GHOSTS OF RECOLLECTION AND GRIEF...

 Pain felt deep in the morrow of her bones..
Tarnished , used, misplaced memory, alone..

 Where once a fragrant garden grew green and lush..
 Now brown dry leaves rustle an unkempt flowering bush..

 Tears fall down her weathered sunken aging cheeks..
 Briefly, in a quiet moment in time , a memory repeats..

 She recalls a child she holds in her once youthful arms..
 The child blissfully sleeps, so still and far from perpetual harm..

 Chastened now by the current time, it evolves through blinded eyes..
 The sacred memory vanishes, she recoils the present, the moment flew by..

 Unable to dance and once again run through the flowering meadows ..
 Her bent frame shuffles as she gathers her strength, her gait is slow..

 She stops and tries to hear what used to be his voice in the hall..
 No longer there.. He too is gone, yet he stands beside her, she hears his calls..

 She whispers to herself as she gathers the ghosts of recollection and grief..
Her prayers are to be taken from her world of dimly lit passages and sleep..

 Yet another day dawns as she listens and waits for the memories to once again be renewed,
  yes  begin..
 Smiling she believes she saw a child run around a corner and knows she hears his voice again ..

 Patsy McNutt Morgan 03/01/13