She got it a week before Christmas Like every year before A card written by her husband's hand Who wasn't alive anymore
The card would wish her Christmas cheer And told her of his love He died in a accident on Christmas Eve But it was her he's thinking of
For twenty-six years the cards would come That's how long they were husband and wife She never questioned why the the cards would come They were written by the love of her life
He would write her a card for every year And secretly tuck them aside He gave a card to each of his friends To mail long after he'd died
For twenty-six years the cards would come Until she would pass away They buried her beside her husband With her cards on Christmas day
I enjoyed this as well. Having said that I felt the poem got a little bogged down in the lines that began For twenty six years. I found the rhythm was a little out there. You finished strong. I wish I could advise you a possible fix but I don't have one. I enjoy your work although this piece is a little weak for me. It is good but your work is usually great for me. Thanks for sharing...
Gulp. I onced received a letter from someone after their death, and I know how she must have felt. Yes, I still have that letter, and always will. A beautiful story Whisk, thank you
Blubbering like a baby....such beautiful sentiments in these sad words. This took my breath away, such a wonderful sentiment. Excellent, can't say more...