Charles L. East
Unto my keeping
wert thou given me,
that I might love thee
with all my soul
to the end of my days…
and adore thee in the autumn of my years.
I have loved thee beyond life's measure,
beyond the treasures of the earth or sea
or the boundless reaches of the deepening sky.
If the sun should quietly rise
upon a dreaded day…
and thy final sleeping mercifully unburden
the hours from me,
my futile weeping shall only cease
with a last and desperate breath…
and with all my failing strength,
I shall once more
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Comments about this poem ('The Keeping' by Zorika Petic )
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- falling down a well, well, you pushed me, Mandolyn ...
- Indeed, george albot
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