Just as a priestess tells her beads
We touch our precious memories o’er,
We county them gently one by one
Dear things a lifetime holds in store,
Memorial Day revives our thoughts
Full many a wreath is damp with tears,
Altho’ time mitigates our grief
As we go upward through the years.
Our ears still to their tones attuned
We visualize each form and face,
As tho’ no time has intervened
Once more our homes & boards they grace.
Their mannerisms see again
Their smiles to fortitude have led,
We’d not erase e’en if we could
Our cherished Memories of the Dead.
a pioneer woman