If you could have something named after you, what would it be?
In all modesty, there is nothing I would like named after me. I would instead just like to be remembered for who I am or what I was.
No Names in Stone
In all modesty, I must admit,
No bridges, no streets, no plaques well-lit
No echo carved in steel or stone,
No special garden where seeds are sown.
Let no grand halls then bear my name,
Nor towers rise to stake my claim.
For what am I but dust and breath,
A fleeting step, a whispered depth?
Remember me, if you so will,
Not for a mark on land or hill,
But for the warmth my heart has shown,
The love I’ve shared, the seeds I’ve sown.
A story told, a laugh recalled,
A kindness given, great or small,
These are enough; let these remain,
More lasting than engraved acclaim.
Please note this blog is written in British English!
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© Richard J Kirk, writing as Joseph R Mason – 2025. If you want to know why, see: https://josephmasonauthor.com/about/
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Some people leave behind a statue. Others leave behind a warm chair where stories were told.
Your words feel like soft footsteps on a dusty floor—quiet but lasting.
We forget names, but we remember how someone made tea just right when the day was too bitter.
Real memory doesn’t live in stones. It hides in the corners of old laughter and in the silence between two friends who understand.
This kind of memory doesn’t rust. It grows like a small plant between cracks—quiet, steady, and real.
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Your review is far better than my post, thank you.
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That means a lot coming from you. I just wrote what your words made me feel—like hearing an old melody that stays in the air long after it’s over.
Your post lit the spark. I just followed its warmth.
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