All just a bag of old bone ,
Rattling around in a rickety house.
Listening to the crickets ,cricket,
Bag O' bones .
waiting for the cricket to stop.

She rides with the wind now,
Mounted on Gypsy Dancer
red wisps flying in the breeze
no longer hindered by this firmament
spirit and soul free at last to wander the gardens of heaven.
She rides the wind ,now untethered, no straps to hold her , free of the pains of knowing
She rides the wind now,
Mounted on gypsy dancer,sprigs of rosemary woven in her hair.
She will not forget she will not be forgotten

hate,
loneliness
to much forgotten
sadness
to much
we can't take anymore

We went to the cabin
we built that bench we planned and talked about
A symbol of our life together
it should stand until we end