by Jan 1, 2004Poetry

How long need she wait?
He is dead, and rests beyond this world,
A King of truth, a memory of glory and honour;
Yet she remains, beyond the fading of her years,
And wanders alone, kissed by tears.

In happiness dwelleth she,
Untill mortality became, just as the winter,
And she longs for him, and happiness fell;
And she weeps alone to the oncoming night,
A widows lament, her plight.

I hope for her, that death pass’d swift,
So she lingered not in that world,
And dreams became, as sometimes to;
As she rests among the frozen dew;


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