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Best Poems From
LAURENCE OVERMIRE
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41.
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A Prayer for the Dying
Every day admit me
Please
Into the portal of the
Divine
Allow me to feel
The sublime majesty of life
To know
The sanctity of relationship
To touch
The beauty of Earth
Breathe into this poor undeserving frame
An immortal telling
A lasting consequence
Give me the power
To see
To believe
To dream
Forever.
(Previously published in Poetry Soul To Soul, Dec.2000)
Laurence Overmire
Read more: believe poems, power poems, beauty poems, dream poems, life poems
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42.
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a quiet tear
a tear trickles down the side of a face
haphazardly
not knowing why it was shed
skirting across the cheek
it hangs on the lip for one last precarious moment
watery fingers clinging to beloved flesh
till strength gives way
a precipitate falling to the floor
quietly
without notice or distinction
disappearing into the dark warmth of the wood
no vestige of joy or pain
to mark its passing.
(Previously published in Kookamonga Square, July 2000; The Poet's Porch, Feb.2002)
Laurence Overmire
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43.
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A Rainbow Has Blue In It
She had to live in a world with lots of bright colors
Yellows and oranges and rosy pinks
Where everyone smiled and said
Hello, how are you today?
Just fine, thank you. And you?
Oh, couldnt be better.
In her world, it never rained.
There werent even any clouds.
Winter was banned, and summer was always moderately cool.
People didnt sweat or smell or say
Bad words.
Life was just peachy.
On the day of her funeral, there was a terrible thunderstorm.
Several tornadoes touched down and blew away
The pink and yellow flowers and
A big tree was ripped out by the roots and
Fell right on top of her casket.
But then the sun came out.
Birds were singing.
And people say they even heard her son and daughter
Laugh out loud
For the first time in years.
(Previously published in uXu, Dec.30,1999, #35)
Laurence Overmire
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44.
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A Solitary Confinement
So few people understand
Or even care
The connection that holds us
Together
More tenuous than real
Perhaps then, my greatest strength
Lies within and not
Without
The tending of my own
Misfortune
A matter of dressing my own
Wounds
I need not ask for anything more
All that was needed
Was long ago given, and only now
Do I
See, and whats more, feel
The full measure of my
Advantage.
(Previously published in Poetry Soul to Soul, Nov.2005)
Laurence Overmire
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