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Two Poems from our Tributes, Memorials Poetry Collection

 
 
Every grain of sand
   
Author: Ronda Pardee
   
Poem:
Every grain of sand
   
  One morning a child was born.
She was born as her father walked in the sand.

He heard the thunder, he saw the lightning.
It was raining debris; He wished for water.

Across the world
he felt she had arrived, though he had not been told.
He knew she was coming.
He was missing her; loving her, imagining her.

Every grain of sand was a future memory.
He pictured her growing.
He colored her hair blonde.
Her eyes would be blue, and fingers long;
Hands of a future pianist.
She'd grow to be strong, like her mother.
Soon he could hear the melody,
as she fluttered her fingers on the keys;
Hair in a French braid.

He held the sand in his hands,
careful not to drop a single grain.

She was growing so quickly.
A beautiful young girl on a stage;
The lead in the school play.
He heard his own hands applauding,
though he never let go of the sand.
Proms and dances, cameras flash;
She is happy.

A white wedding gown, he escorted her,
and gave her away;
A kiss on the cheek, and a smile.

One morning, a child was born
as her father walked in the sand.

"With the Rockets Red Glare,
Bombs Bursting in Air"

He died in Iraq,
I know Lexi was there.

Lexi was born at 11:15 ;
He died at 11:00.

I am sure
by the grace of God,
they crossed paths
in Heaven.
   
  More Tributes, Memorials poems
 
 
ONE MORE TIME TO CELEBRATE CONNIE W.
   
Author: Renee Petrola
   
Poem: ONE MORE TIME TO CELEBRATE CONNIE W.
   

Despite the pain your eyes still knew how to smile
bringing light, for a time, to my heart.
You look at me as if silent...questioning,
quietly listening to my silence.
There are times when I feel stranded
in your eternal tunnel of night.
Worlds of angry words fall away in empty silence-
spinning in the darkness,
twisting into nothingness.
When this season wearies will you remain with me,
or will your shadow pass along the gritty surface.
Every now and then...
when the light is just right
and the air holds that fragrance
I remember your stance-
Tall in the bright sunlight
your outline unpolished, broken into dots, dashes-
my eyes the pencil that will draw you,
never lifting off the page
to capture, in detail, your essence
for, what I know to be the last time.
Silently you watched me watch you.
I waited for your first move.
The signal that would let me know I could approach
Holding my breath, never blinking...
Just in case I missed your token.

 
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