shadows flee
as forlorn feet make their solemn march
around the corner
towards the front
following the funeral car
tears, though silent as they fall
are heard by one
by one and all
and the trees tell us a story
of a man who breathed his last
remember me
when the soft wind blows
when the frost kills the flowers
and there's no more sun
don't forget me
breathe in the scent
of your one
your one and only love
I do love your scarf, Sarah- it looked lovely in the shop but I must say it looks even better on you.
ReplyDelete*winks*
xx
And you looked lovely in the shop, m'dear/
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lovely poem! I just love it!!
ReplyDeleteThanks!
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