To my dearest grandfather I call him papa
Poetry by Courtney Marie Marion
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Written on 2009-01-16 at 05:10
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The Grave
All is silent.
Except
the wind in the trees,
The creek rushing,
The animal sounds.
I discover Flowers all so wild all so beautiful.
A bunny hops up on to my lap I stroke its elegant white fur.
Then I see the grave again.
While I read I think.
On how you taught me so much.
Playing cards, and such.
If only you saw your get well card.
It just might have been your last smile, the one thats worth all the while.
I miss you so picked a bad time to go.
I love you Papa.
But now your at rest with Nana.
Poetry by Courtney Marie Marion
Read 504 times
Written on 2009-01-16 at 05:10
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