Memories

 Memories

I walked where once the meadows,

In summer richness tossed their grassy plumes

In midday sunshine and in shadow,

And beckoned gaily to the passing hours.

The willow and the hazelwood

Now stands beside the stream.

The thorn, the thistle and the briar

Infest the pleasant plain.

The fleeting years have robbed the scene

Of all that heart holds dear.

Those happy hours have passed away;

But fondest memory lingers still.

I paused beside the hallowed place

Where spread the roof at setting sun,

A welcome invitation giving,

To each loved face and form.

The struggling rosebud marked the spot

Where vanished feet once trod the way,

In evening hour, at close of day

To shelter, home and mother.

Again I hear dear mother's voice, "My son,

Life's weak frail stream soon ends,

The soul alone stays young."

Mother's Day, May 12th, 1935

Blackduck American

By Andrew J. Paul