My mother and father’s house
stands empty and lonely.
It’s walls contain only faint whispers
of what was once alive
with laughter and reminiscences
on Sunday afternoons.
They taught us
love
morality
honesty
and
compassion
for our fellow man.
But above all,
they taught us the importance
of being faithful to God
by example of their goodness.
I miss what we once shared
in our house—that is gone.
But nothing can erase
the river of memories
that flood my soul.
Those are eternal.
YOUR MOM AND DAD DID THEIR JOB WELL. THEY LEFT YOU ETERNAL MEMORIES, THAT BEGAN WITH THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD, WHICH WILL ALWAYS FLOOD YOUR SOUL AND BRING YOU TO A PLACE OF PEACE AND CONTENTMENT. THANKS FOR SHARING A WELL DONE WORK. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
...thoughts that uphold...Sunday memories...in revered walls of silence...still speak...in an every day world... and sometimes forgotten...is the eternal faith...which floods the soul with light.
You have penned...perhaps the wishes of many...on this page...to listen to the laughter they once heard...and in those walls...now hear no sound.
beautiful write and memories here David...
John
Rosetta was born in 1909 as the youngest of ten children. The family had more laughter than money and neighbors would knock on their door to ask, "Can we come in and laugh, too?"
This book is an autobiographical account of the lessons I learned about life and how I was able to apply them to inspire, motivate and empower others in my own work as a firefighter, as well in my daily life as a husband, a father and a man. When I w
TRUE STORY. Bella survived an abusive powerbroker father with organized crime ties, a drug-addicted mother and a physically/sexually abusive brother. Shocking & inspirational. When she couldn't cry, she tattooed a crying angel to cry for her.
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This reminded me of a Thomas Hardy Poem..The Self-Unseeing...
I love your work David...
the river of memories
that flood my soul." Beautiful piece.
Be always safe,
Karen
You have penned...perhaps the wishes of many...on this page...to listen to the laughter they once heard...and in those walls...now hear no sound.
beautiful write and memories here David...
John
Thanks for sharing them.