Tuesday, November 17, 2009


She laid, void of her usual self
Instead, Indulgent in true sleep

Her Kursk like existence
daunting as the territory it explores

Her menacing park life dictatorship ended
On reflection, a beautiful adventure
No menace
No harm

But a pulse
For a dual heart
That has succumb to tortures inconceivable by even god
She, a pacemaker inconceivable by man

'Wake up, wake up'.
For a momentary illusion of life begun
Shortened however, with an abrupt blow of realisation
My words of elixir memories temporarily subdue her cries

Consult us before death
Or go with haste
For neither shall bring satisfaction
But one will ease

If the pace of your once beating heart
Could equate to your years of life

The future would be yours

Lay no longer in slumber

But in peace

My love

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

My darling Hugh...This poem is the most beautiful I have ever read.
She would have loved it!!Our poor little Tilley.Gone but NEVER forgotten.xxxx