Lynn W. Petty

Gold Star - 5,241 Points (3/29/28 / Newport Beach, California)

Lynn W. Petty Poems

81. A Song In A Plaintive Minor Key 1/7/2017
82. An Old Man's Prayer, Who Asks Why Not He. 1/7/2017
83. A Madonna In Pain 1/7/2017
84. Cancer's Enmity For Mankind 1/11/2017
85. A Bon Vivant 1/11/2017
86. I Bid Farewell To Night 1/13/2017
87. When We Were Young 1/15/2017
88. Eight Long Years 1/15/2017
89. Age 2/5/2016
90. What Would I Say? 9/22/2017
91. No Monarch, She 1/24/2016
92. The Force Of His Words 2/5/2016
93. The Front Fence Gate 1/15/2017
94. Splendor 1/18/2017
95. Our Twin Granddaughters 1/20/2017
96. A Mental Abyss 6/2/2017
97. But For A Child's Smile 1/14/2017
98. Brass Rings 2/2/2016
99. My Son 2/2/2016
100. Every Day A New Mourning 1/26/2016
101. Beneath A 2000 Year Old Mississippi Oak Tree 1/29/2016
102. Two Gifts Has Man 1/29/2016
103. Aunt Larura's Tin Abode 2/21/2016
104. Independence, California (Fishing!) 2/22/2016
105. It Was Only Yesterday 1/25/2016
106. The Last Summer 1/24/2016
107. A Glint Of Gold 1/21/2016
108. Appalled 1/21/2016
109. To Learn, To Know, To Heal, To Grow 1/22/2016
110. A Writer's Block 1/20/2016
111. Madonna On The Amtrak 1/18/2016
112. An Old Bookstore 1/19/2016
113. The Magic Of Our Swing 1/20/2016
114. The Evolution Of Belief 1/13/2016
115. To Ponder 1/15/2016
116. The Song Of Nature 1/10/2016
117. His Crossing 1/16/2016
118. Beauty 1/8/2016
119. Thinking 1/8/2016
120. A Friend 1/8/2016

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Best Poem of Lynn W. Petty

A Question Of My Own Mortality

Time seemed interminable.
A curious and inexplicable apprehension came over me,
As I sat in an elderly care home waiting to visit a friend.
The atmosphere was heavy with quiet confusion.
People wandered about searching and shifting in a
Sort of stolid acquiescence. Their lives recalled as flashes in memory, projecting film images on their thick, gray screen of dementia.
Across from me sat an elderly gentleman whose gaze was a glassy
Expression of inattention. I could see the declinations of his skull
Beneath his facial features. A victim of the grievous ...

Read the full of A Question Of My Own Mortality

Verses Of The Sikh Gurus

I closed the cover of a book, just read;
A book of poetry, whose thoughts had touched
The sanctum sanctorum of my being.
I sat in silence pondering the depth
To which the sense of my awareness had
Been moved. I weighed the immemorial
Message of each word, whose meanings had been
Divinely etched upon the copper plate
Of thought. I floated in a dim of light

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