Down the old dirt path where the willows grow
Where the gravel stops and the old crick slows
Where the sun sets late and the West wind blows
There you will find me, by the corn in rows
When the weather changes from rain to snow
And on the high plains the bucks chase the doe
I’ll be watching you still, just so you know
Though my flesh remains, buried cold and low
Someday we’ll embrace within that warm glow
Where golden streets wind and crystal seas flow
Where pain is no more and there is no woe
We’ll stand hand in hand upon that plateau
Where the sun ne’er sets and cool breezes blow
We’ll live forevermore where death doesn’t go
((August 15th,2015))
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem