Author Information
THINGS I SHALL MISS
The things I shall miss are not made by man;
the warmth of the sun on my skin
or the fallen fledgling I once held in my hand.
The things that I love are soft or unseen,
like a baby ducks down, or a calm zephyr breeze.
A touch from a hand on the back of my head,
when I cried in despair and wished I were dead.
I'm trying to balance these scales of life
by seeking out pleasures to minimize the strife.
Pleasures like, listening to the sound of my flag
as it whips overhead on a warm windy day...
Theatrics of butterflies as they dance
through the air, above their bright colored flowerbed
that I planted there.
The cumulous clouds as they shadow the earth,
or the cry from a baby, who just withstood birth.
The dandelion puff as it carries its' seed,
and the sound of a sigh, when life offers reprieve.
The beauty of the shadow from a single blade of grass,
or the music from an orchestra, of course made of brass...
These are the treasures that life gave to me,
the things I shall miss, when my soul is set free.
