Turning Over
Clock strikes,
every second my heart stabs
another injection of grief,
as streams wash the contours
rushing the valleys of guise.
Memories.
All I behold now you have gone,
besides photographs and diaries.
I stare at you and you are there,
besides me once more.
Turning over,
another page lets me slowly learn
to accept this new place in time
where I find myself surrounded
by loneliness and sorrow.
This is not,
of course how you would want me to be.
Were you with me now you would hold me,
stroke my face and comfort me.
Loving me, happily.
Together,
we have shared these memories,
so many times, turning over,
those beautiful pages of times
roaming through contours of life.
I recollect,
how we walked valleys and streams,
where we played, picniced and slept.
Turning over the page you stay with me,
through the treasures we have shared.
Now at night
when I'm lonely, in those early cold hours,
turning over I'll remember and cherish
those beautiful gifts given so freely;
and thank God for the time that you lived.
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