Poem after the death of your wife

by DENNIS AMBROSE
(VINELAND N.J. USA)

THE PRAYER BALLOON

I miss the days we were together,
the joy and laughter of that time.
Now the seasons move a little slower,
yet still the memories remain behind.

You deserve all the beauty heaven has to offer.
When my time comes we'll meet again for a better day.
Nothing dies with the passing of time.
Love continues beyond the grave.

God gave us this gift.

tags: poem after the death of your wife, spouse, husband, poem from a grieving husband, to read at a funeral, loved one, bereavement, love after death

Edits in this poem await the approval of the poet.

Poem about loss of a wife spiritual

by Glenn Johnson
(Tucson, Arizona, USA)

GRACEFUL DEATH

Lovingly and true
You asked I not cry
You were not gone
Only with Creator one.

In mind
your request
appreciated and understood.
In heart
a request difficult to keep
grief has raged and will not sleep.

Time and again
grief denied
opens despairs deepest pit.

Time and again
grief calls me to prayer
Creator's healing grace I beseech.

This I know
I miss you:
When a beautiful sunset
Your birthday
When holidays
Your photograph
When I repair our home
Your scent on a blouse
When a mother holds a child
Your favorite song
When a couple holds hands
Your place waits on your side of the bed.

This has consoled me:
I will join you with Creator
Creator's healing grace ever present
Need only ask
Grace I will receive
Creator never stingy with grace
Question only: How much I will accept.

I do not like grief
I wish it gone
Although
Truth be told
This lesson has taught:
How to prepare a graceful death.
tags: spiritual poem about death, grief, loss of a loved one, loss of a wife, poetry

Note from Katherine T Owen
Sadly, this webpage does not allow for the formatting to be in line with the poet's original submission.

Poetry about death

by Glenn Johnson
(Tucson, Arizona)

MEMORIES

Gone. . .
No time to say farewell . . .
Why?
A cruel twist of fate?
The fulfillment of fate?
Remember … No one knows the hour or the day . . .
No one knows the hour or the day.
Who’s to say? . . . Too early? . . . Too late? . . . Who’s too say?

Questions like stones dropped in the deepest ocean . . .
Questions ripples across the endless ocean of time and space . . .
Countless ripples of voices seeking the solace of the answer why.
Remember . . . No one knows the hour or the day.
No one knows the hour or the day.

Stones’ ripples on the surface spread . . . ever widening circles . . .
Beneath . . .
Memories . . . no questions asked.
An ocean of memories deep as the heart can reach . . .
Acceptance and faith in the ocean of memories descends . . .
Beneath . . . Memories . . . no questions asked.
An ocean of memories deep as the heart can reach . . .
Acceptance and faith in the ocean of memories descends.
Deeper . . .

Deeper . . .

Deeper . . .
Where the soul can bathe . . . within the deep ocean memory of the one forever loved.
In the deep . . . Until the day . . . the ocean never to return.
Deep . . .

Deep . . .

Deep . . .
Finally, memory’s knowing no shoreline of the heart.
The Creator’s Eternal Love with our loved ones forever be.

© Glenn Johnson

Move from Poetry About Death to an article on Jesus Letting Go Of The Ego

Tags: poetry about death, poems, spiritual, love, why

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