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remembrance beautiful poetry

The wind alone
will always whistle
the way it used to do
when you were with me
along the blowing wind
simply whistling
we two

No one like me
will ever love you
now, you have no clue
ingrain my name
on the gifted stone
pay later in heaven
all will need
more love here too
a vaster wilderness

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

I'm grateful that I live in America where there is freedom in the land.
Very good piece and authentic quality.

Mario Vitale

I have read you before
you are so kind

author comment

this is an especially soul-stirring piece...I love it's quiet reflective undertone.

love, Cat

*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

cats
now I am becoming a serious poet
as I stand at the edge of a cliff
any day twill be over
in a whiff

author comment

I think it is good if you can be serious at times but don't lose that funny side. We all need to have a variety in our write, At least, that's what I believe.

Alid

I loved this piece,.The imagery is vivid. Well written. Thanks for sharing

Alid

alidz

author comment

I want to praise you for your work & effort.
It must have taken a while to come up with such a credible piece.
Light & Love
Mario Vitale

Mario Vitale

gives me the incentive to die
a stone of white marble do install
with a luminous plate
here lies the
POET
called
Loved

author comment

Ingrained in memories minds we drift,
There in a breath of wind we hold,
Then feelings are dashed into shards
Then in the new sunlight they glisten
A spinning chandelier of love held
A voice whispers we are home again

Good write young Bard I knew you could and I am seldom wrong.
Whisper your feelings they will be heard,
Even in the greatest noise of this world.
Yours Ian..

.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

you are the only wine

red nor white
but the purest form
one of fresh wine
which inspires
ere,
even before it turns to wine
you make me shine
in all your glory
you have to tell this world
many a story
of why we become poets here
Ian you say it loud without any fear
none will dare you spear

i am a poet but queer

treat this as a draft
poetic compliment
I now post also

author comment

composed long long ago
many have glossed
quite a few have praised
I Thank them

author comment
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