Biographical Poetry posted July 18, 2010 Chapters: -1- 2... 


Exceptional
This work has reached the exceptional level
A story, all too often repeated

A chapter in the book Surviving Silent Storms

One

by Warren Rodgers

Poem of the Month Contest Winner 

In Memory of My Loving Wife Bev, whose love will remain in our hearts forever.

On one quiet street, in one sleepy town
Where neighbors are friends and children abound
One ragged pillow, another pristine
Lie on the bed in the house of her dreams

One side lays empty, deserted, unclaimed
Waiting the woman portrayed in the frame
One old alarm clock in silent display
Holds to the hope that she’ll come home today   

One book of poetry waits on her chair
One of her brushes still clings to her hair
One ray of sunlight streams through the gloom
Past the pink ribbons adorning this tomb

Once dreams and passion were shared in this place
Now they've grown colder without her embrace
Once this old room was the refuge they'd share
Now- just four walls with a bed and a chair

One couple working to make a new life  
Honoring vows between husband and wife
One day she found a small lump in her breast
Fighting for life, she survived and felt blest  

One decade later the heavens fell down
One cell of cancer was once again found 
One daughter, one sister, one mother, one wife
were lost in the woman I married for life

Never again can I touch her soft skin -
Hear her sweet laughter as each day begins.
Now in the darkness, I long to know why
One woman so brave and so loved had to die?


Two parents, four sisters, two children, one spouse
Still cherish one woman whose love filled this house
On one quiet street, in one sleepy town
Where neighbors are friends and children  abound

Another young woman has once again found...



 


Poem of the Month
Contest Winner

Recognized


Simply put, this is the story of my wife who died in 2006 from breast cancer. How many more "Ones" have to suffer and die before we rid the planet of this scourge? It is a story that is much too common in today's world. I pray for the day when this poem becomes a relic of the past.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


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