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Terry Wiens Poems
The Spiritual Warrior
I sit here quietly under the dark night skies, My face is warmed by the tears from my eyes, The glitter of stars so distant and cold, Not unlike the love I would hold,
Your Own Worst Enemy
You wake up in tears, to begin your day, You already know, a rough one’s on the way. People see you as happy, people see you as strong,
A Parent's Love
I’ve had me many lovers, I’ve even loved a few, Regardless of my feelings, I knew what I could do.
The Conflict of Nature
The warmth of the sun on the cold mountain snow, A conflict created through which new life will grow, This is the way of this place we call earth, Seasonal affects to give the world worth.
Till Death We Do Part
For sixty years they had been wed, In thirteen seconds they would be dead, She is frail and oh so ill, But to live without her he has no will.
That light that shines so brightly Behind my path of life, Comes from the son I held so dearly, At his birth time with my wife.
Our Travelled Road
We grew up believing we can turn around, Based on the path that travels the ground, But the path of life is a one way street, And we must deal with the souls we meet.
Friends and Self
Our life has many ups and downs, We question why we’re here, But deep inside we know ourselves, Loss of friends is what we fear.
She lives in my soul and travels my mind, My heart she does own and my love she does bind, Her touch can be gentle, her words can be kind. How luck has been with me to have this rare find.
As we progress along the road of life, The mist becomes much thicker, Those little things that cause us strife, Loved ones with whom we bicker.
Let It Come
Lying alone in your solitary bed, The arrival of death you do not dread, You’ve lived a long and compassionate life, Helping those who were experiencing strife,
The calmness flows, My soul expands, To grow from soil untouched, That hidden self,
The fog rolls in across the sea, Across the land a shroud to be, Blocking out the starry night, Across the earth a starving blight.
The melodic voice I held so dear, The tender words that I could hear, The soft angelic sounds she spoke, The whispered sweetness when I woke.
Comments about Terry Wiens
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
The Spiritual Warrior
I sit here quietly under the dark night skies,
My face is warmed by the tears from my eyes,
The glitter of stars so distant and cold,
Not unlike the love I would hold,
The night air around me is crisp and clean,
The irony of love to my soul is so mean.
I must be strong I am always told,
I’ll use up my strength before I get old,
The source of my strength is fed by love,
But how do you eat the wings of a dove,
They are beyond my reach and one of a kind,
The essence of love is so hard to find.
The food of love to strength is sweet,