Grief Poem - We Heard a Meadowlark

We grieving folks may read a card; takes us an extra 'mile'.

Each word still holds a special thought, which still brings on a smile.

The precious gift of love 'they' gave, blessed us who did receive.

And in our summers bright sun light, they don't want us to grieve.

But sometimes we so sadly long for all our yesterdays;

Their chats are missed, their kindness, too, and understanding ways.

Sometimes a memory sheds warm light, that "light" shines in the dark;

And eases pain, which flies away, like song of Meadow Lark.

A brightness in our house is gone, a voice so loved, is stilled;

A place is vac...