I think about my sweet parents, now old,
And myself, every day growing older,
Hoping to create a gentle and tender essence
That will survive when we part this existence,
Like Shakespeare’s sonnets written four hundred years ago
Still leaving a magical afterglow
For lovers and poets yet unborn.
Great poems and great memories are forever and I believe in forever.... Your eloquence becomes you, Uriah.. Kind regards, Sandra
Absolutely Uriah, we must keep on keep on and you do it so romanticly and with such ease to please every palette. Smiling at you, Tai
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful hope and in your case, Uriah, that goal is reached. That doesn't mean you should stop writing, however! Thank you for this.