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