In Memory Of Clara
D
David Wood
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My yellow daffodil opened,
Blossomed in the sun,
Shone brightly in the light
Of many a long sweet day.
She was the soft cool breeze,
The warm summer sun
That brought such pleasure
With each passing day.
But time moves in one direction,
And age doesn't come alone,
It brings decay, weakness
And many heart aches.
My daffodil came in the month
Of May and blossomed for many
Seasons but winter came after
Nearly fifteen and claimed her.
And the sadness cuts like a knife.
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