The last thing you will remember, When death comes; Is that life is merely an ember, Amidst the setting sun. The last thing we will cry, When the deed is done; Is that death is not merely a goodbye, Memories live on.

⠀ sometimes, in the morning, on a clear day, the sun beams, into my bedroom, and I like to sit, with my back, against the window, to feel every little photon, radiate my skin, it is delighted, to drink in the rays, of starlight. ⠀ The Power of Poetry how to submit?medium.com

⠀ There will be a day, I fear, For us to depart. ⠀ Sadness, Sorrow, Unhappiness, For we will depart. ⠀ When that time comes, And I hope it never does, I’ll say, ⠀ It was my honour to know you, My love, my strength, my heart. ⠀

⠀⠀ I whisper to the wind, ⠀ A kiss, For you alone, It is a wish I give, To find you, Wherever you roam. ⠀ It may not be welcomed, From person unknown. But this whisper is signed, From someone, Who loved you, ⠀ Long ago.

⠀ Courage to love. A heavenly white dove. Her golden smile. I could stare a while. Then my garden within. Did what gardens due. As you walked in. Flowers grew. ⠀

⠀ When graced to be a father, Lord Please. Give me a daughter. They say, A man must love his sons more, But a man can be jealous of his sons. But his daughter can always be, The light in his life. ⠀

⠀ Dear Mother, Do you remember telling me? ⠀ “I am the safety of the harbour! You are the ship I built you to be. Set sail! See the Seven Seas! If you encounter stormy weather, You have my blessing, To return to me. You may return to my harbour, …