Woman With Spirit Poem by Patricia Kelley

I still remember her voice; each time I would visit.
She would be sitting in her recliner.
It was always right before dinner.
She had (C.O.P.D.) chronic obstruction pulmonary disease.
Her spirit was always at ease.
She would always call me honey.
She always seemed so sunny.
She always had to be near, her oxygen.
She loved for me to read Songs of Solomon.
She had no fears of dying.
She had more fear about living.
She always loved to talk.
She would tell me about taking a long walk.
On her hundreds of acres,
I would set there carefully watching the clock, because I could get lost in our long talks.
She talked about her life, when she was young, and all of her stocks.
She was once a very wealthy lady, she smiled, and said.
Her hired hands' were well paid.
She talked about riding and breaking wild horses.
She fought against all of the forces.
No one thought she could do it, because she was a woman.
She said, proudly. Her husband was a real man.
He taught her everything, and how to be a real businesswoman.
He had died several years before her, leaving her a huge estate.
She had lived great!
He left her with everything, including a ranch.
She had so much wisdom for a solid oak branch.
She set there in her recliner, neatly tucked, snuggled in her heavy woven socks.
I was called in the day, she was dying.
She had been in a coma unresponsive now for several days.
I started crying.
I gently whispered in her ear everything was going to be okay, she opened her eyes, and looked at me.
She quietly squeaked. Honey, get me a drink. She took a sip, and turned her head. With her last words, and all eyes on her son, she said. I'll always love you!
Then suddenly, she was gone, like the end to a beautiful song.
She was able to say good bye to her son. She showed me even though she was in a coma. She knew, what was going on in her room.




She slowly started fading away, as a flower that closes its petals. Then with one last breath, one last rise, she was gone.