By George Francis george_f@hotmail.com
Date: 29 October 1999

Untitled (pls suggest?)

He lies lone at her darkened side
Most flus he'd had did more abide
But even that, with living breath,
That makes it's home within your breast,
Knew you less, and ailed you less.

Caressed a cheek, with fingers light,
"I understand" she offered tight,
"I've waited long" replied his eyes,
And mercies known, and comforts lies,
Did vanish then, and vanquished then.

From that day, neither one said naught,
For Narcisuss might have been taught,
And learned more from their selfless pause,
Than in his life, or you in yours,
That mattered more, or meant at all.