by Bob
She was not old, hair not yet grey, too soon she was gone, on that cold wintry day.
For weeks she had suffered, not wanting to eat, body to frail and looking so weak.
Yet her spirit was high, still wanting to play, but I knew in my heart, she would not last that day.
I held her close whispering words in her ear, our last final moments, trying to vanquish her fear.
Now that its over, and I have said my goodbye's, I know she's at peace, yet still, I ask why?
"The last enemy that shall be destroyed, is death." Jesus
Comments would be appreciated by the author, Bob
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