Sunday, June 28, 2009

Forget-me-not.

I have so many things to tell you. Like that I got my ring back. But today I'm tired, and a little sad, and I wrote a poem. Which is something I don't do very often. And it goes like this.

Forget me not
When you grow tired of me;
When dappled cheery sunlight falls to shadow,
And I am mixed instead among the ferns and stones.
Forget me not
When I grow weak and weary,
When bones groan more plaintively
Than Grandmother's rocking chair.
Forget me not
When my blue wedding dress has turned a
Faded yellow-gray,
When words stop pouring for pain of pointing pen.
Because "till death do us"
Means till the sweet, or bitter,
End.