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Open Poetry #48
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MICHELMAS
Member
since 2012-02-15
Posts 305
Lancashire England

0 posted 2012-04-27 06:21 AM



The Steeple

When as a child my fingers did a Steeple make
And through the doors my eyes to peek
And there the altar see
Within my mind, I often thought, these things were true
Memories fading as I grew
Selecting what to see.

And then my youth, when I knew all, the right and wrong
Don't tell me please, and girls to tease
And how my eyes did roam
And when a man, into my life, a woman came
No longer now a teasing game
And then the altar see

My children then, their fingers did a Steeple make
And through the doors their eyes to peek
Did they the altar see
Within their mind, what did they think, a Love so true
Watching proudly as they grew
Selecting what to see

My children now have children too, new Steeples make,
And through the doors, when their eyes peek
I wonder what they see
And slowly as the mem'ries fade, the years go by
Until the day, my altar see
And Time has slipped away

© Copyright 2012 MICHAEL HUGHES - All Rights Reserved
JerryPat2
Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975
South Louisiana
1 posted 2012-04-27 06:53 AM


"Selecting what to see."

I love that line in a poem which has many I could quote. Progression in the DNA chain marches on and holds a steady course toward death's door.

~*~ If they give you lined paper, write sideways. ~*~

Startime1955
Senior Member
since 2012-04-22
Posts 1072
Alberta, Canada
2 posted 2012-04-27 03:51 PM


*grin* I remember...'Here's the church and here's the steeple..." Ah yes those days went too fast...I think that are grandchildren just see us as wonderful and loving...time goes by but our minds and heart are forever young...a wonderful read
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