A Peaceful Place
Many generations of my family lie there.
The old oak trees are covered in moss;
It hangs from the limbs for the wind to toss.
A peaceful lake lies round the bend,
and the faded, old stones speak of life's end.
Their souls have flown, but their bones remain.
Year after year, always the same-
Waiting for us, when time comes to claim.
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Writing makes me realize even ordinary lives can have extrordinary moments every day; you just have to look and be aware of them. I wrote this to humor the memory of my departed family members, whom I love and miss dearly-especially my dad. After hearing the beautiful, true story of the spontaneous Christmas truce that took place at the beginning of WWI, I was inspired to write this poem in tribute to these men, who remind us that we are all God's children.