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This poem is by MIKE CARTER, he couldn't send it so I am doing it for you, hope I'm forgiven. Ann.

Was it you who closed the door
when I could hide my tears no more
Was it you who kissed my brow
when I had forgotten how
Did the wind sing in the trees
One lasting melody
Did you smile at my frown
From up there looking down
Was it you who taught me how
What matters is the now
Was it you who took my hand
To help me understand
Did the years pass us by
Were we good did we try
Did the rain conceal the tears
Born of smaller fears
Was it you who said goodbye
As I tried to ask you why
Was it you who seemed to know
That the time was right to go
Did you hear me whisper softly
As I turned to leave the room
Was there just the slightest scent
From the lavender in bloom
Was it you who left me here
With my journey incomplete
Was it you who put the food upon my plate
For me to eat
Will in time at that passes
Not corrode your memory
For as I look upon you one last time
I see images of me

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Last few words: 
Editing stage: 


beautiful x

I thought so too,
he has all the pathos and sensitivity to the occasion,
losing ones mother,
when one is mostly alone is tough,
he said it well.


Love Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

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