So could these words survive all mortal time
And final eyes upon this memory gaze.
The last, of course, would have no need for rhyme-
Nor need to hear an ancient poet rave.
It is my hope that this brief lonely verse
Would bring sweet memory of his dearest past,
And mute his dwelling on that evil curse
That brought him here to be the very last.
To call upon the warmth of lovers eyes;
The gentleness of his sweet mother’s touch;
A child’s truth whose journey he did guide;
Dear hearts exalted that did give so much.
For love remembered can all grief abate,
And smiles not tears should welcome heaven’s gate.
©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.