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Array
(
[sid] => 181039
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => ~Whispers of Spring~
[time] => 2015-04-21 11:19:27
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Its almost been a year now since you passed away. Ironic I always thought, when I heard you say, "I hope I make it till Spring", you did then you died, The flowers beginning to bloom the tree's forming buds and wildflowers placed on your grave trumpets sound,wind blowing in the pine the coo of the Dove near by. Spring again, the Tetons poking their heads across the azure sky. Tulips of bright red dancing bee and butterfly. The Robins perched on the fence hopping and singing their song and the Dove's they are a calling a peaceful but mournful song. Lots of changes this past year and we pulled out your old lawn sitting chair. I found your old fishing poles we strung some beads on some of the line. In a week we will be going to visit your grave in the sober place where peaceful rest remains near the foothills of the mountains. Where the tall lofty pine sway in crisp Idaho winds and the Doves will gather again to sing sitting on pine branch near your grave. Wildflowers will be placed, maybe a word or two. A gathering with our loved ones soon a smile a tear, a kiss on the wind and become one once more with the Whispers of Spring. [comments] => 10 [counter] => 410 [topic] => 43 [informant] => shelby [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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