The Mistress of Word Play

The cold, insensitive September rain
runs in trails down my window's pane
and I can see your face again.
There is a fleeting glimpse of an angel's face.
You were the youngest of us all
tears still come as I once more recall
an untimely death, the bitter pall
you leaving your family without a trace.

Though the years might come and go
I will forever, still love you so
these are things you need to know.
At times like these my soul does cry.
This sister's love will always remain
even though it ignites the pain
we will one day meet again
and then we never need say good-bye.

SultryRose's Signatures