caption: Rose Gentle wears a necklace with a picture of her son Gordon as she
addresses the media at 10 Downing Street…after handing in a
petition demanding a public inquiry into the legality of the war in
Iraq, May 3, 2005. Rose’s son Gordon…was killed in Basra last June.
REUTERS/Russell Boyce

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image and words below the fold

By Heart
by John Thomas

The years pass like summer’s southern rain,
And time tends to gray the pain,
Bury the senses and blur the consequences?
Of leaving you.

The pictures hold no memories,
No tragedies ensue.
No longer can I taste the pleasure,
The treasure of loving you.

Until I caught you in the air,
A current so pure to assure my love.
Savor my hesitation,
Raze my concentration,
And (for a moment) still my heart.
Long enough to touch, taste, feel you again,
And tear my soul apart.

For I can lose sight of the sound of your pleas,
And escape the ease of your eyes.
But I’ll never forget the soft scent of your skin,
And the way that it touched mine.

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