She raised nine children <br />in that house at Laurel. <br />An eyesore to the drivers <br />passing, on their way to Canada, <br />so baby-powder blue. <br /> <br />But looking back, <br />it suited all of you. <br /> <br />Ralph was a linesman <br />for the company, <br />communication is <br />the future, so he said, <br />and often gone, <br />but always home <br />for Christmas. <br /> <br />He died last year, <br />I was not at the grave. <br /> <br />Your heart of gold <br />was always happy <br />to behold <br />the inner beauty <br />of all people. <br />You took the time <br />that had not even <br />been created <br />and loved the world, <br />with not a mean word <br />in your repertoire. <br /> <br />It stopped that night <br />as gently as you lived <br />as if to not disturb <br />your last night's sleep. <br />And you have gone now <br />to the other, better side. <br /> <br />I have not seen your grave <br />but rest in peace <br />and confidence. <br />I will.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/naomi-bird/
