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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I go to a place of memories That haunt my vivid dreams On a winding path I walk, The path is always there ; Old oaks bend their branches, Of dripping leaves and moss ; The grass is emerald green, And many birds chirp unseen, Chipmunks scurry here and there, Running up and down the trees. And all around are flowers bright They flutter in the breeze. She waits beyond this bend; Oh she was my sister love. How we liked to play and play, Until that sad, dark day, She went to be an angel above. I think it was God's will. A rose I place upon her grave, And now I write the pain. The last time I saw my sister love, She lay in repose so sweetly; Her lips were rosy in death stillness. Arms folded as if in prayer, I kissed her cold dead cheek, And I will remember her ; Sleeping in her eternal ever rest, Her dress of the softest pink. The years have slipped past me, I am no longer a little girl ; But a woman of many years, Yet when I walk this path, I go back to that sad day. The day I watched sister love, Lowered into the earth below; Mother Earth opened wide, And then she was a memory. A memory that will haunt me, In all my days that remain ; This place of deep sorrow, A winding path beneath the trees, A name upon cold stone ; In poems inspired I write the pain, Of a my beloved sister love ________________________ August 15, 2015 Poetry/Verse/I Go to a Place of Memories Copyright Protected, ID 15-699-974-0 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym. For the contest, No More Masks, sponsor, Catie Lindsay 8th Place
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