Carolyn Ford Witt
The Last Of Sarah's Children - Poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
The last of Sarah's children
Has gathered up his cares
And shed the earthly raiment
Of this World's remaining wares.
He heard the call of Angels
Who beckoned him back home
And decided that the time had come,
Here...to no longer roam.
Now far up in the Heavens
He dances...Oh, so spry,
Laughing very gleefully
Up where the Angels fly.
So change those tears to joyous smiles
For his spirit is not dead,
He's resting in our Father's arms
And in the Angel's bed.
Fear not, for he is waiting,
Each one of us to see,
And we will run into his arms
When again his face we see.
Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
(in honor of Gilbert L Wood 1915-2010)
Comments about The Last Of Sarah's Children by Carolyn Ford Witt
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
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You