Poems of Lighthouse Bob

…but Love (Terzanelle) #562



…but Love (Terzanelle)

From hospital, some hands, obscured by gloves,

transferred her weary husband back to home

so no disease should kill… oh, no, but love,

yes, love held tight each greying hair she combed

in memory as moments in her touch

transferred her weary husband back to home

and rehabilitation hurt too much

that over working couldn't near compare

in memory as moments in her touch,

so, here, instead, he felt her comb his hair

while resting in his bed with happy thoughts

that over working couldn't near compare,

but time went on… and, even though he fought,

the magnitude of pain did not subside

while resting in his bed with happy thoughts

and, then, she cried, albeit help supplied

from hospital, some hands obscured by gloves,

the magnitude of pain did not subside,

so, no, disease should kill… oh, no, but love.






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…but Love (Terzanelle) #562

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