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My Trisha, My Sister
 

They say love is blind
and, while it's probably true,
my Trisha,
I have a sweet picture of you.
The thought of your smile
fills my spirit with glee.
My Trisha, my sister,
you're precious to me.

We talk on the 'phone
but it's always so brief.
That old meter ticks over,
causing both of us grief.
I wish I was with you,
your dear face to see.
My Trisha, my sister,
you're precious to me.


What comfort you give me
when troubles prevail.
You lighten my burdens,
put wind in my sail.
I'm glad I picked you
from that old family tree.
My Trisha, my sister,
you're precious to me.

You're my shoulder to lean on,
my listening ears.
We share happy laughter
and often stray tears.
Whenever I need it,
you pray faithfully.
My Trisha, my sister,
you're precious to me.

By cherryk

© 2017 cherryk (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - You Are Precious (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - You Are Precious (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - You Are Precious (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - You Are Precious (challenge has been closed)


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