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 headOver 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]