Poem by Terry Donovan
There she goes, our dearest friend.
As all good things come to an end,
Her life on earth is over now
And we must carry on somehow,
Her memory we must carry on.
With that she never will be gone.
We'll weep a while but still be glad
To think of those good times we had,
Glad we had her love to share
Glad she knew that we did care,
Glad that when she came to part,
She did so with a happy heart.
We'll miss those dinners that she cooked
That tasted scrumptious as they looked.
The plants around the garden may
Keep wond'ring why she went away;
She tended them with love and care,
They grew for her when she was there.
But they'll remember her green fingers
And they will show a love that lingers,
They'll open up again and bloom,
Perhaps to lift us from our gloom;
For what she loved her soul attends,
What she started never ends.
We have to cry, we have to mourn,
With death an emptiness is born,
But she's now in a better place
And where we feel an empty space,
It won't be empty long, we'll find.
It's filled with the love she left behind.
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