Willie A. Buchanan Poet Rhyme

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.

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Jan Allison March 26, 2015 at 7:21 PM beautifully penned but so so sad - i can relate to this so much my mum has moved into a care home she couldn't face being in the house without dad being their - loss is so hard to cope with:-( Hugs jan xx 7 xx