uffff.
I think I tried to hard to make it rhyme, so the quality is lacking a lot.


THANKSGIVING--


to the deceased

As we fill and give our thanks
We ponder our hearts, that empty space
We know he is safe beyond God's gates
Bless his soul, his heart, his face.

His chair is gone, the air is full
Of strangers' tones and sweet perfume
Son fantôme est blanc, noir, et bleu
Il est dans nos coeurs, notre soleil, notre lune.



Poetry by kaytee
Read 618 times
Written on 2008-12-04 at 04:43

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normalil
We don't celebrate Thanksgiving here, but I celebrate your poem and the sentiments behind it. The "Franglais" is lovely, as is indeed the whole write...
2008-12-04


Kathy Lockhart
Quality lacking?? This is lovely. I flows beautifully
2008-12-04