Its holiest wife

How like a prison is a once loved home.

The little trinkets brought back with sea shells,

Which used to feel the rushing of the foam,

Remind me of the  absence  of him felled.


The strength of features,sharpness of the eye

The sense of others feelings  from their face

These qualities, when listed, make me sigh

i long immediately to feel his dear embrace.


I’m caught uncertain after a phone call

I look around to tell him  all  the news.

Then sadness comes, with emptiness enthralled,

My eye can’t find him  in my  wider view.


Then alone,imprisoned, I feel in deep grief

And sorrow takes me for its holiest wife


I welcome comments and criticism

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