My father's children's children

Will never know

He I loved

And cherished so

They'll not know

His sweet embrace

Or the kindness in His face

Or His guiding hand

To lead them through

This mortal land

His tender voice

They'll now miss

In His eyes they'd not witness

Man's harsh bitterness

Death browsed the night

And with a chilly glance

Did pierce my soul

Like an ice-cold lance

'No, no,' I cried, 'not this man.

Let Him have another chance.'

Death played its unearthly game

And with a pallid hand

Lazily turned the page

And in my heart

Welled the rage

I begged with all my might

Death merely turned its head

And faded into night

All pain unnoticed or unread

With tears of anguish my heart bled

In night's lonely darkness

An uneasy sleep

In my chest a merciless

Ache that cut so deep

My very soul did weep

From within came a stirring

Then these tender murmurings

'I come to bring relief

To aid you in your aching grief.'

'Within you sleeps my immortal seed

Now is the time for you to lead

Now is the time for your guiding hand

To lead them through this mortal land

In this way your Father's children's children

Will surely know

He you loved and cherished so.'

Poetry by Various Contributors

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22.02.07 Front Page

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