Sentimental Sunday :: Meadows of Heaven

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A picture is a poem without words.
Horace
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Dear Photograph . . .
oh, how I wish he could ride right out of your borders
and into that pasture again . . .
thank you for holding onto that moment in time . . .
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In the meadow of life
My acre of heaven . . .
In a place called home
Sailing the waves of past . . .
Rocking chair without a dreamer
A wooden swing without laughter
Sandbox without toy soldiers
Yuletide without the Flight . . .
Meadows of Heaven . . .
by
Nightwish
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Over the pallid sea,
and the silvery mist of the meadows.
Silently one by one,
in the infinite meadows of heaven,
Blossomed the lovely stars,
the forget-me-nots of the angels.
Longfellow