Barely fifteen painful years
gone by,
maybe less, the second time
it was stood I
choking,
fighting back tears
unsuccessfully trying,
at the remains of someone,
other than
my mother's,
equally dear to me, since
Nineteen Sixty-Three,
staring.
I couldn't help chuckling
on sighting
a beloved one,
my favourite younger sister,
a friend beyond compare,
Lilian,
lovely lass,
generous,
of hurts easily oblivious,
brilliant, sublime, charismatic,
yet self-effacing,
and a rare presence
of mind commanded,
sickness and pain with
courage bore,
she never thought I'll bury,
alas, from
out of the blue,
serenely in a coffin
inexplicably
lying at
an Air Force Base morgue,
vividly
our last hug
one year ago or so
recalling,
mysteriously, back at me
now a wry smile
smiling.
I, awkwardly, the one standing
alone,
she, eloquently,
with angels and saints
sweet melodies
delightfully,
to The One from whom
nothing is hidden,
singing,
sweet memories
of her
gentle soul,
then my saddened
heart
flooded, and sadly, unlike
in mum's case,
time,
the luxury of properly
saying
our good-byes
to grant us
chose
not to.
please can u just read my poems and critise i want to improve in writing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautifully penned dear George!