Were my love the sun, I’d burn, turning red
Were love a song, I’d hum and sing all day
Were love a gun, I would surely be dead
Were love a hope, I’d uphold it and pray
But love is a miracle that is real
A coveted gem, so precious to two
Love is something you know, you breathe, and feel
When two share that true gift, God will reveal
When that love is taken away, you cry
You feel true emptiness and such sorrow
No use cursing, pounding, or asking why
As you seek the strength to face tomorrow
Rhonda, love, you left this world much too soon
My hand outstretched, wanting so to touch you
I remember it well, on that afternoon
of January 31st, 2022.
A simple poem for my wife of 31 years, Rhonda, whom sickness and covid claimed far too soon.
Rhonda, I’ll always love you, hon!
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