The dead we hold in memory As today tells their story Our hearts and minds hear it again Reliving them in prayerful pain Under the shadow of earth’s drear Our...
The wilted branch of the willow tree Drooped, touching her headstone with its tender fingers, The browning grasses and the primroses stood like A thousand soldiers, ever watchful and protective...
[caption id="attachment_1361" align="aligncenter" width="300"] Tears For The Dead[/caption]My face is wet and I know not yet whether it is rain or tearsMy heart beats with spasmodic feats.Is it anticipation or...