Poetry Day at #OurAuthorGang

 A poem by David W. Thompson

We’ll Remember

 

You left us way too early.

No time would be enough.

Still, time heals all, or so I’m told

But if the years do dull the pain

What then of the memories?

Will past joys, too, slip from sight?

 

Will my mind’s eye distort your visage

‘Til only faded photos remain?

Will your voices not whisper in the wind?

Soothing my fears, answering my prayers?

Will the taste of a freshly picked tomato

Not recall the loving labor of your hands?

 

For I’d bear this grief with a smile,

Pray the lash cut even deeper,

To never forget your names

To not know a day without you…

 

I saw your dreams forgotten.

While making our dreams come true

You did so forever smiling

Could it be that they were the same?

 

But my grief makes me selfish

For I knew you oh so long.

Others have missed you deeply

And now your pain is gone.

 

I know you’ll always be watching

To guide, to comfort, to cheer.

I know you’ll not be lonely

With so many in your arms.

 

But know this heart is empty.

Until I am too reborn.

 

And we won’t forget

Love you, Mom and Dad.

David W. Thompson

https://www.david-w-thompson.com

David is a multiple award-winning author, Army veteran, and graduate of UMUC. He’s a multi-genre writer and a member of the Horror Writers’ Association, and the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association. When not writing, Dave enjoys family, kayaking, fishing, hiking, hunting, winemaking, and woodcarving.

Poetry Day 3 at #OurAuthorGang

 A poem by Eva Bielby

LONG AWAITED!

It happened weeks too early.

Something was wrong.

I knew it when the pains started.

Hours later, after all the pain…

no baby in my arms.

Three weeks dead in my womb I was told.

How had I not realised?

Utter devastation.

The questions; did I want to see my baby girl?

Did I want to hold her? A funeral?

I couldn’t think straight.

No! No! And no!

If I didn’t see, if I didn’t cuddle…

I couldn’t hurt,

or so I told myself.

 

A year later.

Thirty-seven weeks with child.

The pains started early,

but she had been moving.

I’d felt her move,

she would be okay.

But tragedy struck once more

My new hope was gone.

Too tiny and weak to fight.

The course of labour, a hard one.

Heartbroken, bewilderment.

Why me? Why my babies?

The questions again.

No! No! And yet again….No!!!

I can’t hurt if I keep saying no,

I kept reminding myself

It’ll hurt too much. Say no…keep saying no!

 

Years later, the regret.

Did it stop the hurt? I keep saying no.

I try, and fail, to picture faces that I never saw.

Images I’ve tried to conjure,

but they remain elusive.

Those tiny features,

the ones I chose not to see,

they won’t come to me.

Hard as I try, those visions just pass me by.

The one and only hug from a mummy

they would never know.

Deprived of that one touch, that tender moment.

But the intangible bond remains.

The love that never left me,

the tears I’ve shed alone

and the yearning goes on.

The hurt never diminished.

Maybe they will wait for me…

and my despair will be such pride

when I see my beautiful angels

and finally fold my wings around them.

A mother’s hug.

Long awaited….

© Eva Bielby 2017

I dedicate this poem to my two baby girls, born stillborn, in 1979 and 1980. They were never christened, but I will always refer to them as Paula and Lynsey. I was told that they were perfectly formed and the reason they died was because they weren’t getting the essential nourishment from the placenta. I bitterly regret choosing not to hold them and see their tiny faces, but I think at that time, the decision was the best one for me. I did go on to have a healthy son and daughter.

Eva Bielby

https://www.evabielby.co.uk

Eva Bielby was born in North Yorkshire in the Northeast of England. She has spent over thirty years of her working life as a company accountant. Eva has a keen interest in spiritualism/mediumship and has attended several workshops to develop her skills further. During her quieter moments, Eva enjoys a cryptic crossword, sudoku, and gardening.

Poetry Day 2 at #OurAuthorGang

 Enjoy a poem by Dawn Treacher

Winter Sunlight 

Snow sodden skies and a brisk bitter breeze,
make snowdrops shiver,
and fallen leaves turn crisp.
 
Heavy flakes dance and swirl,
Obliterating near and far,
under an ominous silence until nighttime falls.
 
But with the first birdsong of morning,
and the rise of the sun,
a warmth steals over the shimmering stillness.
 
It creeps between branches,
throwing spidery shadows,
painting the pastures with a peach tinted glow,
and placing blushes on the bracken.
 
In that glorious moment,
sometimes so fleeting and rare,
it can melt away our sadness,
and brighten our soul.

Dawn Treacher

www.dawntreacher.com

Dawn Treacher is based in North Yorkshire, England. She writes in both adult crime fiction and children's middle grade fantasy adventures. She is also an illustrator of children's fiction, an artist and plush artist. She runs both a writing critique group and a creative writing group and goes into schools to promote storytelling.

Poetry Day #stories4you from #OurAuthorGang

 A poem by Eva Bielby

The Door to Love and Peace

I close my eyes,

breathing deep for a while.

I visualise my door

and it appears yet again,

opening up to me.

And I…

I can feel them again.

Enveloped in their warmth,

I wait,

feeling beautiful peace.

One moves in closer.

Happy feelings,

laughter.

I recognise the one

up close to me.

Protective and

making me feel safe.

Loving.

Such overwhelming love for me.

Encouraging.

I feel strength.

He speaks

words only for me.

So subtle

yet so clear.

Words that bring peace

and happiness.

For he is happy,

in a world where hatred

does not exist.

In a world

many can’t comprehend.

In a world

where pain is not felt.

Yet I,

deep in my heart,

I know.

I know his other world.

I will return to that world

when from ours

I depart.

When my door opens

to me for the final time,

they will come for me

and guide me across their threshold.

My journey will come to an end.

The door will close behind me,

my door to love and peace.

Love and peace…

finally mine.

A beautiful new world

where exists…only love and peace.

They will wait for me…

wait for me to come home.

Infinite love

and infinite peace

wait just through my door.

Eva Bielby © July 2020

 

Eva Bielby

https://www.evabielby.co.uk

Eva Bielby was born in North Yorkshire in the Northeast of England. She has spent over thirty years of her working life as a company accountant. Eva has a keen interest in spiritualism/mediumship and has attended several workshops to develop her skills further. During her quieter moments, Eva enjoys a cryptic crossword, sudoku, and gardening.