Nutdeep
Shared on Sun, 05/25/2008 - 23:43Lest we forget what this day is really about.
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
- Mary Frye (1932)
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow;
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain;
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush;
I am in the graceful rush.
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow;
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain;
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush;
I am in the graceful rush.
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
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Comments
Submitted by agedsandshark on Sun, 05/25/2008 - 23:53
Submitted by Nutdeep on Mon, 05/26/2008 - 00:04
Submitted by DualShock_1 on Mon, 05/26/2008 - 14:39
Submitted by Anonymous (not verified) on Tue, 09/27/2011 - 02:46