair revealed his face in mine
As all I got was pain and shame
I could apologize for falling short today
And still fall short tomorrow
I am frail...I am human
But in all my humanity
I have come to love your divinity
In the day I breathe my last
May I see your face
And rest forever in your arms
The King smiled and thought to himself
In all my divinity, I have come to love your humanity
Rest in peace my child, my love, my queen.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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She Does Deserve Great Sympathy
Ageing Bella in the house at the corner outdoors she is not often seen
She was a potential swimming Olympian till a motoring accident she had at eighteen
Brought an end to her swimming career back in ninteen seventy three
And condemned her to life in a wheelchair she does deserve great sympathy.
She could not compete in the Olympics and swim her way into renown
And become the toast of the Nation and the heroine of her Hometown
It robbed her of her chance of having children she has never been any man's wife
one might say she was quite unlucky that accident ruined her life.
She is quite an attractive woman her brown hair flecked with strands of gray
She had spent years of her life in a wheelchair seven to ten years before her prime day
when I meet her she smiles and says hello but sometimes she looks rather sad
I can only empathize with her a terrible life she has had.
Thirty six of her fifty four years in a wheelchair since her widowed mum died five years ago she has lived on her own
Lady luck is surely against her a terrible life she has known
Confined to a wheelchair due to a car crash on the highway which robbed her of her chance of fame
In swimming she was a young champion and for herself making a name.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Old Rhyming Poet
In his early eighties his best days long gone
But the gray haired old poet he keeps penning on
Though many see him as of another time
Sixty years as a poet and still writing in rhyme.
Though not seen as a mentor to the young poets of the town
He once was the Regional Poet Laureate and he knew of renown
When rhyme it was popular a long time ago
And his hair was as dark as the wing of a crow.
Not hard to tell he's known a far better day
The old rhyming poet that the years have left gray
It has been more than five decades since he was in his prime
Eventually we all become victims of time.
In time as in life few things do seem to last
And verses that rhyme are now seen as of the past
But to him to stop writing would be living a lie
And he will be a poet till the day that he die.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Live Life Right (song)
These days just keep goin' by
It seems like I'm loosein' my life
The whole world is flyin' by me as i stand still
I start walkin' slowly as it passes before my eyes
Am i loosing my life
Or am i the only one takein' my time
Everyone seems to be in a hurry
Why can't we all slow down and take a break
Set aside all our problems in life
Just raise up your glasses and live your life right
Why are young people in such a hurry to grow old
While the old people wish they were young once again
Why do we wish for things that will never come true
And chase silly dreams the you know aren't for you
All these silly dreams and wishes are just a waste of time
Why spend your life chasing the horizon when you could be haveing fun
Everyone seems to be in a hurry
Why can't we all slow down and look around
Just set aside all our problems in life
Raise up our glasses and live life right
Life is to short to go chasing dreams you'll never catch
So just slow down and take your time
And try to do your best
Cause you only get one chance to live your life
So you better live it like the life u want to live
And don't let anyone tell you other wise
Cause if you let other people control your life
then you'll live your life always asking why
poem by Angelica Boyce
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The Virgin Man
My Love,
Today when you told me
That “something”
Happened to you
As I sat close to you
Whenever you were there
With me
And I with You.
Trust Me –
I don’t even remember
On how many such occasions
That “something” happened to you
When and where…
What day, and what place.
Yet I do remember
That very lovely smile
On your handsome face
Those twinkling eyes of yours
And the way you used to
Scribble your head
With those seductive
Fingers of yours…
Setting your hair straight
Combing your fingers through
And my Love,
Today when you confessed
About those “very difficult” times
When you felt it so hard
To stop yourself
From falling all over me…
I felt wonderful!
Being desired by you
For I’ve always desired you
Psychologically, emotionally
And physically -
Like a woman would desire
The man of her life
To whom she wants to be a
Life-long wife.
Once and for all,
If we could turn the clock back
And those moments of desire
Would come to us again
I wish you were not so
Hesitant
And neither was I
So very coy.
I wish you could come
Falling for me…
Seeking me
With love and passion.
And I would have had
Demurely, Blushingly
Yet so very truly
Given in to you
With my true emotions
That are still
Very much there...
For you, and you and you
After all these years
Of living in separation.
Call it the Game of Time
Or Destiny
May be a lot to do
With God’s Decree.
That when I felt for you
And You felt for me
I kept quite and
So did you.
If that one last time
Whenever it was -
Out of all the times
You had desired me
When I sat next to you
Talking all and sundry.
That one very moment
You could have let it out
And I could have had
The Guts
To say it all out -
How very much
I truly loved you
Deeply desired you
And even do
Till this very day.
That one moment in time
Ripe in passion and in love
Would have changed
Our destinies forever…
And I would have asked you
To marry me, to make me yours
I would have faced the world for you
If only you would have been mine.
Yes – That moment in time
Lost to posterity
Still has its fleeting glimpses
In us
In the memories we share
For we know
However much we care
For each other.
Now – You are no longer
That Virgin Man
And I am no more that
Virgin Woman
To offer our
Virgin love and passion
To each other.
You and me
Busy with our families
Being married elsewhere
Now seek comfort
And respite
In the memories of days gone by…
And some consolation
That there is a relationship
We hope to cherish
Till death makes us part
That is our long-distance
Time-tied, life-long
Friendship.
And what more can we do
As we always do…
Than me write a poem
And you read it through
Of a once Virgin Man
Who had feelings for
A once Virgin Woman.
Yet so blissfully unaware
That he was the Man
The Love of her Life
Whom she would have loved
To beget sons and daughters
As his very beloved wife.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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The footprints in my heart
My heart looks like a beach
After a long summers day
Absolute chaos
A whole life of people
Or just a day of chaos
When my heart
was just like a beach
early morning
just as the sun came up
washed clean of all that came before
not a print
unblemished by peoples disregard
for it is clean of all chaos
then I let the first person in
who walked a long trail
lonely path cut into fresh sand
serenity has come beauty
the first footprint
interrupted by a calm wave
sweeping to interrupt the first sign
of someone walking on my heart
then as the time drags on the beauty changed
more people than just one
disrupting my clean beach
walking, jumping, lying on my beach
the beauty changed to chaos
but for one thing
the footprint of love
of care that the beauty should not be touched
then hurt of the careless one
leaving their dirt behind
muddy footprints of a careless child
a conceited adult
so during the erosion of my beach
day in day out
night for night
cleaning and sweeping
but for those
careless footprints
of the one who used the beach
with no care
for what damage they do
they destroyed
the beautiful beach
the beautiful heart
so the question is
will with time
this beach
heal and find its beauty again
will the footprints of the new day
come back and make
the heart forget
those days of chaos
I wait for the one person
Early one morning
To make new footprint
Not one set, but two
One for me and one for her
New footprints on my heart
In My Advancing Years
And,
In my advancing years...
Those struggles I feared,
Are memories of my past.
I ask and I've kept,
That peace of mind once out of my reach.
I desire more to explore,
A life now I've allowed to teach.
Instead of a search I keep,
In continued excuses met to refuse...
A life given to me.
And one I discovered I like,
In my advancing years.
And,
In my advancing years...
Tears that once flowed,
For those I miss so much in my life.
Today,
I've come to realize my life should be lived...
And not to fight,
Against...
The acceptance of surprises.
And I should stop sitting on a fence
In those disguises to hide.
In my advancing years,
I've learned to dance...
Until the music stops.
And I'm no longer here...
To hear as clear as I do now.
With ears that will be silenced.
And I should not wait,
Or anticipate the outcome.
But I will instill adventure.
In my advancing years uncensored.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Gossiper
(9/15/12)
She was well to do, and had more
Money than me and you.
She loved to gossip and put people down
it mattered not- who was around.
She talked about everyone that she knew
And wouldn't let you leave till she was through.
She talked about her neighbors and her friends
And put them down to the bitter end.
They said she was lonely and didn't have a life
But who in the world would make her " his wife"?
Now the years have taken its toll
And she's gotten very old.
But! There was someone " who had done just that"
And she became bitter and fat.
She had married at a very young age
To a man who was twice her age.
After a few years he passed away
And she became even more bitter and enraged.
That is when she started to talk
About all who was around
And enjoyed the fact of putting people down.
Soon no one came to visit any more
For she had closed all the doors
They had gotten tired of trying
To be her friend, when she talked
About them - to no end.
There was nothing that could stop
Her wagging tongue, even as she
Was in her dying bed.
She talked about the living and the dead.
When the time came and she was laid to rest.
They said there was two coffins laid in the ground.
One for her body and one for her tongue
So she could not talk to anyone.
(the comical moral of this story)
: Don't talk without knowing- cause
Your tongue don't know where it's going.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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