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