
The Language of Us
Doris Falidis-Nickolas’ poetry beautifully captures love, loss, and remembrance, offering comfort to those navigating grief.
RAN R-54004 They have no grave but the Cruel sea. No flowers lay at their head. A rusty hulk is their tombstone. Afast on the ocean bed.
They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them. Lest We Forget
R I P Old Shipmate
Sympathy to the family my thoughts are with you all.
Mick (Chopper) Chopping
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