Glorious Love

Time has shewn his face, but free
A date the waiting soul to be.

Upon thy bed he lay barbed to the sky
She wonders if it's time to say goodbye. 

His finger folds a curl on her hand
It's if as though both two should understand. 

One last look his eyes bid to a view
Her loving face he'll miss by morning dew.

Sleep my love the whispering voice he hears
And finally with eyes closed, life disappears.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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