To My Wife on Our Anniversary
A simple little poem written for my wife on our anniversary
A simple little poem to say I Love you more and more each passing day.
A simple little poem written with paper and pen
A simple little poem to say I love you forever and ever Amen
poem by Jim Milks
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The Call of Silence
I hear the silence beckoning to me again
Calling to me like an old friend
Calling me to the silence of the grave
Calling me back to the silence, I crave.
Beckoning me from my pleasant dream
Beckoning me back to a world enseamed.
The thundering call of silence
Pulls me back to my innocence
JPM 1/2/2008
poem by Jim Milks
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Advise
“Never make your Hobby your job”
My father once did advise
For if you do what stirs your soul
And rules your passions dies
Sound advice from a man that knew
A man that took his passion and made it his job
And bid his passion adieu
“Never Make your Hobby your Job”
Advice I took to heart
My passion and I shall never part
poem by Jim Milks
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Dad A life
My father is gone, gone to his grave
Carried away on an amber wave
It was his heart they say so strong, so brave
A heart that was crushed beneath an amber wave
My father is gone, gone in a flash
Washed away on an amber wave
The strong young man he was burned to ash
Ash that was washed away by an amber wave
My father is gone, gone this day
Taken away on an amber wave
Leaving nothing but heart ache and dismay
poem by Jim Milks
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In remembrance of a friend…
Another anniversary, birthday or just a day
celebrated with an empty chair
And a silent tear shed
For those no longer there
Be they brother, lover or just a friend
Their memory lives on with every story told
And every tear dropp shed
So dry your tears and hold your head with pride
Even though the hurt you feel so deep inside
My never end, It will soften with time
And the comfort of a friend
JPM © 1/6/10
poem by Jim Milks
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The summer day
On the deck I stand on fine summer day
A drink in my hand, a time to reflect
And sound of children at play upon the wind
The soft and gentle buzzing of a lawn mower,
the smell of fresh cut grass assail my senses.
The beauty of the day breaks down my defenses
And the laughter of children at play
The hot sun upon my shoulder, the water
dripping of my cold drink.
Take me back to my youth back in time I think
And joy of children at play
poem by Jim Milks
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What is a Grandfather?
What is a Grandfather?
A Friend, a confidant, and a mentor
That is what a Grandfather is.
Call him Grandfather, Grandpa, or even Pappy.
Just a thought of him and your heart is happy
A kindly face and snow-white hair
In his gentle eyes there is no disappointment
There is no despair
A whisper, a smile and secrets to share
A bond that is beyond compare
Fishing poles and bedtime stories.
Dressing as Santa, or even the Easter bunny
Hidden pockets full of money
JPM 1/21/2008
poem by Jim Milks
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A short Ode to Edgar Allen Poe
OH Edgar my friend,
my morose brother
Thine rhyme doth touch the heart like no other
with your quick and wily pen;
What hurts were you trying to mend
Loneliness was your domain
A broken hearted lover
Forever pining in vain
Isolation, lose and pain
And joys so high
With them you can reach the sky
On this one thought I shall ponder evermore
“What fate befell the lovely Lenore? ”
Edgar, Dear Edgar
A life of turmoil spilled across countless pages
Your sorrows, a gift to the ages
poem by Jim Milks
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At the gathering of the flowers
At the gathering of the flowers
Someone waits with the rising sun
There in the wee small hours
That is where love has begun
And there with the angels above
At the gathering of the flowers
To her I do profess my love
With her I will spend all my remaining hours
Where love empowers
Is where I will meet my love
At the gathering of the flowers
With desires undreamt of
Winter winds howl about my face
But the cold shall forever cower
From your warm embrace
At the gathering of the flowers
[...] Read more
poem by Jim Milks
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Childhood is calling
Come on people move
For childhood is calling
time to get up and groove
there is no time for stalling
Enjoy the warm sunny day
and chase all of your blues away
this is a day that is so enthralling
listen, as your childhood is calling
old men sit and are soon recalling
and slowly as their hair is graying
they hear the siren song of youth playing
saying that their childhood is calling
the time is slipping away so quickly,
so run fast and catch the dying sun
for childhood is calling
and your life has just begun
[...] Read more
poem by Jim Milks
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