Pines to the sky so straight and tall
Sleeps a little lamb, alone by his home
Flowers planted by his mother's own hands
Still bloom and shine                                                                  
                                                                                                        
Through those tall straight pines


The house is gone, and the rocks from the
Fireplace lay crumbled beneath layers of leaves
From all the years and seasons that have
Blown through the passing of time.

Quiet and peaceful all around
Winds gently blowing and whistling
As if it were singing

Through those tall straight pines

As I walk with my husband
We talk about family and home
I wonder about Lesley and about
The loved ones he left alone as he was layed

Beneath those tall straight pines

I walked with my husband
And children down this road
Where Lesley and his family
Once also strolled.

His headstone is leaning and
Darkened with age
The inscription upon it has lost
it's depth
Still, you can read it
As did his mother when she
Wept over it

Over a century has passed
From that day and now they
Are with him in our heavenly
Fathers way.
                                             By Connie Hopkins