LeRoy A. Paul

06/04/2019 3:12 PM |

LeRoy A. Paul
A birthday gift

I picked a rose, was pale in hue
Wet green grass, I did walk through
I laid it down upon your stone
You could say … your very own

I spoke of times that you did miss
Some of which were very bliss
I spoke of times I was in need
And my thoughts … that you should heed

I looked around, the sky was grey
Rain again was on its way
Casting silence upon the scene
A tranquil space … was so serene

The wind was still and made me think
If only once, I could blink
And bring the past back into view
The memories then … would all be new

Then I asked you, “How was heaven?”
“It is a place I shall get in?”
“Are they nice and treat you well?”
I spoke out loud … time will tell

I knew your ears were listening to
All that I was telling you
I knew your eyes were there to see
The only visitor … which was me

I never sat, the ground was wet
Was rain or tears, they both had met
I left the rose, your very own
A birthday gift … then I went home.

Ann Paul

In memory of LeRoy A. Paul
June 3, 1923 to 2003

This is a paid notice.

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