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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2159591
Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #2159591
Based upon a chat with a friend about saving memories and family connections.
She pulled a pressed rose from the Book of Luke’s pages.
These pale and flattened flowers bloomed once upon a time.
Now the colors are muted and the scent has long since diminished.
The petals once soft and flesh like lie flat, saddened; neglected.
These dried buds are stories of yesterday, slumbering today.

These pale and flattened flowers bloomed once upon a time,
When life and love and memories were young and new,
Even though they each correspond to a love one lost,
Whose name is carefully printed and followed with dates,
Birth and death separated with the small dash of a lifespan.

Now the colors are muted and the scent has long since diminished.
The old family Bible though well thumbed, mended, and dog eared
Now sits neglected in a dusty old storage space in a ramshackle garage
Collecting dust and missing a family who wander the world,
Daily further away from crushed roses and Jesus’ Word.

The petals once soft and flesh-like lie flat, saddened; neglected.
These dried flowers are stories of yesterday, slumbering today,
Making me wonder how tomorrow will be if we put aside the past
In an old family farmhouse, a lonely widow woman’s tears slowly dried.
She placed a rose to save in the Book of Luke’s pages.
© Copyright 2018 Lou-Here By His Grace (tattsnteeth2 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2159591