Where the ghost of your hand still lingers on my heart,
the sun shines; and a young sproutling
grows —
A fire burns and the grass dances sweetly to the sound of music,
Your smile is sprinkling from the sky where you sway with the Lord —
"Amazing,"
"amazing grace," — the world seems to say,
at your leaving — although these days seem dark and lonely in your stead,
a strong oak tree with pictures of you stands high in my head
Over the faltering lillies,
we grow,
together, as a family,
stronger and closer — like the branches of that oak reaching for the stars,
where you now dwell
fully alive,
pure and everlasting —
We say we love you in what we do,
no matter how many years may pass,
we will never forget you.
YOU ARE READING
Easier To Forget
PoetryPoems. // Hi, hello. This is a sort-of memoir/journal of unorthodox poems that I've written over the years. I started writing in 2015. Glad you're here (: Feel free to leave comments and vote or w/e. ×Mysneakz [Completed]
