.

Again

The bench is near where children play
And where she sits to dream and muse.
She knows her life will shortly fade—
A doleful thought she can’t refuse.

Her wrinkled skin declares her age,
And her eyes, alive years ago
When young and lustrous in their shine,
Now seem like dying embers’ glow.

Her hair is dull, a tangled gray,
And lifeless in the twilight breeze.
She smiles, recalling years ago
When she could walk with graceful ease.

The countless memories she’s stored
Begin to flood her waning mind.
Oh, how she longs for youth once more—
The days when life was fun and kind.

The children’s songs and gleeful shrieks
Arrest her ears and misty eyes.
She sees in them the days she lived—
The years she wants to eulogize.

As she observes the children play,
The clouds announce an evening rain.
She faintly smiles and shuts her eyes,
Then dreams of being a child again.

.

.

A Forgotten Joy

He drives in grief to grandma’s home,
The place he always loved to roam.
For decades now, he has been gone,
But death has claimed her life at dawn.

When he arrives, a crowd has thronged
To grieve for her, who had belonged.
And then he joins the tears that flow
As he absorbs the heavy blow.

They talk about the times they shared
And how they felt so unprepared.
But now that she has breathed her last,
They look for comfort in the past.

Recalling all his wondrous years,
He steps away from all his peers.
His eyes are drawn to photo frames
That now preserve undying names.

In thought, he walks into her room,
Where he had played in days of bloom.
And there, beside his grandma’s bed,
Remained his box of faded red.

He lifts the lid, then reaches in
And finds the boy that he had been.
And now, like then, he hugs the toy
His grandma made to bring him joy.

.

.

Angel L. Villanueva is a poet and a USPS mail carrier residing in Massachusetts.


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14 Responses

  1. Roy Eugene Peterson

    Both poems are laden with sweet sentimentality and mourning memories that touch the heart. They are beautifully written with wonderful rhyme and rhythm that sings to me.

    Reply
  2. Satyananda Sarangi

    How wonderful the flow of these poems! I especially liked the line
    “She sees in them the days she lived—
    The years she wants to eulogize.”

    Lovely work!

    Reply
  3. Paul A. Freeman

    Two well-written poems that gallop along seamlessly, though melancholically.

    Thanks for the reads, Angel.

    Reply
    • Angel L. Villanueva

      Thank you, Paul! I’ve been trying to write about different themes these past few years, like the human side of our lives—the challenges we face and the frailties of life.

      Reply
  4. Margaret Coats

    Both are touching, Angel. “Again” reminds me of your “Endless Bloom.” These new poems imply the existence of personal and family secrets within the scenes portrayed (such as identities of persons whose undying names are preserved within photo frames, and recognized by the man who walks through his grandma’s house). Love the ending of “Forgotten Joy,” where this man rediscovers not the toy physically there, but himself as a boy. Very skillful development of concept and brief narrative there.

    Reply
    • Angel L. Villanueva

      Margaret, thank you so much for your comment! I had hoped that the narrative style would be appealing in these poems, touching on events that are very real in everyday life. Thanks again.

      Reply
  5. Shamik Banerjee

    These poems are so beautiful and emotive, Angel. I remember my first time reading your work a month ago. Ever since, I’ve become an admirer of your poetry and have read the ones present here. Absolutely wonderful! Keep delighting us!

    Reply
    • Angel L. Villanueva

      Shamik, I am humbly pleased that you like what I’ve written. I keep working on improving what I write while making use of different forms and styles. Thank you so much!

      Reply

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