No more violant skakes or pangs of worry.
No such thing as pain.
Thine rest hath been earned.
And even though I'm happy to see,
emerald waves lap the boat that bares thee down,
I must still turn my back and fight the anger.
The larks and kestrals sing in key,
about thee and thy kin.
Comming to the high conclusion that ye hath done well.
And with Thy children, in long repose,
thy spirit will sway in a wooden chair,
just off the side of the fire, looking forever at embers.
Through gritted teeth, we bode thee "Fairwell! Fairwell"
And silently, the sea combs you from sight.
Author notes
I'm sorry to have heard about you're Auntie. I hope htis poem will make you feel a little more comfertable.
A contest entry
- A Prayer For The Dying by CatherineL.
1600 points, ended June 9, 2008, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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What beautiful words. I have tried to use older english words before, and often get frustrated with them. Well written.
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Beautiful
I love the use of the old english, eg; 'about thee and thy kin'. It really is beautiful. I especially love the first stanza, it captures our feelings so well. She deserves to rest after all her pain and worry. Thanks and good luck.
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