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aspire
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The Spiral Staircase in mysterious years
maybe someone will think of me
a trace of myself
a quiet influence
some far flung night, mid winter
i hope someone will think of me
when inky branches
brush glittering sky
awaiting spring's caress
perhaps i will be
someone's sweetened memory
bringing contemplation with the breeze
a night like tonight
i think of you as you are
made of the dreams
you swirled into reverence
if i could be so lucky
to be remembered
like i remember you.
Beautiful tribute...
Beautiful tribute...
Copyright © JessterStarshine
aww thanks :)
I did my best.
You are amazing. That is
You are amazing. That is all.
"It is a terrible thing to be so open. It is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world" -- Sylvia Plath.
awww thanks :)
It doesn't do any justice to his work though.
aspire
Beautifully, Wonderful...
:)
Awww, thanks!!!
I Miss Cevance Also
May we all be so cherished and remembered with love the way we remember our beloveds.
:)
thinking of who i remember and how i will be remembered gives me something to strive for, i think this is the true test of how much you accomplished in life.
aspire no more
Take that sign down.
You inspire me.
Does that count ?
Really like this.
( like love )
It was a different time when your other friend
Was writing and I missed it.
I will have to check some of it out.
I have a feeling his poems are smooth.
My sadness is with you .
The final call is so final.
KS
You made me write just from reading this.
It started as a comment and turned into a poem
As usual.
You do have that effect on me
( just so you know ) :D
awww thanks ;)
but it doesn't really count til AFTER i'm gone hahaha
It's funny that we think
That way.
When maybe we should be
More accepting while we are here.
KS
Furthermore
I surmise
It is not you ( the all inclusive yous )
Discovering someone
After they are gone
so much.
As it was the interactions you had
While they were here
That makes you remember
And care. :)
of course :)
but it's easy to remember someone who's still around. when we die, memory is all that's left behind and it fades over time.
some far flung night, mid
some far flung night, mid winter
i hope someone will think of me
… I can't help but love this. It speaks to a tender weakness of ours. And offers comfort – whether real or imagined. In the end, we are all the same; if just one person remembers our kindness when we are gone, than we have truly lived. Because that footprint left behind is the beauty of our design.
aww thank you so much
for your eloquent analysis. i'm really glad my meaning came through :)