A Poem to Ian on his Birthday from Sis, Mum and Vivian

Jul 22, 2007 10:50

For Ian; Thinking of you on your birthday...

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory,
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

From Vivien, Karen & Mom


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