Poem #3

It only seems like yesterday
I was so sure we both would play
With cars and trains and Christmas trees
And watch the stars and flying geese

We would our names write on the beach
Hoping the waves would never reach
Our footprints in the softest sand
As we walked on, just hand in hand

We would hear birds and smell the sea
And climb into an old oak tree
And look into the warmest flames
As we would play our funny games

The valley is where starts the day
The mountains high where we would stay
It would be only you and I
Why did I have to say goodbye

And you, my son, you were so brave
I had to bring you to your grave
You died so young, you did not know
The reasons that you had to go

Your eyes were closed, your skin so blue
The only thing that I could do
Was talk to you and sit and cry
And ask myself oh why, why, why

My plans are smashed
My life has crashed
I miss you so
I just don't know

I am a bereaved parent now
I really, really don't know how
To live my life and carry on
Without you here, my dearest son

The knife did hurt my soul so deep
The only thing I want to keep
Are memories of you and I
So few, so soft, so cold, goodbye



                        Richard van der Steen
                        Almere, The Netherlands
                        28-11-1995



Rivendell Resources grants anyone the right to reprint this information
without request for compensation so long as the copy is not used for
profit and so long as this paragraph is reprinted in its entirety with any
copied portion.  For further information contact: 


                      Cendra (ken'dra) Lynn, Ph.D.

   Rivendell Resources                    griefnet@rivendell.org
   PO Box 3272                                 griefnet@griefnet.org
   Ann Arbor, MI, 48106-3272                    (734) 761-1960
                                  
                              Grace happens