My Poem page
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Home
Or to the memorial
With no dought
When I look up what do I see?
A little winged creature looking at me, With big black eyes and a small pink nose,
Gray with a sripe,
Then I know you must be right,
He looks at me and glides on down,
Sit's on my shoulder,
and whispers in my ear,
a chatter that tells me what I need to hear,
He think's you're great,
With no doubt,
But it's plain to see...,
Who he loves is me.
Along the way
Along the way of life,
Things go along for us,
But for are gliders,
They don't go along with us,
They try and be ahead,
Ahead of everything,>>
Ahead in life and death,
They are stubborn,
They have to try it first,
They won't take next,
They can't bear last,
They have to be right ahead of you,
In everyting,
They want to try everthing,
They have to experiance everyting before you,
Maybe that's why they,
Seen to leave us fast.
