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A ring of roses


Wind whistles down the chimney,

There's snow upon the fen,

Santa's zooming skywards,

It's Christmastime again.


But in the village far below,

A teardrop will not mend,

A love that lasted 40 years,

Is coming to an end.


A roundabout of laughter,

Of sons and daughters fair,

Now standing in the graveyard,

To say a final prayer.


She brought them into being,

She taught them best she could,

Her husband lifts the coffin,

His eyes filled up with love.


A ring of roses round the grave,

The lord's prayer on their lips,

A petal hardly makes a sound,

When it strikes a coffin lid.


We'll never know the reason,

Why life should be so short,

But in the next world pray we meet,

The loved ones we have lost.


© Joseph G Dawson