memories (Remove filter)
WALKING THRU MEMORIES
I tend to not find things sacred
but rather memories
Things can burn up in a fire
but memories are your's forever
Like the first time I saw my son
when they laid him on my stomach
Like the look on my husband's face
when he said "I do"
Like the look on my son's face
when he too said "I do" to his sweet wife
Like the time as a small child when my big brother
put me ...
Sunday 29th January 2017 9:39 pm
Recent Comments
Holden Moncrieff on Not Every Eye
43 minutes ago
Holden Moncrieff on Better Sight...
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'What can writers and poets possibly do in the age of Trump, Farage and Starmer?'
2 hours ago
Mike McPeek on Civilities
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
4 hours ago
John Marks on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
4 hours ago
Hélène on Better Sight...
4 hours ago
Hélène on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
4 hours ago
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
6 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Where is THIS Jerusalem?
7 hours ago