Remembrance Day

I shall not cry Return! Return!

Nor weep my years away;

But just as long as sunsets burn,

And dawns make no delay,

I shall be lonesome – I shall miss

Your hand, your voice, your smile, your kiss.

 

Not often shall I speak your name,

For what would strangers care

That once a sudden tempest came

And swept my garden bare,

And then you passed, and in your place

Stood Silence with her lifted face.

 

Not always shall this parting be,

For though I travel slow,

I, too, may claim eternity

And find the way you go;

And so I do my task and wait

The opening of the outer gate.

Ellen M. H. Gates.

Photo. Remains of the Battle of Alsance, World War 1, on German / France border.

(c) Lee-Anne Kling 2014.

 

All in a name

“A rose by any other name, still smells as sweet.”

But would it sound as sweet?  Imagine if you will…

He sent his beloved a bunch of red cabbages.

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Or

“in the spring becomes a platyrhodon.”

71a                                                                               Or

” Tis the last thistle of summer left blooming all alone.”

 

(c) Marie Trudinger  2018

Photos (c) Marie Trudinger 2018