Back on the 2nd of May 2012, I thought this poem was going to be the last piece I would ever write … finality for my wife was near, and my mind was adrift on the horizon. … little did I know, that in few months time, her spirit and enthusiasm for life, would become the inspirational source for the revival of my poetry writings, and now a decade later “Carole’s” amazing zest for life, still influences my every thought behind the words I write …
‘Til Death Do Us Part
She’s there, in that tall pale building of brick.
Where the Nightingales care and tend to the sick.
She’s there, away from home and her comforting bed.
Where the Doctors try to fix the endless ills from her head.
She’s there, and her absence reminds me of future plights.
Where my anxieties for her her well being endure her fight.
She’s there, and I need to visit her all day, and every night.
Where the distance to reach her soul is out of sight.
She’s there, and I’m wondering about that far away dome.
Where her lost personal affection would leave her all alone.
She’s there, in those misty clouds, with church bells ringing.
Where she’s near to the sombre sounds of angels singing.
She’s there, and her constant pain remains tight in my heart.
Now I’m convinced, just like I said at the very start.
There’s no place like home for her gathering dark.
And I promise to her again, ‘til death do us part.
Ivor Steven (c) May 2nd 2022
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 