Poem of the Week

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a name poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Agostino has been touched by grace,
Giving him the gifts of faith and love.
Of him it can be said he lives in joy,
Singing thanks and praise beneath each breath.
To see him is to be in his embrace.
In him there is a love no loss can move,
Nor passion still, nor evidence destroy,
Only peace along the edge of death.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

July 19, 2012 #694

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Ramadan.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Religion must touch more than mind and heart.
A living faith must be a way of life.
Mundane tasks done righteously are prayer,
As outer harmony heals inner strife.
Devotion must not be a thing apart,
Applied when turned towards Mecca. Everywhere
Needs passionate delight and humble care.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

July 12, 2012 #693

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Bastille Day.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Before the terror comes the tyranny.
A bloodstained flower has roots in bloodstained soil.
Some would steal the fruit of others' toil,
Then claim it as a right of property.
In revolutions, though, if chaos reigns,
Legitimacy is lost, and many will
Look back with less distaste at former ill,
Eager more for order than for gains.
Days of terror yield dictators new,
As the many yield power to the few,
Yearning for the clarity of chains.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

July 5, 2012 #692

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is an anniversary poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

For you there is no more enduring passion
Or salient presence in your inner rooms,
Realizing the hopes of brides and grooms,
The deepest bonds that separate souls can fashion.
Years accumulate, the leaves turn ashen,
Forests stand naked as the winter looms.
On frigid mornings, on golden afternoons,
Underneath the roots love finds its ration.
Ravenous once, you now have long been sated,
Yearning still, but from a place called home,
Embracing what you have as what you are.
A choice was made, of course, but now seems fated,
Rendered as a fable writ in stone,
Signaled at your birth by some bright star.

© by Nicholas Gordon