Upon whose sweet sorrow will I cast these
Inscriptions that can never ease the pain;
Eternity now lies beneath these trees,
And never to be lost or found again.
The stone is standing sombre, cold as night;
Among the fading roses shadows play.
The trauma of the angels’ hopeless plight;
A memory once treasured dies away.
I’ll think of you in things we used to share
Instead; the places that we used to love,
The scent of flowers in the summer air,
The soft white snow cascading from above.
For me, your memory is not that stone;
I hold you in my mind and heart alone.
I’m proud to present the first sonnet written by my daughter, aged 13. It was an English homework assignment, so she’ll get ‘official’ feedback from her teacher, but I know she’d be thrilled to hear from the WordPress poetry community. Thank you! N.