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The Sigh

the struggle done
raining clouds above
shes said goodbye
with weary ears
and straining heart
the yard has come
its line to be done
with one final sigh
shes free
we cling
with teary eye
beloved friend
held on so long
your freedom
served
arrived
and done

and your return
for duties served
a cherry box
a home
deserved

to mask the stretch
of cold and pain
the sun returns
to warm
again
seems unjust unfair
the heartaches wrench
as spring arrives
to mark the bench
erase our prints
of where we walked
in mud and strain
our joy
now pain

yet life returns like
spring like green
to battles scarred
and cares renewed
a new love found
to join our brood

and if we think
that death is rest
and final end
the one last breath
at least the life
of love thats lost
lives on in us
that lives and walks
and in the spirit
of exchange
that not replaces
but only gains
memory lives
of those remembered
then
for those who
feel the threshold
of the waves
that fall upon the
endless beach
like grains of sand
and precious
shells
while we be carried
in the hearts
when we too
take our time
and felled
by mortal hand
to rest upon
immensities
stand....

(written for the one dog we all loved
and for those two leggeds whom
I never grieved...and those too
whom await at the door of perceptions
axiom...and for our new puppy who
needed a home...the bridge abutements
that perilous load and view the magic
of the tranverse...Belief...)

Editing stage: 

Comments

i avoided my father the last years of his life..though he loved me
dearly....he knew his other son better...he feared me
my rapacious mind with quarellsome best...a quilt and shame
which haunts me to its eternal test.....I was selfish preserving
me...the ego which protects and like a wolf pack owns its keep
are dogs cheap? what is the cost of Love
What are the rules of the pack?
how close to the blast do we know
the suffer of those burns
tawdry dreary theorem
I have climbed
for I was not the apple of any eye
but I have Loved
and was Loved
and I have Lost

am I to say I am better?
for I feel lesser

i prattle and rattle
its been a tough spring
many have leaned upon me
upon whom I lean
yet I do what I can
ideal...principle
and in the end
because Im
human I feel I fail
which is
et tu
humane

i need rest
...
thank you
for listening
...

author comment

faithful friends, our dogs. I had the same emotions myself after having to put a dog down. I couldn't bear seeing him have the seizures and knew that he suffered, so it was a kindness, but it hurt.
I wrote a poem about him and as a matter of fact, it was the first poem that I posted here on Neo.

Rugby! No... I am Lobo the winter wolf
Sitting in the yard, cold wind whipping flakes of snow through my fur

Rugby! No,,, I am the shadow under your feet
as you shine on my universe

Rugby! No... I am the Protector, always on guard
against anything that comes between us

Rugby! No... I am the stomach, part of your digestive system
your dinner, supper companion

Rugby! No...I am the doorman, tongue hanging out
like a hand, where is my tip? My Beggin' Treat?

Rugby! Daddy is home, where are you? ..
I am in your heart, forever and always...

I cried for him more than I cried for the loss of some of my human friends.
I cry now...
Thank you for a great tribute to a wonderful friend and family member. ~ Gee.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

to have them come into our lives knowing they will last only a short time. I look at my dog and know he will be gone before I know it.
I miss Kluso.
I miss Imbwa. We worked and showed obedience. In our first year of showing novice we were ninth in the nation. How I miss that accomplishment. How I miss him.
Gris is young now, but will not be for long. How I wish I never had a dog and yet I cannot do without them.
How odd.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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About the comment on Fathers day..
A great write that has told us of things from your depth, the longing and regrets of many past years.
That you feel there is no one to talk with is hard, I suppose this means you have cloaked yourself in self for a while, have you forgotten us here in this wide world, there are multitudes of us out here and most have a vast experience of just life.
It is hard to see you drift away even for a while.
I have seen 70 of your pieces on Neopoet that have not been commented on, it is bad, or does it mean that your work is read, and doesn't need correction, it feels better when that choice is taken.
Know my friend that your works are highly thought of and I for one want to read more.
Take care out there in the open wilds, know that we can run with the Wolf, and even he doesn't see us..
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

Hope this reaches you wherever you are. Dogs - unconditional love, if you keep feeding them. If you starve them, they can turn on you. Lost a couple recently myself. I haven't been around NP for a while, which I will make no apologies for, as you never have to do. I'm in the middle of a transition, currently writing beneath the rattling tin of an old oast house, come apple shed, somewhere in remote Tasmania - via a wobbly 4g connection. Still writing, hope you are mate, because i loved this, very moving.

Cheers.

Chris.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

Thank you for all the words, all the conversations, all the stories. Your story will continue. Journey on my friend. No words to express how much you'll be missed.

Tears from Tasmania - you were a one in a million.

Chris.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

There will never be another Esker. You were an inspiration to so many here. I sit here gutted at the news of your passing. May you rest in peace wherever you are tonight. I haven't just lost my favourite poet, I've also lost my friend. The demons that dogged your steps are gone now you can laydown in a fabric brushed heaven knowing you left us all the better for knowing you and we will embrace your poetry. In this gift of words you live on. Know you are missed and most definately loved.

Sigh I'll be back to read you, until we meet again..

J x

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

YOU
and
YOUR POETRY
will surely be missed
But twill
SHINE

Glad we walked together this pathway

I too shall follow you
(soonly)
some day
TILL then let Peace
enlighten your way
Lovedly does say

there are tears. I know that you would say; " Do not cry for me, my brother, I am free of this life and it's troubles." The tears are not for you, but the loss of you to this world, my world. I've re-read the poem and the comments and again, I feel the loss of my dog and of yours. You had such elegance in your writing, yet so much raw power. I took many lessons from your works and I shall always be grateful for your friendship and tutelage. Thank you brother Wolf. ~ Gee.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

of the most open and imaginative voices on this site. A shame.

I know that you can now read all of us and our truth,
This was the last of your writes and it tells a story true,
Now as you journey on my friend, know that we will call your name in that great beyond.
There you will be honoured just let them know we are coming one day, Love you my friend and God's speed.
Yours as always, Ian. T . Howard

.
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 by far one of the most intense individuals and greatest talents I have ever had the pleasure to get to know. You will be deeply missed.

Keep Writing,
Carrie

"Quoth said the Raven, NEVERMORE"

From Joe Geremia

Steven, you left us too soon but now you know what it's all about. I don't know if there's an afterlife but I hope there's a place where you have found peace.

Soon to follow,
Joe

(Note: Joe asked that I post for him.)

Words flow on and on turning our thoughts inside out.
You are now in that place we all will be and as there is no time we just have a short eternity,
We love you Brother please watch over us as we crawl the Earth, Yours as always Ian, Sparrow and Yenti

.
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

Marvellously put across...MOSTLY we all are followers
I used to vomit pages of poetry.... till they curbed me... as mine was trash... I went elsewhere... now I must thank the ones here... as I am being read ... so much paper will be needed... to cover me when dead ....and all will be printed poetry... as some had said ...’’’’ friend do write on you can please none but history will tell when you are actually dead ...’’’’‘’this was the poet alive since long .....’’’so was Shakespeare ...he did not fear ....and I am a secluded bard....who is surpassed... but do I damn care...

when guys like you... better than most are surpassed ...

I am nothing but well ---------add adjectives replete.... with no one here do I compete ...dear Esker

I always found you to be one of the most generous and empathetic voices on this site. Certainly not "trash" - I always read, I didn't feel the need to comment. It's good that you remember Esker. I have missed him too xx

Chris.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

I was abused by my original dad when I was two and that’s what made me have this shunt.

Hlm life without literature is a life without logic.

Read Esker. That's all. Just read. No more need be said...

That's the problem with poets who fill their works with timelessness and beauty-
For then the gods, in wonder,
take them from us,
to recite their words of perfect beauty
in the halls of astonished heaven.
So long man, see you on the other side.

Respectfully, Race

"Laws and Rules don't kill freedom: narrow-minded intolerance does" - Race-9togo

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Race_9togo

Good poets are never forgotten they are like treasure for a while hidden just SIGH

you are so right. thanks for this.

*hugs, Cat

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

and u alone are the best supporter as is Gee in enthusing me

you honor me. you Gee and me, now that is good company!

*hugs, Cat

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

you honor me.
you Gee and me,
now that is
really good company!
keep posting poemy
NEOME

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