Poems, Prayers, and Promises from a Country Parson

Departed

To say good bye can bring much sorrow.
For we often hate to think about tomorrow.
When a friend must bid farewell.
To only find our self alone.

Now I feel like an old man.
Reaching out for the hand.
That is no longer there.
Only to find himself alone.

Now I feel like an old lady.
Whose breast long for a baby.
That is now grown.
Only to find herself alone.

Yet there will soon be a place.
Where we will see the face
Of those that have departed.
And we will no longer be alone.

posted by Hugh @ 9:10 PM