My Dearest

For me more than you, but if you get something from it all well and good. All black and white photos taken by my father who was a photographer when i was small.

Poem by Christina Rossetti

When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.

Category:

People & Blogs

Tags:

• for
• my
• mum
• chirstina
• rossetti

[fehquig]

Lovely poem and photos... How did I miss this?

[FinalTaboo]

:) Thanks, and I have no idea. Sorry for the delay in response, I was taking a small break from all this.

[dashpoet]

Lovely sentimental rendering, a fitting poem.

[FinalTaboo]

I suspect you use the word sentimental in a different way from me, so thanks. Aren't words strange things?

[dashpoet]

'of or prompted by feelings of tenderness, sadness, or nostalgia' is the first definition I find, thinking about your comment. Pretty much sums up what I was trying to say!

[FinalTaboo]

Sounds good to me :)

[fehquig]

I understand...

[FinalTaboo]

Not really my cup of tea.

[Dadalama]

You must like the song Finnegan's Wake?

[FinalTaboo]

Thanks Pino.