to be someone’s muse- a feeling unknown!
an honor so grand but beyond my hope,
the vastness of the sea before my eyes
its secrets can’t be hold in a rhyme,
midnight’s darkness- a friend before
now a foe, never haunted me before
a rose by other name can be “forget-me-not”
sorrows, sorrows and prayers always knock at my door,
cemetery is the home for the spirits
cemetery is the home for the memories,
i long for the “good old days”
when summer never left me alone,
now in my winter’s barren land
a glittery hope is what i pray for!