Our Summit

On the day I die, 
Under a deep grey sky, 
 Take me to the summit of the hill
Where the ancient oak tree grows 
And where we left our childhood woes 
 And we practice our free will,
Staying up in late night hours
Becasue we knew the world was ours.

Walk me under 
So I may finally rest, 
Seeking refuge unpossessed. 

You'll visit me with each day to pass
Until the upturned dirt births new grass,  
Erasing any evidence of time.
The stone above my head is what's left of my face.
There, you'll leave sweet sented flowers in a vase:  
Memories of happiness in its prime.

And with every day going,
The flowers will dry 
And one by one, die inside. 
Your visits start slowing, 
And my sorrows quit
Because there at our lone summit, 

There you'll be, laying right next to me. 
 





 
 


Comments:
 
Mike Firesmith   Mike Firesmith wrote
on 5/6/2008 6:36:15 AM
I like it!

danicpa68   danicpa68 wrote
on 5/6/2008 5:37:31 AM
This is so tender and beautiful.

Warriorprincess55   Warriorprincess55 wrote
on 5/6/2008 12:50:57 AM
Heartfelt and beautiful.

raven_ink
Poetry
Other
writing raven_ink
Feel the fear, and do it anyway because even though it's not too late, one day, it will be.

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Well...I was just thinking...and this is the outcome of my thoughts...
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