Her Autumn

Her Autumn Salt and pepper hair in wisps and thin, criss cross lines on brow and round the chin Eyelids lower like the setting sun resting pools of blue, their day's work done. Like October trees, what leaves remain the colours in her sorrow, in her pain. Within that bony tissue paper shell her kindness and love still intently dwell. Slow breathing and soft pulse inside that frame her soul sat back and played the waiting game. We watched her cast off on that July day in peace, her course set, gently float away. Sailed over the horizon, seeming gone as ships do, she was really sailing on blown by faith's wind to a long promised land she stepped ashore and took her father's hand. ( a sort of reprise on my poem 'Are you there God?') ** Thanks to CayCay Jennings for helping me tidy it up. Luv ya x **