The
Memory Mile.
How
old time has flown,
Brine
and breezes serenade,
How
we remember you,
And
the love that you made.
In
rows of belated memories,
The
army look out to sea,
Carrying
the love of friends,
For
as far as the eye can see.
Down
below, the waters churn,
But
they'll not bother you now,
We
mourn the light within your eyes,
But
our love carries on somehow.
You
came to change the world,
And
for us you always will,
Here
we remember good old days,
And
the emptiness that you'd fill.
This one is so special. It really resonate with me. Thanks for posting it!
ReplyDeleteKisses from Astorga
In Britain this fashion of dedicating a bench seat as a reminder of the dead is common, especially along the sea front areas. This row of seats was in fact almost a mile long along the top of the cliff. I had only gone about 30 benches along before I realised I had to stop reading the tributes and write a poem about the love that went into people putting their emotions on display and what greater love had inspired this response from loved ones, family and friends. I say stop reading because I was in tears, the dedication and love given was way too much for my tiny soul to contain, and it spilled out hopefully into this poem of celebration.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Mary
xx
Peaceful Warrior.
Beautiful words and the pictures you paint with them, brother,
ReplyDeleteYOU,... are the Ferryman...taking all you meet to their rightful destination..... simply gifted! xx