Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2016
Most gentle of souls,
Kindred of old,
Who raised me up.
In dreams you linger,
And in the mirror,
And in every shade of red hair.
Though at the end
Shriveled and frail
Strength did not fail.
A story kept alive in Esthers,
What is past
Has not passed.
Batya
Written by
Batya  Israel
(Israel)   
507
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems