wpid-Screenshot_2012-12-01-21-40-03-1.png
My Grandfather, “Big Daddy.”  WS Patton

~

Ghosts

A Time Called Life and A Whispered Memory

A faint thought of him who lived for someone else’s time

Who came just to give seventy years or so

A mirror of human legends, his ancestral DNA

He, who keeps the coded message traveling forward

Perhaps, the pressing migration continues, simply for the master’s play,

He sends the past into the future, on every single day.

~

Surprisingly, the future has not stopped.

A single day, in the past, though vague and forgotten,

The destiny vanished, unseen for henceforward moments,

The memories cupping in hands, without any present success

And, recollections blow away, in the air, like doves take flight

Escaping the capturing minds, as it lifts from sight.

History books tell of half-truths, fortitude and human might.

However, the ass received the credit for surviving plights.

~

Forgotten are the souls of whispered memories

No longer lingering on Earth with hopes of remembering

Soaring to Pleiades and joining the gathering hosts

Remains of lives from humans who once inhabited Earth

And, there on a constellation found,

All unrecognized ghosts of God’s heavenly kingdom,

The child uttered a dream where the ghosts haunted her visions.

There was rejoicing resounding, from the echoing vaulted chasm,

As she unlocked the door allowing their shadowy freedoms

~

The time came for all voices try singing together

And if this shan’t work

and praying for your brothers

Then The Sun will set with The Moon to follow

And the songs of mankind will be lost forever.

~

Bonnie Jennings's photo.

This picture is of my grandfather, WS Patton “Big Daddy,” roughly, ~ 192

By Bonnie Jennings ©2015 All Rights Reserved

~

Older version

A Time Called Life and A Whispered Memory

A faint thought of him who lived for someone else’s time

Who came just to give seventy years or so

A mirror of human past ancestral DNA

He who keeps the coded message traveling forward

Perhaps, the migration continues simply for the master’s play,

He sends the past into the future on every single day.

~

Surprisingly, the future has not stopped.

A single day in the past though vague and forgotten,

The destiny vanished, unseen for henceforward moments,

The memories cupping in hands without present success

And, blows away in the air like doves in flight

Escaping the capturing mind and lifts from all sight

~

Forgotten are the souls of whispered memories

No longer lingering on Earth with hopes of remembering

Soaring to Pleiades and joining the gathering hosts

Remains of lives from humans once inhabited

And, there long forgotten old ghosts.

~

Thanking all lovely thoughts today

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