|
Post by Nuala Bowtitt on Mar 9, 2009 20:47:41 GMT
LAND OF REPLENISHMENT
Holding her hand, feels the pulse feebly marching on. Stroking the silver hair, once raven black. Thinking of hurtful words he should have never said. Too late by far now to call them all back. Watching the life ebbing out of her body Once lithe and beautiful, firing desire. Powerless to keep her, his efforts are all in vain, Even appeals to a power much higher Appear to go unheard. His prayer, still unanswered, Hovers about on his lips now unkissed. How many times had he thought she was wonderful, Took aim to tell her but somehow had missed. Sorrowful tears splash the tubes that are keeping her Tied to this life by a single silk thread. Oh what a comfort if he’d just been able To hear all the words going round in her head.
“ Silly old so and so! What are you crying for? I knew you loved me. You showed me each day. We just got too old and I couldn’t keep up with you. Now it is time and I must go away. In spirit, my darling, I’m taking you with me For you gave me happiness beyond compare. I’m soon on my way to the Land of Replenishment. When you’re ready, you’ll find me. I’ll wait for you there.”
Some sorrowful days he would have to endure With cold, black despair in his lead-heavy heart Until one fine day, he would be by her side In the Land of Replenishment, never to part.
|
|
|
Post by Lou Briccant on Mar 11, 2009 15:45:10 GMT
It has taken some time for you to write on here again, but this poem made the wait all worthwhile. Brilliant as ever.
Lou. xXx
|
|
|
Post by stanislav on Jul 4, 2009 19:02:38 GMT
I love your words, your feelings, the heart wrenching sobs that pour from your pen.
|
|