Treasured Memories

I love when something positive can be gleaned from even a sad occasion.

While paying respects at a funeral home on Saturday, I happened upon this quote on a photo display.

“When a loved one becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.”

Is that not so true?

The Me I Used To Be

For those who like the poetry posts…(I hope it isn’t a duplicate)…


I miss the me I used to be,

the things I used to do,

I miss the energy and verve

the vim and vigor too.

I miss the way my feet could dance,

the way my body bent,

contorted to the Limbo

(under the pole I went).

I miss the feel of garden soil

where once my hands would dig

while scrunching down to plant the seeds

before my joints got big.

Yes, I miss the me I used to be

and all the things I did,

but even though the body’s old,

inside I’m still a kid.

©July 2014

Thanks to those who ask for the poems…I love poetry too.