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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn  10/31/2014 3:37:45 PM
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  ALBERT AHEARN
 
 
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  117.     

A Vision

In midst of Natures bounty I espied
Aside a stream, a gilded gleaming cage.
Its tenant was a lifeless bird inside.
Engrossed in thought in view of deaths image
I deemed the death from thirst beside water.
Within the cage were dual empty basins
The one for food, and of course, the other.
It’s like a wealthy man who’s locked within
His iron safe, amid his heaps of gold.
And perishing within this house of ease
Of hunger pangs and thirst as time unfolds.
Then suddenly a strangest vision seized
My weary eyes, the cage became the bones
Of Man, the bird, his prisoned heart of stone.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  118.     

Achilles' Heel

In my armor instead he wore
Now lays dead, my friend of honor
Petroclus, Oh! The grief I bear
Cannot be wiped away like tears.
Long will I suffer his demise;
Lost forever, our mortal ties.
***************************
My lifelong friend lies before me
His emaciated body
Dressed in his “Best Mans” tuxedo
He wore so many years ago
as my best man in our wedding
bearing our golden wedding rings.
Oh! This human weakness: sorrow
What claim you, all my tomorrows?
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  119.     

Act the Part

I am an actor on this stage of life.
My role is factored into all the scenes
Beginning with an innocent delight.
My birth and babbling lines by any means
Directed all attention to this part.
A ham at birth and cute, I was a star.
The photographs and modeling apart
From some occasional fluffing thus far
I acted many roles that came my way.
Until my public image lost its lure
I found myself without a scene to play
Except the one where life shown me the door
A role I never played in my career
An empty lonely man, alone in tears.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 

   
   
 

  120.     

Ad [Verse] Sarcasm

The weatherman predicts some snow;
He calls for about three inches.
Must be great playing god, to know
How much will fall, but that’s show biz.
I know one thing: if I were wrong
As often as the weathermen
I wouldn’t have my job that long.
They screw-up time and time again
And still manage to keep working.
Imagine a neurosurgeon
Working on your head one morning
As inept as the weathermen.
Perish the thought! Some comfort though
If they call for it, it won’t snow.
 
Albert Ahearn
   
 
 
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BEST POEMS:  (Click on a topic to list and read the poems)
• angel poems
• 
beautiful poems
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death poems
• 
friend poems
• girl poems
• 
home poems
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hope poems
• 
kiss poems
• life poems
• 
loss poems
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love poems
• 
music poems
• nature poems
• 
rain poems
• 
school poems
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• soldier poems
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sun poems
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war poems
 
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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn