Beloved montage of flesh and bone
whose breathless vessel lies alone,
quietly positioned beneath the grass
in a maplewood casket lined in brass.

Vibrant blue eyes forbidden to see,
languish in darkness for eternity.
Silken brown tresses forever frame
a youthful form age cannot maim.

Within the realm of dreaming sleep
upon the threshold love does creep.
Fingertips caress an ethereal face,
as arms purloin one more embrace.

Destiny's amusement, a fool forlorn,
bound forever to grieve and mourn.
Damn the Angels who gloat in Hell,
and as for me, only time will tell.

COPYRIGHT 2003
Laura Mae Oldham-Brownell
 
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