Sandi Alford

Book Of Life - Poem by Sandi Alford

In this book of life we’re given at birth
Its pages blank, awaits verses of worth
Experiences drip upon every page displayed
Love, is but a word conveyed

Lessons learned and lessons taught
The ink of fate swirls words of thought
Hopes and dreams throughout life’s parade
Love, is but a word conveyed

Pages flow from chapter to next
Haphazardly categorized, arbitrarily indexed
And as each chapter becomes worn and frayed
Love, is but a word conveyed

Comments about Book Of Life by Sandi Alford

  • Akella S.ratnam (5/24/2009 4:29:00 PM)

    I like the poem and wish readers to read it with the following poem.:

    Book of Life

    The book published when the costs were low
    A child born of a happy wedding.
    It was a cheap paperback edition
    Third in the line preceding two more.
    Title page neat, handy with pleasing appearance
    Healthy, active, sober and modest.
    A run-of-the mill social novel sans sensational passages
    Cultured, devoid of violence and vulgarity.
    Printing indifferent pages dog-eared and blurred
    Uncared for, yet doggedly pursued reading hard.
    Theme gripping movement slow but steady.
    Crossing sixty encounters road blocks insurmountable.
    When anxious to reach the happy ending
    Speed breakers emerge off-spring accusing obstruct passage.
    Readers baffled, perhaps author perplexed (bungled)
    Unable to close the narrative finds unnatural ending inauspicious.
    The style and language dissipate grip loosens
    Wavering, the author blamed for erratic writing.
    Oh! book! ending lost in torn pages
    Life ends without the knowledge of what happens to its creation.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, October 6, 2008

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