In my heart there is a scrapbook,
Some pictures of my treasured friends,
When I feel down, it's there I look
To feel their company again.
I find that I remember best
Those precious friends who left a mark,
Their care apart from all the rest,
Their willing help when times were dark.
To all my woes they listened well
And spoke with the kindest regard.
They gave their hand those times I fell,
And inspired me to move forward.
Though far apart still friendship bonds
Connect us strongly through the years,
Until at last Time's shifting sands
Take us away from all those dear.
Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~ 12.11.14
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
True friendship is worship- they are precious indeed