When Death Comes To Call
In the silence; haunting echoes I can hear
A choir of angels soft and sweet,
Gently, I wipe your mournful tears.
Eternity beckons, drawing you near,
Strains of harmonious refrains that repeat,
In the silence; haunting echoes I can hear.
Worries and regrets no longer will appear,
Heaven has prepared an eternal royal seat,
Gently, I wipe your mournful tears.
Rest my dear, put aside your doubt and fear,
Though shadows fall, you rise and claim your feat,
In the silence; haunting echoes I can hear.
Regret no more, the lonely years,
You will be home, an eternal place, replete,
Gently, I wipe your mournful tears.
A vision shrouds the room and it appears
There is a table being prepared, a blessed fete,
In the silence; haunting echoes I can hear,
Gently, I wipe your mournful tears.
Date: March 1, 2022
For: Original Villanelle Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L. Milton Hankins
Placed 10th in contest
Was the Poem of the Day (POTD)on March 3rd, 2022
Copyright © Paulette Calasibetta | Year Posted 2022
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