Book Club Journal

Emerald Book Club
Let Me Die A Youngman’s Death

Let me die a youngman's deathnot a clean and in betweenthe sheets holy water deathnot a famous-last-wordspeaceful out of breath death When I'm 73and in constant good tumourmay I be mown down at dawnby a bright red sports caron my way homefrom an allnight party Or when...

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When Great Trees Fall

When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.

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Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep by Clare Harner. Do not stand
By my grave, and weep.
I am not there,
I do not sleep-
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints in snow
https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/do-not-stand-by-my-grave-and-weep-by-clare-harner

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A Child of Mine

I will lend you, for a little time,
A child of mine, He said.
For you to love the while he lives,
And mourn for when he’s dead.
It may be six or seven years,
Or twenty-two or three.

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Death is Nothing at All

Death is nothing at all By Henry Scott-Holland

Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.

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Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Robert Frost. “Nothing Gold Can Stay.”

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Trending Reads

On December 21 by Amos Russel Wells

Now let the weather do its worst,
With frost and sleet and blowing,
Rage like a beldam wild and curst,
And have its fill of snowing.
Now let the ice in savage vise
Grip meadow, brook, and branches,
Down from the north pour winter forth
In roaring avalanches.

December By Drew Osmond

Never Have I felt a December
So cold, so lonely.
The walk along the lake,
That changed a fate
The stumble in the snow,
I didn’t let go.

Bittersweet December by Christina

So tired of all the memories 
It brings me back to you
And I can’t help but wonder
How I’ll go on another year 
Fighting all these demons 
That remind me you’re not here 

December by Joseph Herron

Child of the grand old winter,
December floateth by;
And the ground without is bare and white
As the moon in the cloudless sky.

December by Harvey Carson Grumbine

December by Harvey Carson Grumbine

High like skeletons grim
The trees hold up their arms;
The last leaf’s hurried from its limb
By the tempest’s wild alarms;
The river ripples gray and cold,
And autumn’s o’er like a story told.

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