No death bell tolled awaking me
to a medieval Danse Macabre
No Reaper's grip on steely scythe
was swung across the morning sky.
No sands of time, no hourglass
no vultures looming overhead
no mourning mass, or dirge was sung
no candle snuffed out by my bed.
But as I rose to meet the dawn
I knew the end, at last, had come,
and then I dressed and went to work.
just the same as I'd always done.
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Comments
1 - 14 of 14
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Thank you oh YES!
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Not sure what I like better, the little dancing men or the kitties.
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Here is the link to Poetry Planet and your deluxe poem, good Yem.
lol http://blogcentral.thereporter.com/planet/
Thank you and here's a gift: Also: 
YUM!
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Wow that was fast! It looks cool. I'm famous now Thanks!
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Oh please oh please oh please please please
Would you pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese allow me to post this very clever and smiling poem onto the poetry blog I run for a newspaper in California? It is Poetry Planet and I am blog master. 
Your name a copyright would go on the poem and you would get ... oh so many readers... maybe even a hundred or two hundred or somethin' like that. 
Melodies
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Cool! Of course, thanks!
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and I had mourned till I was through
and though I still care much for you
the day is passed when I will sleep
and let you from my journey keep
these feet that once followed your beck and call.
I am still living, after all…
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Your poem reminds me of the poetry of Edgar A. Guest and that's good because I know some of his poems by heart. I absolutely love this poem.
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The end is often hard to grapple with, hard to be honest about, but there is truth in these lines. There is a change in focus, I think. And the difference comes not from circumstance, as we so often expect, but rather from attitude and perspective.
I like the way the date-title gives that singular sense, a once and for all kind of thing. Perhaps like a mile marker, or a time-post for a historic event. It becomes the speaker's 1066, his 9/11 or on a more positive note, his 1492--since the truth will make him free. So, I thought it was pretty clever to use the date as the title.
Anyway this poem could be read by so many people to address so many situations. I love it when poetry is widely applicable like that!
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When the show must go on, the show must go on.
Another very good poem!
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Thank you madam. The show does go on...I am a clown after all.
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Revelation on the page
frees the heart from its cage,
moves it forward as if by rote,
on this a day of particular note.
The poetic voice does not rejoice,
speaks eloquently by choice.
While in Spain, the rain
may be upon the plain,
but in the State of Mayne
there lies still the pain.
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Closure arrives without fanfare or symbols but we can sense when it is finally complete. Nothing physically changes when the cycle has run its course.
There's still a sadness in that...a slight lingering of loss.
Vivid imagry for me. I truly like your poetic voice.
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I couldn't add a thing to your comment. It was perfect. Go do the thing.
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