Paul Gerard Reed

Your Face

I have no graveside to visit

No sombre place where the grass just grows

No hallowed ground with sadness implicit

No flower holder for a rose

 

Nowhere to stand in silence and remember

Nowhere to listen to the fall of rain

No headstone, ashes or dying ember

Nowhere to go and feel the pain

 

Instead I will find quietness somewhere

Instead I will make my very own place

Where the breezes soft or high winds rare

Will help me remember your face