I Write Poems, Pages and Pages
. . .
as a child I had an unwritten history in this world
blind, wailing and unaware, totally helpless
crying is all I knew of life at that time
deep in my throbbing heart a love was born
every day I was kissed and hugged by mother
full of wild mirth and infant joy, I laughed and smiled
gone now is that love for she lays in her tomb
hanging my head I write poems, pages and pages
in my soul I keep the memories from gathering dust
just yesterday, I reminisced a happy day of us
keeping the love from being lost, I write and write
look at me with your sad eyes
mother, I will paint poems full of love and grief
now and then, I gaze at the past with quivering tears
oh, and with my throbbing heart memories flow
past the clicking, ticking clock of life, I remove the dust
quietly, I bow my head at your tomb and let tears fall
returning often to clean the cold, weathered stone
sweet memories, memories, memories is all I have
till my last breath, no dust shall gather
until we meet beyond this domain of earth, I keep
visions of a realm where your beautiful soul sleeps
whatever time has destroyed, I must strive to remove the dust
xanadu, a garden lovely is where I dream that you dwell
your memory will never, ever, ever, ever gather dust, for
zillions of years from now my poetry will speak of deep love
_______________________________
February 26, 2015
Poetry/Abecedarian/I write poems, pages and pages
Copyright Protected, ID 02-644-734-25
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La FRance
For the Standard contest, Gathering Dust,
sponsor, John Lawless, Judged 03/2015
Second Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2015
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