Those we love don’t go away, They walk beside us every day, Unseen, unheard, but always near; Still loved, still missed, & always dear.

By E.E. Cummings if there are any heavens my mother will (all by herself) have one. It will not be a pansy heaven nor a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but it will be a heaven of black red roses my father will be(deep like a rose tall like a rose) standing near my (swaying over […]

By Emily Dickinson She died, —this was the way she died; And when her breath was done, Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun. Her little figure at the gate The angels must have spied, Since I could never find her Upon the mortal side.