I suppose all has been said......
How many tears were shed now the eyes are dry.
A last phone call, a morning kiss, a hand held briefly.
Memories as shadows in darkness always with us.
We weep no more for those we love and are gone,
Close to our heart memories such as these.
A cupboard full of clothes, a birthday gift all we have left.
Traces of her perfume drifting on a late summer breeze.
We weep no more for those we love and are gone.
No longer do we face each night waiting for the dawn.
Sleep no longer sooths the pain of loss that gnaws inside.
His papers still at his desk, yellowed by age, unmoved.
We weep no more as there is nothing left to give.
Our loss so great, constant, our grief too much to bear.
His books we kept, his scribbled notes saying 'I love you'
Her voice now faint, distant, but always there.
Nothing relieves the hurt inflicted in their passing.
But we know they would not have wished our pain and sorrow.
Our memories a link in comfort, of good times remembered.
They live with us for ever, on their today and our tomorrow.
Poetry by Sid Gardner
Read 716 times
Written on 2011-09-12 at 01:52
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Their Tomorrow.
We weep no more for those we love and are gone,How many tears were shed now the eyes are dry.
A last phone call, a morning kiss, a hand held briefly.
Memories as shadows in darkness always with us.
We weep no more for those we love and are gone,
Close to our heart memories such as these.
A cupboard full of clothes, a birthday gift all we have left.
Traces of her perfume drifting on a late summer breeze.
We weep no more for those we love and are gone.
No longer do we face each night waiting for the dawn.
Sleep no longer sooths the pain of loss that gnaws inside.
His papers still at his desk, yellowed by age, unmoved.
We weep no more as there is nothing left to give.
Our loss so great, constant, our grief too much to bear.
His books we kept, his scribbled notes saying 'I love you'
Her voice now faint, distant, but always there.
Nothing relieves the hurt inflicted in their passing.
But we know they would not have wished our pain and sorrow.
Our memories a link in comfort, of good times remembered.
They live with us for ever, on their today and our tomorrow.
Poetry by Sid Gardner
Read 716 times
Written on 2011-09-12 at 01:52
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
