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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Contest Entry · #1673906
An older poem that still holds true of an endless love.
UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

I stood there, watching them together,
holding hands and whispering softly.
The old man had tears in his eyes,
his heart was most surely breaking.

Her silver hair drifted across her face,
with a tender touch he brushed it back.
She lost weight, now light as a feather,
her skin drawn tightly against her bones.

Her silk robe was now much too large
for her shrinking frame, but in his eyes,
she was the lovely bride of years past.
Love holds tight the memories of youth.

I went to her side, checking her pulse.
She has started heavy bleeding again.
Her face was ashen, the color of slate,
her time on earth was growing so short.

The old man looked up at me, smiling
through tears, and he whispered to me,
"It's all right, we know that it is soon over,
but our love will last until we meet again."

I left them alone to share the little time
they had together, their love was showing
in the quiet way they looked at each other,
Her frail voice echoing "until we meet again."

Countrymom
5/16/10


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