SHEILA CROSS

Published on 28/03/2012

SHEILA CROSS Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the mornings hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die. Goodbye Mum, Ian

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