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(A Collection of Select Works... / The City That Never Sleeps)

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Stories fom th' grave, speak their tales....on winds of faith
Methodically, we lay our wreaths and sweet moon orchids
Standing o'er the steel-grey rock, with conscientious hope
Our whispered prayers somehow touch th' soul we beckon

Death's voice...cannot be qualified 'less you've been there
Yet, i've heard premonitions voice......choirs with credence
Of Sunday stories taught by men in black with white collars
An' faith, born of fear, as to when our winds of Death come

Stories from th' grave, shed no light upon th' deep unknown
Still, we follow olde traditions, in hopes to find new answers
We'll speak to steel-grey stone, upon......soft, unleveled soil
In hopes that all these stories blessed with truth

Perhaps, somewhere beyond th' winds....lay all th' answers

Submitted: Monday, October 13, 2008
Edited: Sunday, July 07, 2013

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Comments about this poem (' IF JUST FOR A MOMENT WITH YOU... by Frank James Ryan Jr...FjR )

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  • Ron Flowers (11/3/2008 7:49:00 PM)

    An excellent poem. I love the last line. A 10 from me, Frank.

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  • Emancipation Planz (10/26/2008 4:13:00 AM)

    Th' al bi no crying over this one... palest tails flicker down gravelly roads when daylight calls.... yay.. I hear there are some night time jobs opening at the semenatary.. eyes wide open an all.... I do not know Poe.. should I? ? but this here is faithfully Frankie...

  • Ashraful Musaddeq (10/25/2008 6:45:00 AM)

    Nice poem.
    Love it with 10.

  • Shimon Weinroth (10/25/2008 2:36:00 AM)

    very well done, stirring and profound,10 please do not be angry at the following suggestion, I love free verse, in this poem if you changed the line breaks mostly making each into two, the flow and power of speech would improve, try it,

  • Alison Cassidy (10/25/2008 2:36:00 AM)

    There is something strangely peaceful about this poem, despite the morbid subject matter. I detect the hand of the poet-philosopher at work here and the master musician who crafts his words with perfect pitch. Another piece of poetic magic. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

  • Bonnie Collins (10/24/2008 9:51:00 PM)

    What a wonderfull poem, the author takes the reader deep within the grave and shares the truth that we all feel who do visit a grave, we all are apt to talk, and even swear they listen and reply... The wind always represents the dead talking back to us if only in spirt..... I used to do this very same thing with my father as many of us as well do... Very sensitive subject, and filled with much imagery that took the reader the very last stanza...... EXCELLENT! ! !

  • Mimzy Sue (10/24/2008 1:59:00 PM)

    Really love this wonderful poem, it carried me away into deep thought. Very beautifully penned. keep it up! !

  • Sulaiman Mohd Yusof (10/23/2008 1:08:00 AM)

    As gravely as the graveyards...........tales of the unexpected will linger long as we see the darkness.

  • Sandra Fowler (10/22/2008 4:42:00 PM)

    In regard to the faith, I believe that old is gold. I expect it to
    get better farther on. Beautiful, poignant write, Frank. Your last
    line is simply superb.

    Warmest regards,


  • Scarlett Treat (10/20/2008 10:59:00 AM)

    From one who firmly believes the soul lives on after the death of the body...this is beautfully put, and breathes hope for us all....

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