What are the first memories to fade
The touch of their hand
The sound of their voice
The look on their face
Maybe it's the feeling you had
When you were with them
How they made you feel
That what you were was important
As each year tips over to the next
More memories are made
But what is left of the old
Are treasured until the end.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very beautifully said! the memory of this poem shall never fade Until I'm dead