Dianne
Dianne, the word
forms softly on the tongue
and having kissed
the parted lips,
Like iridescent
light, it halos round the sleeping child
and scents the
flowers she rests among.
It frames the mind
with memories
recalling through
the years,
the quiet talks and
hearts that shared
the laughter and the
tears.
Images of chestnut
curls and freckles on her nose,
of fantasies and
grown up games
high heels and
mother’s hose.
At night, the little
girl again
with toys all tucked
away,
while innocence and
purity
knelt down at bed to
pray.
Gentle times and
sunny days
unfurled as leaves
of gold,
and laid before the
eye to show
God’s mystery of
love untold.
O’Father, master of
my will
who gives my heart,
within to know
The beauty of my
love for her
unchanged, unfolding
still.
Grant me O’ Lord,
thy recompense
Christ’s reconciling
grace,
That I might see her
once again,
and feel the warmth
of sweet embrace.
No sweeter, dearer,
precious name
this earth has ever
known,
than that which God,
with His own hand
has etched in
granite stone.
Placed here, a sign
to point the way
to where the angels
sing,
around Dianne and
Mary Beth
who wait before the
King.
And as they wait,
are lifting up
Their voice to God
in prayer,
That we who love
them, might one day
Be gathered with
them there.
Donald
Wayne Kilcrease
November
5, 1985
This lovely poem was written by my uncle, Don Kilcrease, remembering my sister who died in May 1968. Among many things, Uncle Don was a poet of considerable talent. He has since passed on to meet his beloved niece and infant daughter, Mary Beth, also mentioned here.
2 comments:
This poem is beautiful! Thank you for sharing it!
Thanks Vicky...she was a bright light in our family, for sure. We all missed her more than words can express. Mary Beth, was a victim of crib death...not sure what the actual cause was...again, very sad.
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