Becky...you fabulous, original, brave and feisty, big-hearted, brilliant woman. I will miss you. My soul will endeavour to remember that 'hope is the thing with feathers' and my heart will forever remember those amazing conversations over a glass or several of that "good almost bordering on excellent claret" - at The Ladbroke Arms 15 years ago. Thank you for open-handed opportunities given. Love always from Frankie B.
Frankie
1st May 2017
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Poems by Mary Elizabeth Frye : 1 / 1
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep - Poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye
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Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Mary Elizabeth Frye
Jan
29th April 2017
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies
Jan
27th April 2017