LOST FRIEND
The rain came down in cold wet sheets,
Soaking those gathered at the grave,
Even the heavens seemed to be mourning
At the death of this love one brave.

The church had been full, the words sweet
At the parting of this dear friend.
Many cars followed slow and sure
To the grave, all seeing it through to the end.

It was not sorrow they felt for the friend was good,
But a void that was felt, it filled each heart.
Each one remembering happy times they’d known,
Not wanting to leave, not wanting to part.

Slowly, one by one, all had gone away to think,
Except for some children standing quietly,
“Tell us one more story, granny dear,
Everyone has gone away, only we will hear.”

All seemed quiet, then the sun peeped through
the clouds, and the wind was whispering,
The children’s faces lit up with joy
For it surely sounded like someone singing.

Singing in a far off voice, sweetly telling tales,
Taking away heart ache, taking away pain.
It was as though the children all understood
They would be with their friend again.


M Ann Margetson © 1998
poems/98/Lostfriend