Cold and still and lifeless ill lying
On the bier. So strange to see the boy
Whose jest and winsome dreams once en-joyed
The heart of an old mother, now ill, crying.
The whole town and bridge club, beauty shop, baking crew and ladies’ guild
Were shocked at this injustice: how could God
Be cruel if He were so mighty: isn’t it odd
That goodness gets harder once youth is stilled.
I cannot help but to post teasers to things at the Second Terrace blog, while you are there I highly recommend looking around at what else is there.