When pain burns deep to

wound the heart

and shadows hold a demon's curse,

you call Oh Lord, what have I done

that I am torn apart?

Softly comes the comfort close

the tortured soul to nurse,

a gentle hand upon the brow

the kiss of solace sung

an angel sent to quench your hell,

the pain robed demon disavow.

Bequeathed to you the love you won,

His greatest gift: Annabel.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this for an online poet friend who suffers from a huge range of extreemly debillating and painful ailments, his main and most important  source of comfort and support is the deep love he and his wife have for each other. I was so touched when he told me his story I felt I wanted to write something in tribute to that love.

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allets's picture

Wondrous Tribute

To a loving couple. Liked so much your vocabulary choices. ~Stella~




sweetwater's picture

Thank you very much, I

Thank you very much, I appreciate your comment :-) Sue.