Poems by Ann D. Stevenson

11 - 19 of 19

Six Senses Of Love
- Published: November 2022
Falling In Love

in Short Love Poems

I heard your voice,
I saw you grin,
I tasted your lips,
I breathed you in,

I heard your voice,
I saw you grin,
I tasted your lips,
I breathed you in,
I held you close,
I touched your skin.

My sixth sense said,
"I’ll marry him."
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- Stories 0
- Shares 18
- Favorited 3
- Votes 38
- Rating 4.11

It's That Time Of Year
- Published: December 1, 2023
Christmas Being A Difficult Time For Some

in Christmas Poems

Christmas here once more,
hard to ignore, festive
wreaths on every door.

Christmas here once more,
hard to ignore, festive
wreaths on every door.

Housed inside is needled
pine, bright baubles shine
with tiny twinkling lights.

Trees glow, festive music
flows, lifts up hearts, baking
starts, excitement grows.

Little sticky fingers help frost
white icing on the cake, set mini
figures among the snowy peaks.

Traditional food abounds,
turkey with all its trimmings,
a flame-lit Christmas pudding.

Snaps of bursting crackers,
scattered paper hats and jokes,
sounds of popping corks.

Glasses brimmed with bubbles
of good cheer - that's how it is
for some - at this time of year.
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- Stories 2
- Shares 13
- Favorited 0
- Votes 9
- Rating 4.22
Featured Shared Story

I really loved this Poem! If you would ever ask me, Christmas is my FAVORITE holiday and it is the best time of year! My favorite thing about Christmas is the family being together and...

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My Other Half
- Published: February 21, 2024
Missing My Other Half

in Husband Death Poems

Together for over fifty years,
times of laughter and of tears.
I fell in love with all his charms,
could dance forever in his arms.

Together for over fifty years,
times of laughter and of tears.
I fell in love with all his charms,
could dance forever in his arms.

Except he didn't dance.

He preferred to ride a horse
I'd only ride if I was forced.
He loved dogs - I must confess
I thought they made a lot of mess.

We always had a dog.

I love people and talking,
he would rather be walking.
I like to paint and write,
he felt that was alright.

But he would rather read.

He liked to ski,
that was not for me.
I like to shop,
he definitely did not.

We both had fun in the sun.

It was not a perfect match,
but he was quite a catch,
and now that he is here no more
I feel stranded on an empty shore.

Half of me has gone.
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- Stories 7
- Shares 6
- Favorited 0
- Votes 18
- Rating 4.11
Featured Shared Story

Hi Alan

Yes, we have very similar stories. I too had been married for 58 years. Like you, I have also done a creative writing course since retirement. I very much look forward to...

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When I Made My Vow
- Published: June 7, 2024
Becoming A Carer To Spouse

in Sickness Poems

'For better for worse'
I did not know
what worse was going to be,
that I would lose

'For better for worse'
I did not know
what worse was going to be,
that I would lose
my own identity.

He too is lost
in muddled mists
of time and mind.

Oh, that the fog would clear
so he could see
the lover that I used to be
before
I became the carer.
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- Votes 8
- Rating 4.00

A Lasting Memory
- Published: July 24, 2024
in Falling in Love Poems

It was not the sight of a night sky
bejewelled with numerous stars,
nor the whisperings from the waves.

It was not the sight of a night sky
bejewelled with numerous stars,
nor the whisperings from the waves.

It was the light in your eyes,
taste of salt on your lips,
when I received that first kiss.

It was not the rippled moonlit path
beguiling us into the sea,
nor the glow of a smouldering fire.

It was the warmth of your arms
and your talk that charmed
it was that - that stayed with me.
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- Votes 3
- Rating 4.00
It's A Dog's Life
- Published: August 12, 2024
Growing Old - Rather Like My Dog

in Pet Friend Poems

My beloved canine friend
life's not how it used to be
you no longer hear my whistle
and just keep on running free.

My beloved canine friend
life's not how it used to be
you no longer hear my whistle
and just keep on running free.

I wave my arms and signal
but you cannot always see
or is it just that you prefer
to please yourself not me.

Your coat's a little shabby
I think you've lost some hair
but with a little grooming
your looks remain quite fair.

Your sense of smell is good
and so is your sense of taste
you sniff out food anywhere
which has increased your waist.

Your bones are not so supple
you struggle with some steps
but when barking at a stranger
you still show lots of pep

As I look into your eyes
which have grown slightly dim
I see the same young puppy
still nestled deep within

You remind me of somebody
I wonder, who can it be
I have a sneaking feeling
that it might in fact be me.
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- Stories 2
- Shares 6
- Favorited 0
- Votes 10
- Rating 4.30
Featured Shared Story

Oh Pat,

You are always so encouraging. Any comments from you mean a great deal, as I have such enormous respect for your poetry. I do hope you are keeping well. It's been such a joy...

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She Tried To Fit In
- Published: September 8, 2024
Moving Into A Nursing Home

in Aging Poems

To find room
for her flannel nighties,
a well-worn woollen dressing gown,
her furry slippers

To find room
for her flannel nighties,
a well-worn woollen dressing gown,
her furry slippers
and a few day clothes too.

A much loved book by Agatha Christie,
only one, although
she owned a whole collection,
and a china duck, small, lifelike,
from another collection.

Three photos,
the son who was lost at sea,
her daughter carried away by cancer
and a small picture of her husband
to put beside her single bed.

She brought memories,
muddled up memories,
memories of old songs
she loved to sing,
but sometimes she didn't want to join in.

Sometimes she didn't want to get up,
to be washed, to be dressed,
to mix with others,
sometimes she wanted to go home,
back where she belonged.
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- Stories 4
- Shares 5
- Favorited 0
- Votes 12
- Rating 4.17
Featured Shared Story

Oh Pat,

I sometimes think if it wasn't for people like you I might just give up writing poetry. I get so low when my poems don't receive any votes. In fact I tried to get one deleted,...

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The Clocks Have All Stopped
- Published: October 25, 2024
How Life Changes After A Loved One Dies

in Husband Death Poems

(He used to wind them
once a week.)

A dark oak clock

(He used to wind them
once a week.)

A dark oak clock
on the mantlepiece
stands bleak
above an empty grate
once a source
of warmth and light.

There is a slight glow
from the clock
on his desk
made of gilded brass
a farewell gift
from his final post.

The grandfather clock
a valued antique
stands silent in the hall
no further chimes
no pendulum swings
hands don't move any more.

The only sound left
is the faintest tick
from a well-worn watch
with its military band
a familiar fixture on his wrist
I now hold it in my hand.
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- Stories 2
- Shares 3
- Favorited 0
- Votes 11
- Rating 4.09
Featured Shared Story

Pat, thank you, thank you, thank you for getting it. You always connect to my emotions that create the poem in the first place. You are a very special person. Ann x

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (2)

Remembrance
- Published: November 5, 2024
Remembering Those Who Have Fought And Died

in War Poems

(The book I've been reading rests on my knee,
you sleep.) (Wendy Cope)

I am trying to read, I cannot sleep,

(The book I've been reading rests on my knee,
you sleep.) (Wendy Cope)

I am trying to read, I cannot sleep,
remembering.
I want to hold you close, when you keep
remembering.
You sleep now in the lamp's soft glow.

You woke me earlier shouting 'no',
remembering
that bomb going off, a lethal mine,
remembering
splattered bodies, shattered minds.

Men blown to bits before your eyes,
remembering
that was how your best friend died,
remembering
how you fought so hard for peace.

Some of us will never cease
remembering.
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- Stories 0
- Shares 4
- Favorited 0
- Votes 6
- Rating 4.33

11 - 19 of 19

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