David T. Kerry Posted February 8, 2007 Report Share Posted February 8, 2007 Having returned from the mortuary to identify the body of my daughter, I sat in her room and wrote the following poem. I hope you like it.Her room is still, the pillow bareWhere hopes and dreams were born,No sun kissed cheeks, no golden hairTo lay upon ‘til dawn.The mirror mourns with tarnished bloomNo beauty to reflect,A smile so warm and radiantNo one could reject.Her desk a tribute to hours of toilHer lamp no shadows cast,Ambitions set and almost metNow vanished with the past.Her fragrance drifts with weakened pulseBringing comfort to those who seek,Clothes held tight and cradled closeAgainst her mother’s cheek.Silent tapes no longer breatheThe rhythm of life and dance,If only God would free herAnd give her that second chance.David T.Kerry www.windowpains.org Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Janine Posted February 9, 2007 Report Share Posted February 9, 2007 Beautiful sorrow. My English teacher used to use that phrase when discussing her favorite poetry. I didn't really get it at sixteen. I understand it now. Thank you for sharing it with us.Janine Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
David T. Kerry Posted February 11, 2007 Author Report Share Posted February 11, 2007 Hi Janine,Sorry about delay in replying, I now realise that somehow the e-mail notification box had become unticked? Anyway, many thanks for taking the time and trouble to respond to my submission, and for your kind comments. I'd never heard that expression 'Beautiful sorrow' before, but I too find it quite a poignant phrase.Thank you once again. Best wishes - David www.windowpains.org Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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