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Poetry: Memories of you

Memories of you.

Since you were called home,
By a wise and compassionate God,
I am left here all alone,
To wander this old sod.

My shoulders stoop with age,
As I continue on in life,
Pining for that beautiful day,
When I rejoin my wife.

Sometimes I take no trouble
To shave this craggy face;
For there is no tender cheek,
Will feel its rough embrace.

There'll be no blue eyes sparkling,
No soft red lips a-smiling,
No more pretty auburn tresses,
That always needed styling.

The touch of your hand in mine,
As through the mall we strolled,
Knowing that you were mine alone,
Was my joy, my treasure, my gold.

Your image I cannot forget,
And when my mood turns blue,
I think of just how blessed I am,
To have happy memories of you.

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