44 - Widow Weeds Poem by nicola burkett

Bessie steps from the grave
Gently caressing the headstone
A single white rose placed on top
As she weeps under a willow all alone

Wearing a thick black dress
And a heavy crepe veil
Her eyes red from crying
And a face plain and pale

The black ribbons from her bonnet
Ruffle in the gentle breeze
Her eyes gazed upon a page in a book
As she sits beneath two entwined willow trees

Wrapped in a shawl she hugs it tightly
As she sits still in grief and despair
Her heart shattered into a million pieces
As the pain becomes too much to bear