Widower Groom Poem by Ima Ryma

Widower Groom



Sarah was the love of my life.
So beautiful, inside and out.
When she agreed to be my wife,
I was the luckiest, no doubt.
She joked that though her heart was weak,
She'd give it to me anyway,
Because of my charmer technique,
She was aflutter in my sway.
We took our vows in wedded bliss,
To live in love forevermore.
I felt her go limp in our kiss.
We gently knelt down to the floor.

In my arms, I held her, my bride.
She whispered her love, then she died.

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