There’s a secret place called Memory
Where we meet family and friends
And enjoy the pleasure of their presence
And the times we shared back then.

This secret place called Memory
Holds joy and sadness, too
As we journey back to yesteryear
And the days that we all knew.

They traveled on and left us here
And no longer can we see
Those we loved – they’re hid from view
Except in a place called Memory.

So call them back as oft you like
Forgotten they should never be
For when we’ve crossed this vale of life
We’ll live again in our loved one’s hearts
In a place called Memory!

This poem was written by my great grandmother. Mrs. Polly Mitchell is now dead, but her spirit lives on in Memory. She died at two in the morning on Sunday, November 15, 2008 at the age of ninety. She went peacefully. The woman that had a huge impact on many people’s lives is now where she has worked to get all of her life. I can’t help but be happy for her, and post a sort of “monument” to her on Ficlets. Thank you.