Each moment of disagreement magnified;
bewildered thoughts, memory retired;
brief times of happiness petrified
by feelings that there is no charity,
denied the sense of lasting parity,
on the day that life’s long lease expired.
No longer can you join your hands,
feel the warmth, see smile or chiding look
until, some silent night, you’ll find you can,
with unprecedented clarity,
with life’s lease, in perpetuity,
read their soul and spirit like a book.
© 2011 John Anstie
(View the author’s commentary on this poem)