whose golden light you loved.
I shall sleep alone
and, stirring, touch an empty place.
I shall write uninterrupted.
( Would that your gentle paw could stir my moving
pen just once again.)
I shall see beauty,
but none to match
your living grace.
I shall hear music,
but none so sweet as the
droning song
with which you loved me.
I shall fill my days,
but I shall not, can not, forget.
Sleep soft dear friend,
for while I live you shall not die.
Michael Joseph
