|by Mary Wacaster|
In my memories, shadows grow
to be the pleasant shades of life,
And friendships are the canopies
that filter out the strife,
From the slender twigs that bend
when storms began to blow,
To the peaceful shade of love
in the evening sun's warm glow.
For it is there stands the mighty oaks
where memories have been sown,
Together forming the deepest roots
whereby we never stand alone.