Tuesday, February 3, 2026

Memory, PAD 22-3, sonnet

 

Like a Song

 

I can’t believe that so much time has passed.

The twenty-five years have flown by so fast.

The first one who stayed with us, frail, and small,

She could not see, hear, talk or walk at all.

 

She weighed only thirty pounds, twelve-years old.

She was light enough to carry and hold.

Caused feelings that I’ve never felt before.

Somehow, she was one I grew to adore.   

 

She had such beautiful, big, dark-brown eyes.

And when she smiled, it came as a surprise.

She clearly favored a warm bubble bath.

Her life was certainly no primrose path.

 

She did not stay with us for very long.

Her memory still lingers like a song.

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