Erimar Margaret Jessie MacPherson

My Private Resting Place - Poem by Erimar Margaret Jessie MacPherson

I walk by the banks of the river Ythan
The river now scampering along
Running past lovely Newburgh
On to Pitmillan Fovern
The house with the three chimneys
Where I was born one January morning
Past the ancient church
With lovely people resting there
A steep path leads to the new retiring place
A super archway with names of
By gone war heroes
The benches beside it unoccupied
Except for the spirits of those gone before
I pass through the large iron gates
Down the path
A private world where I can reflect
Without interruption on past and future
Wrapped in my thoughts
I suddenly became aware I was no longer alone
My piggy stone on my resting place
Was looking at me asking
How long will I be here alone
Without you Erimar
I bent down and stroked my pink Maggie Piggy
I assure her Uncle Robert is rest beside her
I give her a wash some fresh flowers
I leave her smiling and my mind at rest
Then with a jolt I'm back
In the real world

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Read poems about / on: january, pink, river, running, future, alone, war, house, people, world, flower, hero, smile

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003

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