No longer doth she walk the twilit earth,
Her knock forever absent from our door.
Death's icy grasp banished our childlike mirth
Silencing her sweet voice forevermore.
Laid aside dreams from spirit grown weary;
Perfume of burning candles flood her room.
How dragged those final days on steps dreary
Awaiting with tears the oncoming gloom.
Sweet Joy! I long to see thee once again
Tripping so merrily through woodland green,
Or nymph-like wandering in mist and rain.
Amber hair and faery form no more seen,
Flown as a free bird from imprisoned cage,
Vanished from life, leaving one cherished page.
**~Hilda~
In memory of my dear sister: Joy.
Several years ago she told me,
"You know, this life is just like a page of a book compared to eternity."
Written July 2, 2014
© Hilda July 4, 2014