That Day Poem by Hermione Femalton

That Day

Rating: 5.0


The sun is bright
in the decieving sky,
And the birds are singing
As the flowers cry.

Within the wood,
Made by hand.
You are lying
While I still stand.

My dress is heavy,
And thick with lace,
my veil is brushing
Against my face.

The breeze is soft;
A butterfly's wing,
But god only knows
What the furure'll bring.

They carried him gently,
out of the door;
Their faces are solemn,
Though they've done it before.

Walk slow, walk slow,
'Cause it won't be true,
'Till the words are uttered
And I've lost you.


March 2009

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