(04 October 1943 / Germany)

A Burial

Today I had a burial of my dead.
There was no shroud, no coffin, and no pall,
No prayers were uttered and no tears were shed
I only turned a picture to the wall.

A picture that had hung within my room
For years and years; a relic of my youth.
It kept the rose of love in constant bloom
To see those eyes of earnestness and truth.

At hours wherein no other dared intrude,
I had drawn comfort from its smiling grace.
Silent companion of my solitude,
My soul held sweet communion with that face.

I lived again the dream so bright, so brief,
Though wakened as we all are by some Fate;
This picture gave me infinite relief,
And did not leave me wholly desolate.

To-day I saw an item, quite by chance,
That robbed me of my pitiful poor dole:
A marriage notice fell beneath my glance,
And I became a lonely widowed soul.

With drooping eyes, and cheeks a burning flame,
I turned the picture to the blank wall's gloom.
My very heart had died in me of shame,
If I had left it smiling in my room.

Another woman's husband. So, my friend,
My comfort, my sole relic of the past,
I bury thee, and, lonely, seek the end.
Swift age has swept my youth from me at last.

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Comments (5)

Thanks all. Max, the germinal seed ripened in the stratum germinativum (as it should) , it came from a casual (?) comment by Mahnaz in the forum. Best H
Another great Nehrlichian contribution! Very nice, Herbert. L
Herbert, once I fell 'hook line and sinker' but I wasn't fishing. :) Cute poem. Raynette
Now what was the germinal seed of this one? Don't tell me-it's autobiographical! : -) Wait a minute...the poem BEFORE it was a fishing poem. Two fishing poems in a row! Now what are the odds of that? Herbert, do you just take the subject of the previous poem, and write another one? (probably not, I reason, because by the time you'd finished, it would no longer BE the just-previous poem. But it was a thought.)
Hilarious....I had a good laugh!