English | Spanish | French | German | Portuguese| Italian

grandma poem

le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
levé des morts
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
parmi les montagnes j'ai erré
je me tiens par temps gris froid
je descends les chemins de jardin
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
roses et or
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
je meurs
je ne brûle aucun encens

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

  • Kuwait loses veteran liberal politician
  • The Assassination Of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford - DVDTimes.co.uk
  • Author Linda Eve Diamond Receives Two Awards from the International Listening Association (PRWeb)
  • What’s Going on Around Here? - Listen&Be Heard
  • GO-GETTERS - Columbia Daily Tribune
  • Flag Day beats the winter doldrums
  • TV Guy: Powerful 'Memory Keeper's Daughter' falls victim to screen ... - Times Herald-Record
  • Wednesday's Community News: Brenda Lucas - Huntington Herald Dispatch
  • The Black Crowes - The Age
  • Rain/Snow Showers Min: 33 / Max: 42 (Missoulian)
  • Online Magazine for Elementary Teachers Brings Polar Issues Into Classrooms Nationwide (Kansas City InfoZine)
  • Elsewhere and nowhere - Guardian
  • Shabbaton weekend to feature Israeli poetry - SouthCoastToday.com
  • A New Act Unfolds in Drama Dynasty (New York Times)
  • Over 2000 throng Faiz Amman Mela - Daily Times
 

Refinance your Mortgage today and save!

Second Mortgages

November 2007 Mortgage News

Poetry | Home | Contact Us | Educational Resources | Vote For This Poem | Visitor Favorites

Summer School Help Beginner Math Physics Primer Chemistry Primer Intro Psychology English Primer
Intro Grammar Beginner Writing American History American Civil War Intro Biology Composition Help


Check out El-Grande Web Directory today!


www.endlesspoetry.com ©Copyright 2004 - 2007 Michael VanDeMar All Rights Reserved