7.12.2024
Moving towards my eighty-seventh year There is so much forgetfulness I fear, Remembrances of Mother long ago And all the thousand ways She love me so. The diaries I wrote that I might retain Each smile She gave, each touch of Her hand, Her written words to help me understand And Her ways that helped my spirit grow, And Thee, O Lord, through Savitri, to know.
Poems 2024 (691)
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