Wayne Bowen Poems
- Tribute The old country preacher stood to speak, his broken...
- Past Vs. Future Thinking of the past or looking at the ...
- There Are No Tears In Heaven When our loved ones leave this ...
- A Penny's Worth A single penny on the ground, many chances ...
- My Father's House When we leave this world behind us we'll ...
- The Problem In desperation I turn to my own thoughts and ...
- What Can I Do I've walked the rocky roads of life with peaks...
Born in Florida, currently divide time between south Florida and the north Georgia mountains. I enjoy writing poems and song lyrics. I also like to read other poetry. My style is simple, straight forward and easy to understand. I hope you enjoy my poems. more »
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Comments about Wayne Bowen
The old country preacher stood to speak,
his broken voice sounding weak.
The worn, black bible in his hand
placed on the wooden pulpit stand.
Eyes of tears scan the faithful few,
friends and family in wooden pews.
The only sounds a cough or sneeze,
and blue jays calling in the trees.
Paper fans move to and fro while
impatient children beg to go.
All dressed in their Sunday best
here to lay their own to rest.
Flowing tears for memories past,
honor a life that did not last.
All good memories, nothing bad
a broken family all are sad.
Words of ...