MEMORIES
Memories, like falling leaves drift past my minds eye,
Bringing thoughts of joy and sorrow as they go fluttering by,
November is remembrance month of those we call dead,
And as the old memories swell some tears may be shed.

But what of those we know not, no memories linger long,
Lay forgotten, not thought about in some old love song?
They should be remembered, someone should really care,
Imagine the feeling of not being missed, a heart in despair!

If there are those who lie forgotten in some cold grave,
Whether they are young or old, were afraid or very brave,
I will form some memory that they might hold dear,
As I see the falling leaves I’ll bring forgotten souls some cheer.

As I wear my red poppy and remember those that I knew,
I’ll also think of others lying forgotten in the morning dew,
I saw a grave marked sadly, ‘An orphan boy of about two,
Killed by shrapnel’ , I thought, who is there to remember you?

(Millicent) Ann Margetson November 13, 2003