Ode to My Grandmother

[rabid reader]

The procession continues through the attentive stone lines. The flanks of the memory, lining with the wholesoem gloom that accompanies such a party.

The procession is unabated dispite the human need to have this lost returned so to finish their Godlike work upon this earth.

Still the legs move, no questions as to why. Just ponderings of her conciousness, is she still to be rewarded for all her works?

The burden is heavier. My back moves with the guilt of not ever saying good-bye, I bare her with my palms, but carry my cross with my heart.

Forgiveness is swift. It is when you push the dirt upon her memory. When you press the lilie to the freshly turned soil, that you know her forgiveness is always enternal.

Her immortality secured, in a darkened corner of my heart, her new home will be forever built.

[holograph]

very beautiful rr. poetry helps, doesn't it ;)

[rabid reader]

very beautiful rr. poetry helps, doesn't it ;)

well it's a lot easier.

[Virgil]

Very touching, rabid.

[jon1jt]

I'm a softy when it comes to poems having to do with grandma or grandpa, mom or dad. I loved the lines:

My back moves with the guilt of not ever saying good-bye, I bare her with my palms, but carry my cross with my heart.

Forgiveness is swift. It is when you push the dirt upon her memory. When you press the lilie to the freshly turned soil, that you know her forgiveness is always enternal.

I wish you would have arranged it differently - the long lines take some of the sentimental steam out of what is a very moving poem. I think this is the best piece I've read of yours, and you've written some very good ones. Keep it up, sir or madam. :)