Saturday, March 6, 2010

Remembering

I think of her as a Violet
almost hidden in the woods.
Tiny as the forest goes but
stately where she stood.

She never ask for anything
save her tiny little space,
and yet within that framework
made a lasting place.
The beauty of the Violet
is not easy to explain
But trying to forget it
would be totally in vain.

The preacher said, "She died
once the day she left the womb."
This time she left memories
to fill her empty room.


Grandma Proses
Shirley A. Bender
Copyright © 1985
'Remembering' set to music...
Composed by Laurie Stonerock

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