John F. McCullagh

(09/28/1954 / Flushing)

His Gemma


His Gemma
Sixty Seven years they were together,
until only death did part.
It is difficult for Him to deal with:
Death rends asunder human hearts.
Until this happened his mind seemed clear
in spite of his advancing years.
Then his daughter got the call
That nearly broke her grieving heart
Her Father asking for her mother’s number-
He’s lost Gemma’s number and needs to talk.
He needs to hear her voice again.
To tell her at hat his love is true.
Through tears his daughter answers back;
“ I ‘d give you the number if I knew.”

Submitted: Friday, March 07, 2014
Edited: Friday, March 07, 2014

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poet's Notes about The Poem

True story, only a name has been changed

Comments about this poem (His Gemma by John F. McCullagh )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. (1) The Ceaseless Waves of Sorrow, Uriah Hamilton
  2. An Ode to a Toad Named Frank, Susan Sparks
  3. The Path, Deepak Hariharan
  4. A Hymn to God, Dr John Celes
  5. The Facebook Poem, Alan W. Jankowski
  6. The Jerk At Work, Alan W. Jankowski
  7. When Friends Betray Friends, Alan W. Jankowski
  8. My Love Did Sometimes Wander, Alan W. Jankowski
  9. No Help At All, Alan W. Jankowski
  10. The Bird, the Cat, the Monster and I…., Poetheart (back)

Poem of the Day

poet Sir Walter Scott

The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,
And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day;
Then gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
Gather, gather, gather Grigalach!

...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]