CREMATION

By Grace Bizzarro

 

I couldn’t bear to place you in the cold ground.

To leave you in that silent lonely park.

I wanted you to be here close beside me.

For a while, till spring brought the lark.

 

I’ll scatter your ashes at the ocean.

In the sea where you wanted to be.

The breeze traveling east from the shore-line

leaves a kiss on my cheek from thee.

 

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EMOTIONS

By Grace Bizzarro

 

Before the sorrow comes the anger.

The raw red nerves, the urge to fight.

You rail against your God and wonder if heaven exists.  

You curse your plight.

 

You blame him for leaving.

For all the confusion.

You’re out of control now.

A bird lost in flight.

 

In time the compassion of

mourners will comfort you

You pray in contrition.

and cry through the night.

 

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FIRST DATE

By Grace Bizzarro

 

“Come meet Jerry,” they say

or Arnold or Sam.

I’m alone and not lonely I answer.

I’d rather stay here, where I am.

don’t need someone to hold my hand.

I know they mean well

still they don’t understand.

Though I know in my heart

what they say is all true.

They’re wasting their time.

There’s no replacement for you.

 

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GOLDEN BOY

By Grace Bizzarro

Johnny is gone.  I miss him so.

His shy sweet smile and warm hello.

“Good night Mom.” as he went upstairs.

I always answered, “John, say your prayers.”

Pictures and cards bring a memory

Of the Golden boy who is lost to me.

Did we say enough, or try too hard?

Were there hidden sighs we couldn’t see?

When he did reach out was it just too late

for the Golden boy who is lost to me.

 

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GRIEF

By Grace Bizzarro

Grief comes with a casket and baskets of flowers laying on the ground

in a cemetery weary of winter and shed tears.

It comes when laughter ceases and hands that once held yours grow cold.

It comes on gray days when the pungent smells of stew for two

no longer waft on air to stir your senses.

It comes between linen sheets in a cold bed where the warmth

of an embrace and a kiss used to bid you good night.

It comes on Sunday mornings with the Times.

Shared breakfast, the interchange of ideas and gentle disagreements

are no longer possible.

Grief comes to you with all these memories and stays and stays.

 

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SO QUICKLY

By Grace Bizzarro

 

So quickly you left me.

We didn’t say farewell.

No tender last kiss.

No warning death knell.

 

Better than suffering,

laying and waiting

for Angels to take you

away from my arms.

 

I’ll do all my crying,

till time heals my sorrow.

The wishing and longing

to hold you once more.

 

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SUNDAY

By Grace Bizzarro

 

I manage through each lonely day

that passes since you went away.

Except Sunday.

Weekends were our time of rest.

The one sweet day I loved the best

Was Sunday.

The rendezvous beneath the quilt.

you wore nothing.  I wore silk.

Breakfast in our marriage bed.

Steaming coffee, Vienna bread.

Worship, we were there at ten.

Picked up the papers and home again.

Dinner, candlelight, and wine.

Sparkling crystal, china fine.

Evening walk in Woodland Park.

Rush to get home just at dark.

Light the fire, it’s almost seven.

An evening spent in leisure heaven.

Then to sleep within your arms.

Free from worry, safe from harm.

From Monday to Saturday weeks drag by.

My tears well up. 

I only cry on Sunday.

 

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UNDERSTANDING

By Grace Bizzarro

 

Traveling through this vale of tears

I meet my mother and friends I knew.

I didn’t always understand.

I saw death from another view.

 

Only as a soul departed.

One who would never return.

Now I’m the one left broken hearted.

To mourn alone and yearn.

 

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VISION

By Grace Bizzarro

 

I see you most of my waking hours.

In each room your picture

by a bouquet of flowers.

In the garden in summer

where we passed our days.

By the hearth in the winter.

Through the Autumn haze.

When I leave this earth,

and my days are few.

If I reach Heaven

will I still find you?

 

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WIDOWS WALK

By Grace Bizzarro

 

Show me the way to the widows walk

Where I’ll travel alone

For a time, unknown.

I’ll drag my grief, lost hope and fears

Along that path of sorrow and tears.

 

Show me the way to the widows walk

Where I’ll spend each lonely day

Show me the way to the widow’s walk

For my sweet heart has passed away.

 

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