a poem by ROY Douglas KNEALE, UK

Oh sweetest soul that e'er God took away,
What, in this world, is left for me to care?
But just to sit in quiet solace,
Your ever-present tender face
My only cause to live another day,
And hope that we will meet again somewhere.

Oh dearest heart that e'er I longed to own,
I seem to hear you softly beating still,
As oft I did when you were mine;
Now, kneeling distant at your shrine,
Wherefore do you tread death's dark way alone
When, hand in hand, we planned dreams to fulfil?

Oh sweetest, dearest love there are no tears
Left more to shed, my depth of grief to show,
As proof, that, if my eyes have cried,
Part of my soul, with you, has died;
Tho long and bitter be the coming years,
One day, where you now rest, I'll gladly go.
Cat. No. G138.

[Composed at "The Auburn" Lezayre Road, Ramsey, in the Isle of Man - at the age of 10. Now, aged 85, I cannot recall why I wrote this poem then. RDK.]

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