Tuesday, February 7, 2012
6th Febraury 1998. 14 years. Feels like yesterday.
If roses grow in heaven
If roses grow in heaven,
Lord please pick a bunch for me,
Place them in my Mother's arms
and tell her they're from me.
Tell her I love her and miss her,
and when she turns to smile,
place a kiss upon her cheek
and hold her for awhile.
Because remembering her is easy,
I do it every day,
but there's an ache within my heart
that will never go away.
ANONYMOUS.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
I must down to the seas again, the lonely sea and the sky
I must down to the seas again, the lonely sea and the sky
I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
John Masefield, Poet Laureate (1878 - 1967)
6th February. 14 years. Feels like yesterday.
If roses grow in heaven
If roses grow in heaven,
Lord please pick a bunch for me,
Place them in my Mother's arms
and tell her they're from me.
Tell her I love her and miss her,
and when she turns to smile,
place a kiss upon her cheek
and hold her for awhile.
Because remembering her is easy,
I do it every day,
but there's an ache within my heart
that will never go away.
Anonymous