[Soaring Feather]

Ode to Poet

Poet, you always told me you were an old man,
I never believed you.
The last time I talked to you was in June of 2003.
I led you to another poetry sight.
We talked about the differences in format there.
You told me you would need a lot of my help.
I was willing to do whatever it took to get you there.

Well, now you are gone from this place poet.
Your wonderful words we cannot read here.
You're in a far better place, poet.
You are with your master whom you loved with all your heart and soul.

This piece is not done in the superb manner you would use, poet.
The words are just bentfeather's feeble attempt to honor you and your work.

I have the little treasures you wrote to me.
They shall be returned to hold a place of honor again on my profile page.

Rest well Poet, I know you have earned a place of golden crowns.
PS Poet, I shall miss the way you called me feather.

[snippy_about_it]

In tribute to your friend feather, I'm sorry for your loss.


The Dying Christian To His Soul

VITAL spark of heav'nly flame,
Quit, oh, quit, this mortal frame!
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,
Oh, the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life!

Hark! they whisper; Angels say,
Sister Spirit, come away.
What is this absorbs me quite,
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Tell me, my Soul! can this be Death?

The world recedes; it disappears;
Heav'n opens on my eyes; my ears
With sounds seraphic ring:
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O Grave! where is thy Victory?
O Death! where is thy Sting?

Alexander Pope

[Soaring Feather]

My midnight dreams
conceived in our love
thoughts structured by
loving moments unmeasured
in winter's soft plan

My desire rendered the
landscapes pale blue
held by heart's connections forever...

bentfeather
a/k/a LMH
Copyright © 12/06/03
All Rights Reserved

[Darksheare]

I have no poetry to add that would do him justice.
So I will remain silent out of respect.