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by Denny Lancaster 230508
Through frail bodies and veins
flows a spirit shielded from pains;
Who in many years with no distress
bears counsel to our earthly weariness
among us childlike eagerness stirred
liken to a hound hunting a bird.
In the mirror your face moves no more
from the space flows through a door
into our thoughts you lift a smile,
with us you in spirit linger awhile.
And if we prove worth and some good
lighten in cheer, we know you would,
for no more in shame stood in gloom,
for with you living is not a tomb.
We speak of you to others so vain,
to purge away the corrupted strain,
of those days when hearts were cold
and memories of you grew to us old.
Now you warm us with bloodless pains
and the poet's spirit fills our veins.
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