I have read a sonnet of tragedy
I have read about melancholy too
I know what that means if you have that love
Appreciate if he be God above
tragedy-melancholy be the same
a sonnet of drama disappointment
full of autumnal rustling leaves actions
the finest tinges down in the abyss
the sonnet of my tender love my bliss
I address this only to my darling
sweetheart, honey, how can I call you now?
regard this sonnet as my purest vow

you know that this sonnet is meant for you
my precious truest vow for you, darling



© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Friday, 5th December 2014

Tucked away in the edge of the trees
Roses round the door
The old greyish thatched roof
A haven for small birds and little things
The old couple who lived there always had a smile and a kind word
They didn't have much else living on just their pensions
I used to walk past there and always there would be the aroma of fresh baked bread
A home made pork pie cooling on the window ledge
Occasionally as a kid I would go round and feed their chickens
Collect the eggs
My reward a home made cake and a mug of sweet milky tea
As they grew older and more frail
I would dig over their vegetable garden
And saw a few logs
But that old man was fiercely independent and still insisted
On doing much of the work himself
Then one wet foggy day I saw the ambulance heading to the cottage
He had collapsed and died near the front door
Natural causes they said
The old lady died just two days later
That old couple had been together for more than seventy years
Together in life and wouldn't be separated by death

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
Call this assurance if you must;
But when it's time to say Farewell
To one you love, it's just plain hell.

There are no words, no healing balm,
To fill the void, to ease the calm;
And not a thing that one can say
Will drive the quick hot tears away.

We look upon the empty chair
And seek the one no longer there;
And so heartbreaking is the pain
We question if we'll meet again.

How grim indeed, if death should be
The Bitter End--- Eternity;
Just some vague dream conceived by Man
And not a part of any plan.

But God has taken such great care
To note the sparrow in the air;
His Love alone can cover all
And Mark a simple Sparrows' fall.

And if he cares for the birds that fly,
then he must hear My Anguished cry;
"Dear God, I yield my grief to Thee
For Thou alone can comfort me."