Poetry/Short Stories

Stories untold


Mama was laid

Underneath the red flowers

Where gentle wind blows

Overlooking the green mountains

With stories untold



Hold stories untold


Hearts lifted

And hearts broken



And sophistication

Of pride

And shame

Of regret

Of freedom

And bondage too


They hold more

Than meets the eye

Headstones hold stories


Men and women of honor.

Susan McMillan

19 thoughts on “Stories untold

  1. I love walking through cemeteries. That may seem a bit strange, but I love it for all the words you used here. Untold stories of that person and their life here on this earth. It sends my mind wandering through all the possibilities.

    1. I am scared of cemeteries even though I know it’s silly. Many of my loved ones lay there. I often wonder though what their stories truly were but yet I know that God is sovereign. He knows.πŸ’

  2. A little teary eyed after reading. I took my precious Mama every week to Memorial Park, where Papa is laid to rest. Now she lies beside him, and I go regularly to put flowers. πŸ’πŸ’œπŸ’πŸ’œ

    1. Yes it was. My little sister was only 6 months old. I am thankful that she carried me in her womb and gave me a gift of a mother’s love and touch for those few years.

    1. You are very kind. Thank you again and again. It’s my readers that inspire me to keep writing. Simply giving life to words within. Thank you for your support on. I am very greatful πŸ™πŸ™πŸ™

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