A beautiful, black woman,
Rocks back and forth in a wooden chair,
Perched in a small cottage
Of a seaside town
Where the wind was cold and wise.
Her grey hair grew out,
And tucked remained in a scarf,
Her brown eyes faded,
Her brown skin wrinkled,
And the blue skies were seen in her eyes.
The morning was chilly,
And the sun lit the path golden
As muscle men carried,
A white casket down an isle
To the shadows of an oak tree in it's depth.
Laid in cool sand,
with flowers as a blanket
We laid her to rest,
With God,
With Love,
with Life.
Take a trip inside my mind as I share timely insights, musings, and perspectives on life, love, and everything in between.
26 April 2012
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
It's a very difficult challenge to try to understand oneself and one's own mind. It's a difficult thing to do because you questi...
-
Today, was one of those days where everything I felt just came rushing in and my emotions were all messed up and confused. - Sometimes, wh...
-
It's Christmas day. Supposedly the most beautiful time of the year. I question why it has been graced with that title. From my experienc...
No comments:
Post a Comment