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Array ( [sid] => 27317 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Peace in the End [time] => 2003-11-17 13:53:16 [hometext] => [bodytext] => His ashen sweater hung loosely on his shoulders
The sleeves frayed from years of wear
Tucked on his nose sat his gold brimmed glasses
They rest upon the permanent dimples they've left on his cheeks
His hopes and dreams have been replaced
With satisfaction that they've been done
His frail left hand holds a picture
One framed in the finest pine
The oil from his fingerprints
The only marks on it you'll see
Within the frame sits the bust of a woman
One of pure beauty and of grace
Her hair a silken sea of gray
Her lips a crimson red
And in his hand he held her
As if he was holding her hand
To his right there stood a nightstand
One he crafted himself in 83
Protecting the finish were his memories
Lined up neatly in a layer of dust
Two boys, a girl, a dog, a house
Eleven grandchildren in between
He had taken his time to reminensce
His breathing now calm and serene
This once strong man now crumbled
His failing heart now felt alive
He gathered all his pictures
And held them tightly to his chest
His legs curled up, his head on his pillow
In peacefullness he died...

[comments] => 4 [counter] => 355 [topic] => 48 [informant] => Lia [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )

Peace in the End

Contributed by Lia on Monday, 17th November 2003 @ 01:53:16 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry

His ashen sweater hung loosely on his shoulders
The sleeves frayed from years of wear
Tucked on his nose sat his gold brimmed glasses
They rest upon the permanent dimples they've left on his cheeks
His hopes and dreams have been replaced
With satisfaction that they've been done
His frail left hand holds a picture
One framed in the finest pine
The oil from his fingerprints
The only marks on it you'll see
Within the frame sits the bust of a woman
One of pure beauty and of grace
Her hair a silken sea of gray
Her lips a crimson red
And in his hand he held her
As if he was holding her hand
To his right there stood a nightstand
One he crafted himself in 83
Protecting the finish were his memories
Lined up neatly in a layer of dust
Two boys, a girl, a dog, a house
Eleven grandchildren in between
He had taken his time to reminensce
His breathing now calm and serene
This once strong man now crumbled
His failing heart now felt alive
He gathered all his pictures
And held them tightly to his chest
His legs curled up, his head on his pillow
In peacefullness he died...

Copyright © Lia ... [ 2003-11-17 13:53:16]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Peace in the End (User Rating: 1 )
by MarcoTheFish on Monday, 17th November 2003 @ 02:53:56 PM AEST
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absolutely beautiful

Re: Peace in the End (User Rating: 1 )
by Valerie_Pearson on Monday, 17th November 2003 @ 03:37:23 PM AEST
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Lia, really a great write, a beautiful dignified way to leave this world too, thanks for sharing, Val

Re: Peace in the End (User Rating: 1 )
by ToriVeigh on Monday, 17th November 2003 @ 08:49:39 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Beautiful poem. You did a great job expressing what his treasures were.

Re: Peace in the End (User Rating: 1 )
by Wrybod on Tuesday, 18th November 2003 @ 06:04:42 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Problems seeing through the tears to write this.

Grampa bob.

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