I choose life…

Poised between the choice to die
The choice to find that one
Who never should have gone.
To care for her in that other life
Supposedly promised to us all
Should we choose to tread a path
Which follows in the wake – of goodness.

And the choice to live
To live among those who are left
Left behind to mourn and weep.
Those whose needs are pressing
Those whose needs are alive.

I hold my memories so very dear
Of missing a one who still seems near
But yet —– I choose life!
For that which will become
If it is so…as we are promised
Will indeed come soon enough
And my time will in due course come.
But not yet…not yet.

And I would not sully – such a beautiful memory.

©Joe Wilson – I choose life…2016

She is everywhere…

She was no myth, though almost a whisper in the wind
But wherever she travelled, enlightenment always followed
Her heart was pure and her thoughts untainted
And in her own anguish, she never wallowed.

She travelled around lightly dispensing good cheer
For that was her way and it gave her such joy
Yet very few noticed her eyes filled with fear
Especially her girl, and especially her boy.

Finally worn down by great pain and foul ill
Her indomitable spirit slowly faltered and she died
And all who have loved her have said their farewells
As we listened to music and saw pictures we cried.

But she rises amongst us, her spirit and love
She’s in every life of those who she knew
And if you feel down and you think of her
Her goodness will help you get through.

Though she never lived for hundreds of years
She managed just two score and two
She surely lit flames for all of her friends
And just as surely she would have lit one for you.

© Joe Wilson – She is everywhere…2016

I’m not really sure that this is appropriate,
but it sure made me feel better.

http://justgiving.com/fundraising/vicky-tarling

Our daughter.

Tears fall like rain…

Where are they now, those childhood days
When we ran and we played like heroes
Untrammelled by worry and other concerns
Often unknowing our parents fears.
But then we grew up and had kids of our own
And we remember the worry we saw
How sad our parents were from time to time
As we go through the same, and we know it hurts more.

The seven year old girl in the playground
Cuts over the schoolyard to dad
It’s only a memory now in my old head
That leaves me so hopelessly sad.

One day you wake and everything’s changed
And it can never be the same again
And your heart feels as if it is drowning
As all of your tears fall like rain.
And the thing is you know it will get much worse
Yet there’s nothing about it you can do
As again, your eyes cloud over with mist
Even on the days when the sky is so blue.

©Joe Wilson – Tears fall like rain…2016

The warmth inside…

There is no beating that central heating
If peripheral warmth is your need
But there is no warmth like love-filled warmth
Where two hearts harmoniously feed.

And when long Summer days in sunshine
In laughter in daft lover’s games
Are snapshots then taken of moments
And placed in keepsake gilt frames.

Frames they now view in their Autumn
Of perhaps the best days they recall
For as time marches forward regardless
They seem in the photos, less small.

Until one day there is then only one
And the central heating is switched on
As the one left behind now tries to keep warm
And the ticking clock of life moves along.

© Joe Wilson – The warmth inside…2016

She will always be with him…

grief

Walk with me will you till moonlight glows
And we will talk of love and life
Walk with me, our hearts entwined
That bond we share as husband and wife.

And such merry times we both recall
Of times we spent in happy repose
The wisest choice this man ever made
Was kneeling before you the day I proposed.

The gaiety and laughter of our children
Made wondrous the path that we chose
For all of these years there has been only you
You were and remain my fine English rose.

And now that I find myself so much older 
In recalling a life never dull
We struck out together as always we did
The excitement of living our lives to the full.

~~~~~~~

As he thinks these lines, he sits in the tiny bedroom they shared and weeps. He has no idea, nor even less does he care, whether they rhyme, they just remind him of her and the heartache is so very deep. He looks at the jewellery and trinkets of what was her life, and he feels an unending pain. Now he only waits for the day he will join her, so that they can be together again.

He thought, we never anticipate this much heartbreak, and he wept some more…

©Joe Wilson – She will always be with him…2016

The Devil’s accomplice…

 

 

raven and scythe 2

I wrote this to accompany a previous piece
‘The raven’s awful call’.

The old bell tolled its mournful chord
A six-foot box slid under ground
And as they shovelled the cold earth back
The tired old bell was the only sound.
And the raven called as the scythe fell
Another would join him soon
When once again the bell would toll
Its sad and terrible tune.

Presently to the graveyard came
A fog so thick of damp grey mist
And one more of the throng fell dead
Another sinner on the Devil’s list.
High above in clouds so dark
The raven flies and flies alone
The Devil’s unwitting accomplice
Whose list is long and carved in stone.

So dark his wings and sure his flight
He joins with others to wait
And gathered in their unkindness
They sense the Devil won’t sate.
Long the years the two were met
The Devil’s disciple is he
He’s used as a terrible tool of death
He knows he too is not free.

For as the scythe cuts through the air
Once more a scream is heard
The raven calls his baleful cry
Another sinner is interred.
Now he sits on the scythe of death
No hint of life ‘cept blinking eyes
Until again the scythe is raised
When once again the raven flies.

©Joe Wilson – The Devil’s accomplice…2016

The raven’s awful call…

wallup.net

Still here I lie in Death’s dark shroud
Just more than dust beneath the ground
And even as they left this place
I heard the raven’s awful sound.
For those above had known me dead
And brought me here in six-foot box
Where even as I could not scream
I felt the dread from Death who mocks.

And as the bugs then through me roamed
As earthly bodies, mine did rot
My soul did not depart this husk
Such was the punishment I got.
And all the pain I still could feel
As rats gnawed at my hands and toes
There’s more to death than we may think
When blood through veins no longer flows.

Way up above the raven calls
The last call they will hear
He makes it as the scythe now falls
For soon they’ll come to join me here.

For if in life they’ve conscience clear
Their soul will soar on Heavenly peal
Though if like me a sinner they be
They’ll die in pain, a living meal.
They severed my head from my body
In years it’s never been found
I could never beg forgiveness
For who would have heard the sound.

Two hundred years in this dark Hell
The bugs and rats long gone
Just dried up skeletal bones remain
And the soul of a less than holy one.
Once, time stood still for just a while
For one short moment I waited
But then I saw the Devil’s smile
For in truth, he is never sated.

And yet once more the raven calls
As someone meets their doom
In six-foot holes beneath the earth
They’ll lie forever in this gloom.

©Joe Wilson – The raven’s awful call…2016