Friday, 20 November 2015

A Widows Wake

Dawn.
Another lonely awakening to the mornings dew,
Another breakfast for but one, not two,
Another sleepless night and restless morn,
Another one less suit with tie not worn:
For one suit that still remains on he,
Is on my love who sleeps eternally,
Swallowed by the hand they call the sea,
Off the coast of Dead Mans Plea.

The birds hath not sung a brighter tune,
The dogs hath not howled under the half lit moon,
The trees hath not sway to natures song,
The road hath not taken seems but twice as long:
The laying of flower petals off the misty shore,
A step off the bow, sank to the ocean floor,
I find myself a knocking on heavens door,
To join my husband, my love, forevermore.

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