Memory Poems

The memory of you emerges from the night around me.
The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea.
...

How great my grief, my joys how few,
Since first it was my fate to know thee!
- Have the slow years not brought to view
How great my grief, my joys how few,
...

A poem should be palpable and mute
As a globed fruit

Dumb
...

Farewell to thee! but not farewell
To all my fondest thoughts of thee:
Within my heart they still shall dwell;
And they shall cheer and comfort me.
...

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
...

Roses ruddy and roses white,
What are the joys that my heart discloses?
Sitting alone in the fading light
Memories come to me here tonight
...

I

I have lived with shades so long,
And talked to them so oft,
...

Got up on a cool morning. Leaned out a window.
No cloud, no wind. Air that flowers held
for awhile. Some dove somewhere.
...

Inscribed to a Dear Child:
In Memory of Golden Summer Hours
And Whispers of a Summer Sea
...

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory;
...

Blame me for everything,
Spare me for nothing,
I left behind special thing,
My memory to miss something,
...

O Merlin in your crystal cave
Deep in the diamond of the day,
Will there ever be a singer
Whose music will smooth away
...

A weathered skeleton
in windy fields of memory,
piercing like a knife
...

I'm drawing a circle,
Which is concentrically diminishing,
With each gliding of the pencil on the paper,
Until it becomes a spiral.
...

And you, my friends who have been called away,
I have been spared to mourn for you and weep,
Not as a frozen willow over your memory,
...

No days such honored days as these! While yet
Fair Aphrodite reigned, men seeking wide
For some fair thing which should forever bide
On earth, her beauteous memory to set
...

When the rose is faded,
Memory may still dwell on
Her beauty shadowed,
And the sweet smell gone.
...

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
...

Memory of sun seeps from the heart.
Grass grows yellower.
Faintly if at all the early snowflakes
Hover, hover.
...

The gloom that breathes upon me with these airs
Is like the drops which stike the traveller's brow
Who knows not, darkling, if they bring him now
Fresh storm, or be old rain the covert bears.
...

In my own remembering,
I can see so many things.
Days of bliss were much too brief.
Longer nights of pain and grief.
...

Ever since you left me without the moon, your memory is shining.
...

Very strange is the relation between memory and loneliness
Both are inter-related and inseparable while alive in life

Had there been no memory what would have happened to loneliness
...

I love swimming in the lake of my memories…closing my eyes and diving in headfirst…and bringing with me to the surface…memories submersed.

Take yesterday for instance…I dove in on a whim…and ended up, of all places, where memories of our granddaughter swim.
...

RELATION WITH MEMORY

The things we forget becomes theproperty of memory
Relation between memory and lonelinessis very deep
...

Her first memory of her father…though she doesn't know the year
was when he tucked her into bed one night and whispered ‘I love you' in her ear.

From then it didn't matter if he read her a Fairy Tale or helped her wipe away a tear
...

Have you ever wondered once a memory is made if anyone really knows
where that memory ends up…where that memory goes?

Does it flow into our brain?Is that where memories start?
...

A reminder changes your brain.
Every brain should have a mind that may need a reminder.
The memory washes, rinses, and dries your brain.
Imagery from it typically reveals an exaggeration of your past experience.
...

A memory from deep recesses of my mind crept
Meandering, probing, seething
In deep shafts of wrath swept
From crevices where the memory for too long held prisoner wept
...

A memory is just what you are,
You are someone from My past.

Someone who I used to know very well
...