Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Flowers and Thoughts


I know that you must leave me
And I dread that coming day
But I want you to be peaceful
And rest without pain and fear

To lie in that bed for endless hours
And be a prisoner of that dreadful disease
That has crawled up your back
And into the very life giving marrow of your spine
Is a cruelty that is not deserved

I want to scoop you up in my arms
And take you for a ride
To see the waves breaking on the beach
Or the flowers blooming in the park

But it won't happen
You will take your drugs and sleep tonight
I will lie and listen to you breath
And hope that tonight is not the night
When you must leave

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sweet darling girl, such a beautiful poem, so sad, so heartbreaking, and so true.

Hugs love and kisses to you both Banjo xxx

Anonymous said...

You will be strong I just know it.

You will still call his name and he will still answer.

Judy

Mark McClure said...

Indie, That's a beautifully sad poem.

And here's some Stratford dude with thoughts almost as timeless. A friend I've since lost contact with gave them to me on our wedding day:

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

Will Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

Anonymous said...

Oh, dear friend! I love you both.

And Judy is so very right!

xoxoxo sdb

Muderma said...

Elizabeth Barrett Browning also said it ...

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.


I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.


I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death. "


Hang in there, dear friend ... love him, as I know he must love you ...