Can you hear the lullaby
Or my mother’s touch feel.
Can you see the Alphabet
That I learned here to read.
Can you picture that first kiss,
Sense how it filled me with glee.
Can you listen the sweet warble
Of his first letter to me.
Can you tell the heartbreak
Didn’t fight shy of cutting deep.
Can you grasp the moments
Of which this bench holds memories.
Image courtesy of pixabay.com
She set out to ford the rill
fed by a spring of the rocky hill.
Took many a nap
in her woolen cap,
tuning in to the heart’s trill.