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She came to me in my dreams again last night
as she so very often does.
She was as graceful and as beautiful as ever.
I recall fondly the delicate fragrance of her hair
As she giggled at me.
I remember the softness of her touch
As she caressed my young blonde hair.
(For you see in that dream I am always young…)
I could almost smell the apple pie baking in the oven
As I sat at the old kitchen table,
Contently supping my mug of drinking chocolate.
But most of all I could hear her singing,
Precisely like the angel she was.
Crooning our favorite Irish lullaby
As she so often did.
That song haunts me to this very day
And perpetually brings a tear to my eye,
A tear of joy…
For you see,
Although she has been gone
For almost fifteen years,
I shall never for one single moment forget
My mother’s eternal love…
http://www.fiftiesweb.com/stpats/toora.htm
(The Irish Lullaby)
P. S. Gifford
psgifford@earthlink.net
www.psgifford.com
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