My Garden Of Gold

trying to let go

     Childhood memories filled with life, of summers fishing and catching toads, gigging frogs near our swimming hole. Bailing hay and stacking it high, digging ginseng on the north-east slope, then picking gooseberries for the perfect pie.

 

All of this on my grandparent’s farm is not but a memory of days long gone. Now the only reason I cross this path is  for heavy memories filled with death as my family plot steadily grows and becomes my garden filled with gold. Now these living stones are a reminder to me  that I will rejoin them one day on Heaven's streets.

Reviews

[madmocha]

You know the term 'sucker punch'? You get clobbered without ever seeing it coming and end up sitting on the floor wondering what happened... That second stanza was an emotional sucker punch. I had tears before I realized it. Had to get up and head for the library restroom. ::smile:: This writing is one of the nuggets of gold in the garden of your poetry. Maybe even more for those of us who have experienced the bitter sweet of life's ebb and flow.

[Allen Smuckler]

I have a feeling Cherrie that you are going to teach us all about life on an Oklahoma farm... This is such a warm and expressive piece...I loved your view on the dearly departed....."my garden filled with gold". Sure, heavy memories, but gold IS heavy.
beautifully penned.
allen

[Ron]

This nugget is pure gold and is shared by so very many good and sorrowing people. God bless Cherrie in her time of loss and give her Your strength.

[Ed Hart]

oh cherrie, you have a way of bringing the heart to bear

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Oh gosh what can I say... very emotionally in depth... seems the older we get the more precious memories can become when the loved ones in them pass on. But also they become a bit bitter cause we know we can't go back.

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

It's amazeing to have wonderful precious memories! Memories is what keeps life going! Excellent poem!

[Samuel Dickens]

Those memories are precious, and one day we'll all be part of someone's equally precious memories. The cycle of life goes on, full of both beauty and sadness.