Ode To A Widower Poem by George Bernard Hough

He sits in the evening, worst part of the day!
They sat there together and each had their say.
In happier times when moments were shared
they each told the other just how much they cared.
But now that she`s gone and left him alone
his chair is a chair and no longer his throne.
He sits there forlorn and pictures the scene
when he was a king and she was his queen.

The hand he`s been dealt may bring forth a curse,
but life must go on for better or worse.
She still is there with him in memories fleeting
the way that she looked at that nervous first meeting.
When he walked up the aisle with her proud on his arm
the whole congregation were wrapt with her charm.
A lifetime together was promised that day
No thought of a time she`d be taken away.

As we pass through this life we all stand in a queue,
With no indication of when, where, or who
will reach the end first, but the one thing that`s sure
as the rigours of life we all live and endure.
That his turn will come to leave memories behind,
and go on the journey where he hopes to find
that his love will be waiting with wide open arms,
once more to allure him with all of her charms.

Copyright B Hough 2010