My Dearest Ellen
Tomorrow is uncertain as the hour,
Whilst each minute pulses borrowed time,
And breathes, seconds closer to my rest,
I praise thy living love, nestled in my breast.
Attend, knells a distant wistful tolling;
Forsooth, only thy love can disavow,
So phantoms lose their ghostly grasp on me,
To lend a moment, nay eternity;
And if time becomes a gauzy mist,
Upon a hearkened final fading beat;
Remember all you were to me that hour,
Blooms more beautiful, than any flower.
My love, my love, a moment shall I dream,
Til midst the stars, I reminisce agleam.
Copyright © Claire de la Grange