General Poetry posted February 5, 2017

This work has reached the exceptional level
Past voices calling


by irishauthorme

In dreams now they come to me,
sweet memories from my past.
Shadowy figures I recognize,
walking those dark, misty paths.

Soft voices raised in worship,
old hymns that are sung no more.
The promise of life everlasting
when I reach that distant shore.

"Come, weary traveler, rest, sleep."
but my work is not yet done.
Though my body aches and suffers,
The Spirit and I are one.

Others mock, and they wonder
how this old man keeps going.
In their youth cannot realize,
Seeds of the future I am sowing.

There's a promise I must keep,
a final, fulfilling goal.
Work that taxes my body,
A gift that soothes my soul.

Sweet voices, I must deny you,
but only for a short while.
Soon, the bells will ring for me,
When I finish that last, long mile.

Poem of the Month contest entry


Many of us who have lost most of those dear ones hear their voices in dreams, and who is to say they are not calling to us?
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by avmurray at

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