"Bubbling up in our own good time-- online."
Groundwaters Publishing, LLC
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Volume 1 Issue 4, Page 31
Volume 8 Issue 3, Page 22
Volume 8 Issue 3, Page 22
I slip into the nursery with fear and dread,
With a heavy heart I see it – the empty bed.
There was a time, it was a joy to behold,
When my arms were full with a child to enfold
It’s now a collector of bears and of dolls.
There is nary a sound wafting off the walls.
Still I remember from the days of the past,
The love of a child and those memories last.
With a heavy heart I see it – the empty bed.
There was a time, it was a joy to behold,
When my arms were full with a child to enfold
It’s now a collector of bears and of dolls.
There is nary a sound wafting off the walls.
Still I remember from the days of the past,
The love of a child and those memories last.
| The Empty Bed By Mildred “Millie” Thacker Graves |