''Beloved Sister Love''
The last time I saw my sister love,
she lay in repose so sweetly;
her lips were rosy in death's stillness,
arms folded as if in prayer.
I kissed her cold dead cheek,
and I will remember her;
sleeping in her forever rest,
in 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,
who comes to read a name in stone.
And when I walk this long path,
I go back to that sad day;
where I stood beneath the trees,
and placed a rose on her grave.
_____________________
December 16, 2016
Poetry/Verse/"Beloved Sister Love"
Copyright Protected, ID 16-858-738-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to Contest 250,
sponsor, Brian Strand
Eighth Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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