Departed
>> 10 November 2009
Is it the time of year?
Or why is death so near?
Leaves are falling,
the earth is calling.
The sun is not bright anymore,
rain and fog have the winning score.
The trees look faint,
there is no color to paint.
Those who are sick get weak,
prognosis seems bleak.
Leaves fall and return in spring,
people go and just leave an empty swing.
It balances with each souvenir,
of the person we have held so dear.
A moment spent happy with laughter,
never to be forgotten thereafter.
Thanks to
for prompting this poem on the theme of Departed.
6 comments:
This reads like a song or a chant, a soliloquy to the departed.
We should never forget fond memories. Your poem invokes thoughts of time and seasons changing.
Those moments are beautiful. May we know to find them. They are before us.
A guide for appreciating autumn... Thanks for sharing your "Departed."
A rhythmic tribute to the autumn, both the season and life. Nice!
@Kathiesbirds: Thanks for the compliments. It's funny how things turn out that didn't look like that at the first word.
@Loch Rob: Memories to me is what keeps far away friends nearby and dead loved ones alive.
@Sandy Carlson: They are indeed. Every day, little things which we should be grateful for. They make life so much better and more beautiful.
@Carlos Gesmundo: You are welcome. Thanks for stopping by.
@Tumblewords: I always thought seasons resembled life a lot. Thanks.
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