There is a ring that's on my hand,
it's seen a lot of life.
It traveled across the ocean,
when dad made mom his wife.
A soldier's bride, unsure inside,
of how she would adjust,
but with her husband by her side,
her heart was filled with trust.
The ring, across the ocean came,
for miles on the waves.
My mom left England far behind,
her family in their graves.
Her brother perished in the war,
her mom and dad did too.
She had her things, her wedding ring,
a life to start anew.
As I grew up her wedding band
would always fascinate.
She once said, that when I wed,
"It's yours,there's no debate!"
So when love came into my life,
I married with her ring.
Just a plain little band of gold,
yet such a precious thing.
Now that she's gone and my dad too,
this ring serves to remind,
how love led to the sweetest life
there ever was to find.
I feel her spirit close to me,
this ring is our connection,
and all the memories it holds,
love, trust, family, affection.
The ring will bear my stories too,
one day I'll pass it down,
to my youngest daughter
when her true love, she has found.
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