He hung his cloak upon the hook
And snook into her room
He gave a welcome smile and then
His love lit up the room.
The visitor sat beside her as she slept
He smoothed her pain away
He gently mopped her fevered brow
And for her soul did pray.
The sunset glowing in the west
The day drew to a close
He took her tortured soul in hand
And exchanged it for a rose.
As morning sun lit up the room
Her family finally gathered
Her soul had passed across by now
Shared memories were all that mattered.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
This is for d’Verse poetics.
