The Grave

And when my darling your grave was made
And you were laid within
I stood upon the new blessed turf
And cried for death so grim.

A little child came and held my hand
And tugged upon my sleeve
Then looking up into my face, said
'Let's go home now Grandpa please.

'For Grandma is no longer here
The Angels came you see,
They took her up to be with God
She knows that you're with me.'

© Helen Catherine Cramer

Home Top Back