PAST THE GARDEN GATE
pappa called me from L.A.
one day late July
it was 3A.M. pacific time
it was 4 A.M. when he died
mamma passed one winter day
I was by her side
she kissed my hand
to say good-bye
my mind cannot understand
beyond what it can measure
time has stolen the years
and I count my moments in memory and tears
I want to go home again
past the garden gate
through the side door
and hold someone I loved
once more.
Comments
Dear Joe,
*tears*
A fine poem. I liked it all!
always, Cat
:)
:)
Oh my.
I would very much like to offer biting criticism to the purpose of improving the poem. I would like to "fix" the meter, change the rhyme. Help you to somehow broach the subject more eloquently.
I cannot.
It is beyond my meager skills.
A very powerful poem.
wesley
Good piece Joe!
emotive, but sincere! I think we all have a similar gate that we'ld like to go through someday!
Cheers
Bonitaj