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“MEMORIES”
A broken cup filled with silk flowers
Tells the story of whiled away hours.
A sparkling rock picked off the ground
Speaks of a path on which someone was bound.
A dried up corsage in a closet tossed;
Remnants of love in the folds now lost.
Memories from a long time ago,
Set aside and tied with pretty bows.
Memories for a receding mind
To be conjured up from time to time.
Repeating the tales of what once was,
Of how we lived and how we loved.
© amy jean
Aug. 2004
a.k.a. A. J. Angerstein Article views: 8365
Comments from Our Readers
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"I am not a poetry judge, but your rhyme is balanced and your thoughts coincide with your title. Good job! Continue writing!" - Jim, August 16 2009 - reply |
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