He wishes me to join him in his sleep.

I feel soft ghostly hands around my throat

That want to pull me to the darkest deep

My husband cannot leave or be remote

He wishes me to join him in his sleep.

I shall resist for I desire to live

Though blind now are my hours without his face.

I have no more I hope to give

Since he withdrew from me his kind embrace.

As lonely as a swan without its mate.

As tired as swallows after they migrate

I must accept my unconsoled fate

I’ll not accept this be a constant state.

From my loss, I shall recover when

The birds return and summer comes again

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About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
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