It is the first rain of the spring season,
Triggering memories of bygone years,
Of childhood, adoloscence and youth,
Some of laughter, some of tears.
The pelting of rain water against window panes,
Takes the mind back into a special past,
When my true love was mine and so bewitching,
"May it rain more...more...and more..." I exclaim.
The love that was mine was taken away,
And I still can't forget that saddest day,
When my beloved was lowered into a grave,
And I too felt like dying -- to follow her way.
Yet destiny had destined more years for me,
To live and suffer with love's memory,
So, when it rains, like this spring's first rain,
I relive the time when it was just for me.
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Composed on the evening of July memory of unforgettable Daphne.

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allets's picture

A Magnificent Merorial Writing


I lost my only child this year and this poem is for anyone who has lost a beloved. I will look at the rain on the pane now and remember also that once if was just for me. Thanks for this internal wallpaper of loss as emotion. ~Stella~