To feel despondent in a chasm of obedience,
One’s thoughts to focus and pain to own,
Escaping tears of a child’s compliance,
Becalmed in deep waters of a place unknown.

Rain soaked trees line cobblestone streets,
As hibernating birds abandon their nests,
With golden bronzed leaves to carpet my feet,
Tired closed eyes dream of an Autumn Rest.

With old scribbled words on a gate-leg table,
As memories remain in a frozen state,
The tapping sound of a death-watch beetle,
In tear-filled voices, a young girls fate.

Where have all the colours gone,
And the flowers of meadow-sweet,
This cold it counts my every bone,
While ageing dreams have gone to sleep.

With cold winds blowing through open doors,
And thumbs count beads of a rosary in prayer,
Casting dark shadows on parquetry floors,
As buttercup daisies line her casket of care.

Grieving tears that never dry,
Enquiring minds question why?,
Evidence of pain etched upon her face,
Seeks the need of her child’s embrace.
So,
Gather up her memories, and gifts she’s left behind,
Fold away her daisy chains, pearl beads and all you find,
For broken hearts that never mend,
Her final blessing has come to end.