A picture, sweet and simple.
Known for holding a thousand words,
yet, not beginning to pervade the love
felt for ones kin.
The cherished image of a mans now resting child
playing in the olive grove,
lay now half crumpled
in a soft hands grasp.
Forever trapped in a piece of paper,
subsides something
worth more than his own life,
before she was so frail and delicate
in that hospital bed.
He is happy to remember her in this way.
4 comments:
All of your post I read have that good tone, how do you do it???👍
Wow, I could really imagine this in my head
I really like this one because I personally I have been working on a poem about memories/pictures, what was your inspiration?
A question.
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