sixteen or seventeen years young
in fresh lush bloom of beauty
fading in recent widow grief
within one month of marriage
her beloved husband dead lost
has fallen killed in some far place
despicable futile deadly foreign war
leaving a young widow alone in daily
anguish grief distress
as time endless flows past
in liquid seconds
minutes hours
turning into days weeks
months eternal emptiness flowing...
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem