1. The Hands Of A Warrior
in Aging Poems
Purple veins strain against the skin.
Pale, translucent, paper thin.
Skinny fingers clawed in monstrous shapes,
Brown spots from years that she can't erase.
Published: September 2019
It's just the different moods I'm in
in Aging Poems
Purple veins strain against the skin.
Pale, translucent, paper thin.
Skinny fingers clawed in monstrous shapes,
Brown spots from years that she can't erase.
Dear Angie,
I should have responded much sooner to your beautiful comment about my poem. I am so thrilled that you could completely relate to my words and then share them with others to help...
in Aging Poems
Many, many years ago
When I was just a kid,
And I had just began to grow,
There's stuff I had and did.
Ah, blissful childhood memories. Raised in a rural community, most relatives and friends lived on farms. Being a town kid, homemade fried chicken dinners in an oversized farm kitchen, that...
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in Aging Poems
A gray old woman sits all alone,
Unloved, uncherished, and unknown.
Sitting beside her broken door,
Dreaming of days passed long ago,
In March 2022, I was diagnosed with Renal cancer. I'm doing fine following up with my CTs. My kids' dad was diagnosed with hepatic cancer, lung, the works, and passed away in March. My (our)...
in Aging Poems
I realize I've reached the time
When it's very plain to see
That I now must be selective
In what my preferences will be.
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in Aging Poems
A little old lady, I do not mind being.
What I find I don't like are the changes I'm seeing.
My marbles are still rolling in the right direction.
I enjoy this old world, though it has imperfections.
I enjoyed your poem. I certainly know where you're coming from. When it comes to tech, I'm not tech-savvy either. It seems like every time you get things down pat, they change the whole...
in Aging Poems
She's sitting in a rocking chair.
She's peeking out the window,
looking at the children playing, remembering her own.
This poem made me cry, which to me, the mark of a good poem is if it evokes a deep feeling. I feel so very sad for this woman, and your words cut to the very core of her feelings of loss,...
in Aging Poems
Arthritis makes my fingers swell.
My bathroom visits really smell.
When I find it hard to sleep,
I remember math, to count my sheep.
in Aging Poems
She sits in darkness
memories serve as her only company
a life so full of joy
now ending in lonesome misery.
Reading this made me think of my grandma. She passed away in 2005 due to gallbladder cancer. I took care of her at home with help from VNA hospice...while she was alive family didn't bother...
in Aging Poems
His shoulders are a little slumped now and his back a little bent.
But to me he looks like he was heaven sent.
His blue eyes may have glasses to see
in Aging Poems
Back in the day, when my body was fit,
I ate what I liked and gained not a bit.
After a while, the pounds slowly grew,
But I lost them fast; it was easy to do.
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