Home

When my long journey is over, send me home

To the streets where as a child I roamed

Where I rode my bike, where I learned and I grew

Where I rolled in green grass on a sunny afternoon

Visit the park where I laughed and had fun

Where I spent summers nights chasing  lightening bugs

Crunching leaves as they fell, through brisk autumn days

See the pond where I skated, with the ice beneath my blades

Spinning slowly, gliding smoothly on a cold December day

In the Spring see the buds, smell the fresh dirt of the earth

As the sun shines bright on flowers in the courtyard, near my church.

Hear the music echo softly up Walnut Hill and through the trees

Past the place where I was born, as it's carried on the breeze

Then lie me down to rest

Near the one who kept me safe, loved me most and knew me best.

The Longest Winter

Winter seems to last the longest. 

The frozen ground, the falling snow and the bitter cold cannot chase me away.

I brush aside the fallen leaves, clumped and twisted, nestled down to cover your stone.

I lay these flowers tenderly, their bright colors against the stark background of a fall forgotten. 

The thought of you alone in the snow covered distance forms a lump in my throat, and an aching in my heart.

A bitter chill hangs in the air, and the wind whips at my back as I turn away.

Spring is coming young one.

I will remember you when the first buds appear on the trees, and when golden rays of sunshine pierce the bluest skies to shine upon your grave.

By: Kathleen Prue