Death of My Beloved
Twelve o’ clock and all’s well.
Shouts the time keeper.
With the final stroke of the bell,
my Beloved bids farewell.
She is now thee eternal sleeper.
It is Gods will that her heart be still.
Her hand from mine I release.
Now she is at peace.
I give her one last kiss.
Her love I shall truly miss.
At last from her illness she is free.
I cry mournfully.
As her spirit floats toward the sky
I hear a faint goodbye!
Stunned, how can I stand to be alone?
In a house that is no longer a home.
Copyright © Willie A. Buchanan | Year Posted 2015
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