HER NAME BE LISA
I sit here on a weekly basis visiting her, the green grass beneath me,
Life goes on all around but In between a piece of land that rests quietly.
It holds those whom have passed on, whom rest peacefully In the great beyond,
This Is such a beautiful spot where the dead lay silently beneath the aging trees.
I can feel the wind upon my skin as It Is seen with branches moving musically,
The slightly clouded sky moves along forever as forever this will be her grave site.
Her names be Lisa as It will be always carved In stone, I sit here while she Is forever gone,
A place she goes, somewhere, where It Is only the peacefully departed shall ever know.
This place where I sit, a memorial to them, to her so that all will be remembered by some,
I know that she rests not here beneath a grave stone with her name upon It, she’s gone.
Physically It Is as close as can be, does she know I am here, she sleeps always In my heart,
Her name be Lisa, she once had life here as I still live on without her, one day our souls will meet.
Keith Garrett
🌺
I, too, visit a grave and sit, though on a desert xeriscape. Her name be Penny. She is with me, constantly.
Thanks for reading
On Sun, Feb 12, 2017 at 8:26 PM, keithgarrettpoetry wrote:
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