Thursday, March 14, 2013

Of dusk and of grief

The setting sun, like a ball of fire,
 on my mother's final day.

Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.

Fading light, dims the sight,
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.
From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.

Thanks and praise, for our days,
'Neath the sun, 'neath the stars, neath the sky;
As we go, this we know, God is nigh.

Fare thee well, precious mother.  Go in peace.


  1. Oh you make me cry. Good work Jenny. She is here with me and she is oh so peaceful...watching over her peeps and smiling.

  2. Indeed she is, Geo; indeed she is.