your memory
Whispering winds, walnut treeold playhouse and afternoon tea
paintings of ladies hang on the wall
plastic fruit bowl, mantel in hall
huge wooden dressers, beautiful rugs
safe as a child in your loving hugs
scent of qtol runs through the air
i sit on your bed, you brush your hair
I sit at the organ, under chandelair
although your gone, your memory lives here
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.