I Hope
I hope when I take my final breath
it will be in my dreams.
In the country places I used to go,
the woods, meadows and streams.
The summer day is bright and sunny
a light warm breeze cuts the air.
Rippling water echoes against the river bank
as it flows over rocks and long green hair.
I see my parents are sitting close by
on a blanket by the riverside.
My sister and brothers play in the shallows
splashing, and chanting nursery rhymes.
My daughter and sons are also there,
and my grandchildren too.
Everything is like a bygone Sunday afternoon,
so peaceful a memory to take with you.
poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
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