Sunset - Poem by Sydney
Little old lady, frail and grey,
Waiting for the heavenly call,
Suffering now without complaint,
Always loved, admired by all. Remembering the cotton loom,
Two World Wars, winters chill,
Dear husband passed these many years.
Momentoes on the window sill. Grandchildren read Royal telegram.
To earthly cares no longer tied
With enigmatic smile and calm
Last night she died.
Comments about Sunset by Sydney
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You