The Way
by James Ebb Huggins, Jr.

There was a small cemetery on an Arkansas hill.
A checkpoint to guide my way.
The sign that marked it was overgrown.
The graveled road to it was almost gone.

As I searched for the place to steer my course,
I noticed the many head stones there.
Eroded with time and darkened with age,
Each held the secret to another page.

A page in time that has gone by.
A season I will never know.
But the souls of  those that rest there,
Sends a message that I'd like to share.

As I gazed at the smaller eroded stones,
In line with the two larger ones.
I noted the ages, they were so very young,
Their lives on earth were short to be sung.

The larger stones, projecting strength and pride,
Guarded the smaller ones aligned by their side.
With nurturing concern, they still provided care,
To their little ones sleeping peacefully there.

I though of the love represented by these,
In the cemetery on an Arkansas hill.
  A love song that all can sing.
  A love story with a caring ring.

A love song of a man and his mate,
And the little ones that they brought to this earth.
A love story from those who clearly say,
"May the story of our love - help show you the way".

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