A remembrance to a motherly soul..


Epistle to the first kindered soul

There you stand
On God's holy land.
Where children play
And birds live to stay,
Round and round in a circle;
safe and sound, protected and secure.
Your motherly hands
So heavenly bends
To shade the hot sun
from their sights and sound.
Wisdom you teach,
Love you preach.
A heavenly trace
in a mother's place.

When all is long gone,
and strong meat turns to bone,
your story is remembered
your last words whispered,
Let it be known
that you never frown,
that your heart knows best
and you use it always.







Poetry by syer
Read 668 times
Written on 2008-12-19 at 05:57

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