DEATH WILL COME

When Death will come

I know not when

in God’s hands

I put my trust

 

This year, next year

perhaps ten years  or more

one thing I am sure of

is that death will fall upon me

 

I hope in my garden

pruning Roses, quick

just like that go out

 

No need for tears

I had my joy I had my sadness

but I was loved

for certain by my Boys

 

Do not sit and weep

I will be around

maybe that Bird that sings

in the early morn

 

Life is never as one wants

but we accept our lot

and carry on

and make the most

of the precious times

when little hands

reached for the love I had

 

So weep not

but spare a moment now and again

and remember I had no favourite

I loved you my Sons

 

 

 

 

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