Memories
Many photographs hung upon my walls,
in beautiful frames the beloved dead smiled;
those deaths I have never quite reconciled,
and each time I pass them my sorrow falls.
And from those fancy frames each beloved calls,
after some thought I made a decision;
oh, have a new and beautiful vision,
I am removing the dead from my walls.
In an old ornate chest I will put them,
all the photographs and albums and things;
anything that pulls hard on my heartstrings.
Even photos of my gone cats are there,
I place each memory with loving care;
and I will go often to touch each gem.
It is a way to leave the past behind;
but with the beloved I am ever twined.
_____________________
May 01, 2023
Poetry/Rhyme/Memories
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1544-101-01
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Up To 20 Lines
sponsor, Sotto Poet, Judged 05/02/2023
First Place
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