Thirty two years have come and gone, and now with time to reflect. Knowing the path my sisters chose, for them I have the greatest respect. I chose a different path in my life, and for this I don’t complain. I’ve seen the world and enjoyed my experiences, for this I’m not ashamed. But it seems I’ve really missed so much throughout these many years:Hugs and kisses, the families touch, the laughter and the tears.
Although we’ve had our separate lives, we share a common theme. Sisters are aware of each other’s hopes; they cherish each other’s dreams. As I get older and my life and the time move by so fast,I find myself looking at your pictures to remind me of the past. I realize that through the years, of the many friends I’ve made and left behind,That you, my wonderful sisters, you are my best friends, and you’ve been there all the time. Let’s take this time together to laugh, to cry, and remember,For we’ll always be close as sisters, whether we’re near or far apart.
A sister is a sister, forever in my heart.
Three Sisters by Francis I. Gillespie
We are three sisters. Three sisters are we. I love each of you,And I know you love me.
We’re not always together. Life sometimes keeps us apart,But we’re never separated. We’re in each other’s heart. Now I know we’ve had our troubles,But we always get through.
The real message is you love me,And I also love you. We have had lots of good timesThat we’ll never forget. Sometimes we worryAnd sometimes we fret. But if God ever gave meSomething special, you see,It might have been the blessing ofThree sisters are we. The Lord above has given me lotsOf happiness and glee,But the most special thing he did wasMake us sisters, all three.
My Sister, My Friend by Leann Stiegman
To me you are an angel in disguise. Full of intuition, you are intelligent and wise. Always giving and helping throughGood times and bad. You are the best friend I’ve ever had. If I had one wish, it would surely beTo give you as much as you’ve given to me. Though I’ve put our relationship through some cloudy days,You’ve been my sunshine in so many ways.
Through trials and tests, right by meYou stood,And you gave me your hand whenever you could. Thank you so much, my sister, my friend. My gratitude for you has no end.
Sister Of Mine by ToddMichael St.
Sister of mine, please know that I miss you,As miles seperate us in life as we roam. I close my eyes and we’re still together…Splashing in puddles as we skip toward home. Picking wish-flowers and making mud-pies,In fields of Summer, under apricot skies. Oh it really does seem like yesterday,And I’ll always remember us this way.
Sister of mine, please know that I love you,No distance on earth, could alter this truth. Not a day passes, that I don’t think of you,And far-away playgrounds in dreams of youth.
To My Sister by William Wordsworth
It is the first mild day of March:Each minute sweeter than beforeThe redbreast sings from the tall larchThat stands beside our door. There is a blessing in the air,Which seems a sense of joy to yieldTo the bare trees, and mountains bare,And grass in the green field.
My sister! (’tis a wish of mine)Now that our morning meal is done,Make haste, your morning task resign;Come forth and feel the sun. Edward will come with you;–and, pray,Put on with speed your woodland dress;And bring no book: for this one dayWe’ll give to idleness. No joyless forms shall regulateOur living calendar:We from to-day, my Friend, will dateThe opening of the year. Love, now a universal birth,From heart to heart is stealing,From earth to man, from man to earth:–It is the hour of feeling. One moment now may give us moreThan years of toiling reason:Our minds shall drink at every poreThe spirit of the season.
Some silent laws our hearts will make,Which they shall long obey:We for the year to come may takeOur temper from to-day. And from the blessed power that rollsAbout, below, above,We’ll frame the measure of our souls:They shall be tuned to love. Then come, my Sister! come, I pray,With speed put on your woodland dress;And bring no book: for this one dayWe’ll give to idleness.
Sister To Sister by Sydney Thompson Dobell
When I perceived that face which is a love,Two voices, like those two old nations, stroveWithin my heart, and the first-born gave placeAnd served the younger.
‘Ah this golden spaceDoth cage the airy pinions of my dove!And ah this value, which might prove and moreAnother love, seems simony to the graceOf ours!’ Thus while one passion doth protest,The other cries: ‘I care not how it be!For, givest thou much or little, worst or best,Nor am I richer nor thou dispossest;My fond subtraction is still thine in me,And all thy dear remainder mine in thee!”